56. Shree Krishna describes sages of steady wisdom as: 1) Vīta rāga—they give up craving for pleasure, 2) Vīta bhaya—they remain free from fear, 3) Vīta krodha—they are devoid of anger.
An enlightened person does not allow the mind to harbor the material frailties of lust, anger, greed, envy, etc. Only then can the mind steadily contemplate on transcendence and be fixed in the divine. If one permits the mind to brood over miseries, then the contemplation on the divine ceases and the mind is dragged down from the transcendental level. The process of torture works in the same manner. More than the present pain itself, it is the memories of past pain and apprehensions of future pain that torment the mind. But when the mind drops these two and has to simply grope with the present sensation, the pain surprisingly shrinks to a manageable (within the limits of tolerance) size. It is well known that historically Buddhist monks adopted a similar technique for tolerating torture from invading conquerors.
Similarly, if the mind craves external pleasures, it runs to the objects of enjoyment, and is again diverted from divine contemplation. So a sage of steady wisdom is one who does not allow the mind to hanker for pleasure or lament for miseries. Further, such a sage does not permit the mind to succumb to the urges of fear and anger. In this way, the mind becomes situated on the transcendental level.
57. Rudyard Kipling, a famous British poet, has encapsulated the essence of this verse on Sthita prajña (Sage of steady intelligence) in his famous poem "If." Here are a few lines from the poem:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same…
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And—which is more—you'll be a Man, my son!
The popularity of this poem shows the natural urge in people to reach the state of enlightenment, which Shree Krishna describes to Arjun. One may wonder how an English poet expressed the same state of enlightenment that is described by the Supreme Lord. The fact is that the urge for enlightenment is the intrinsic nature of the soul. Hence, knowingly or unknowingly, everyone craves for it, in all cultures around the world. Shree Krishna is describing it here, in response to Arjun's question.
58. Attempting to quench the cravings of the senses by supplying them with their desired objects is like trying to dowse a fire by pouring clarified butter on it. The fire may be smothered for a moment, but then it flares up with redoubled intensity. Hence, the Śhrīmad Bhāgavatam states that desires never go away when they are fulfilled; they only come back more strongly:
"Fulfilling the desires of the senses does not extinguish them, just as offering oblations of butter in the fire does not extinguish it; instead, it makes the fire blaze even stronger."
These desires can be compared to an itch in the body. The itch is troublesome and creates an irresistible urge to scratch. But scratching does not solve the problem. For a few moments, there is relief, and then the itch returns with greater force. Instead, if someone can tolerate the itch for some time, it begins losing its sting, and dies down slowly. That is the secret for getting peace from the itch. The same logic applies to desires as well. The mind and senses throw up myriad desires for happiness, but as long as we are in the game of fulfilling them, happiness remains illusory, like the mirage. But when we learn to discard all these desires, to find happiness in God, the mind and senses make peace with us.
So an enlightened sage intelligently masters the senses and the mind. The illustration used in this verse is that of the turtle. Whenever it encounters danger, the turtle protects itself by drawing its limbs and head inside its shell. After the danger passes, the turtle again extracts its limbs and head and continues on its way. The enlightened soul possesses similar control over the mind and senses and can retract and extract them according to the needs of the situation.
59. When one gives up eating, as in a fast, the desires of the senses become feeble. Similarly, in sickness one loses interest toward the objects of enjoyment. These states of dispassion are temporary, for the seed of desire remains within the mind. Again when the fast is terminated or the sickness goes away, the desires return.
What is this seed of desire? It is the intrinsic nature of the soul for the divine bliss of God, of whom it is a tiny fragment. Until it gets that divine bliss, the soul can never be contented, and the search for happiness will continue. Sādhaks (spiritual aspirants) may forcibly restrain their senses with their will power, but such restrain is temporary because it does not extinguish the internal flame of desire. However, when the soul engages in devotion toward God, and gets divine bliss, it experiences the higher taste for which it had been craving since infinite lifetimes. The Taittirīya Upaniṣhad states:
"God is all-bliss. When the soul attains God, it becomes satiated in bliss." Then, one naturally develops dispassion toward the lower sensual pleasures. This detachment that comes through devotion is firm and unshakeable.
Thus, the Bhagavad Gita does not teach a dry suppression of desires, instead it teaches the beautiful path of sublimation of desires by directing them toward God. The Saint Ramakrishna Paramahamsa expressed this principle very eloquently, when he said: "Devotion is love for the highest; and the lowest shall fall away by itself."
60. The senses are like wild horses that have been newly harnessed. They are impetuous and reckless, and hence, disciplining them is an important battle that sādhaks have to fight within themselves. Therefore, those desirous of spiritual growth should carefully strive to tame the indulgent senses, which are colored with lust and greed, or else they have the power to sabotage and derail the spiritual process of even the most well-intentioned yogis.
The Śhrīmad Bhāgavatam relates a story that perfectly illustrates this statement. There was a great sage in ancient times, known as Saubhari. He is mentioned in the Rig Veda, where there is a mantra called Saubhari Sutra. There is also a scripture called the Saubhari Samhita. So he was not just an ordinary sage. Saubhari had attained such control over his body that he used to submerge himself in the river Yamuna and meditate under water. One day, he saw two fish mating. This sight carried away his mind and senses, and the desire for sexual association arose in him. He abandoned his spiritual practice and came out of the water, wondering how to fulfill his desire.
At that time, the king of Ayodhya was Mandhata, who was a very illustrious and noble ruler. He had fifty daughters, each more beautiful than the other. Saubhari approached the king and asked for the hand of one of the fifty princesses.
King Mandhata wondered about the sanity of the sage and thought to himself, "An old man wanting to get married!" The king knew Saubhari to be a powerful sage, and feared that if he refused, the sage might curse him. But if he consented, the life of one of his daughters would be ruined. He was in a dilemma. So he said, "O holy one! I have no objection to your request. Please take a seat. I shall bring my fifty daughters before you, and whosoever chooses you will become yours in marriage." The king was confident that none of his daughters would choose the old ascetic, and in this way, he would be saved from the sage's curse.
Saubhari was all too aware of the king's intention. He told the king that he would return the following day. That evening, he used his yogic powers to turn himself into a handsome young man. Consequently, when he presented himself at the palace the next day, all the fifty princesses chose him as their husband. The king was bound by the word he had given and was compelled to marry all his daughters to the sage.
Now the king was concerned about the fights that would take place amongst the fifty sisters, since they would have to share a husband. However, Saubhari again used his yogic powers. Putting the king's apprehension to rest, he assumed fifty forms and created fifty palaces for his wives, and lived separately with each one of them. In this manner, thousands of years passed by. The Puranas state that Saubhari had many children from each of them, and those children had further children, until a tiny city had been created. One day, Saubhari came to his senses, and exclaimed, aho imaṁ paśhyata me vināśhaṁ "O humans! Those of you, who make plans to attain happiness through material acquisitions, be careful. Look at my degradation—where I was and where am I now. I created fifty bodies by my yogic powers, and lived with fifty women for thousands of years. And yet, the senses did not experience fulfillment; they only kept hankering for more. Learn from my downfall and be warned not to venture in this direction."