Gita 1.27
Arjuna Vishada Yoga
श्वशुरान्सुहृदश्चैव सेनयोरुभयोरपि । तान्समीक्ष्य स कौन्तेयः सर्वान्बन्धूनवस्थितान् ॥२७॥
śvaśurān suhṛdaś caiva senayor ubhayor api tān samīkṣya sa kaunteyaḥ sarvān bandhūn avasthitān
In essence: The tragedy deepens when we realize the bonds extend across enemy lines—there is no 'other side' free from love's entanglement.
A conversation between a seeker and guide to help you feel this verse deeply
Sadhak-Guru Dialogue
Sadhak: "Guruji, the verse says Arjuna saw kinsmen in BOTH armies. But the Pandavas were the good side. Weren't his bonds with them more justified?"
Guru: "Does love ask permission from morality? Arjuna's grandfather Bhishma was on the Kaurava side. His teacher Drona was there. Did they stop being his grandfather and teacher because of their allegiance? The heart does not reorganize itself according to political positions."
Sadhak: "But surely we have to choose sides sometimes. Life requires it."
Guru: "Choice of action, yes. But notice what the verse reveals: the choice of action doesn't eliminate the bond. You may fight against someone, but you cannot unfeel your connection to them. Arjuna will eventually fight—but he will never stop loving those he fights."
Sadhak: "That sounds like torture—to fight someone you love."
Guru: "It is torture when done without understanding. It becomes dharma when done with full consciousness of what you are doing and why. The Gita doesn't promise that right action will be painless. It promises that right action, done with awareness, will not create karma."
Sadhak: "The word 'samikshya'—looking carefully—seems important. Why emphasize that he looked carefully?"
Guru: "Because superficial looking protects us. When you glance at suffering, you can walk past. When you look carefully—'samikshya'—you cannot escape. Arjuna is doing what most warriors avoid: truly seeing what war means. This is spiritual courage before physical action."
Sadhak: "I notice the verse says 'suhridah'—well-wishers. These aren't even family, just people who wished him well."
Guru: "Beautiful observation. The web extends beyond blood. Anyone who ever wished you well, helped you, smiled at you—they are part of your 'bandhu,' your binding. The battlefield contained people who had cheered for Arjuna in tournaments, who had celebrated his victories, who genuinely wanted good for him. Now they stood ready to kill or be killed."
Sadhak: "This makes war seem impossible to justify."
Guru: "And yet the Gita will justify it—under specific conditions, with specific consciousness. That's the mystery Krishna will unfold. But justification comes AFTER seeing, not instead of it. Anyone who justifies war without first seeing what Arjuna sees has not earned the right to that justification."
Sadhak: "So the seeing is necessary even if action follows?"
Guru: "Especially if action follows. Action without seeing is violence. Action after seeing is sacrifice. The soldier who kills without seeing faces is different from the warrior who sees clearly and acts from dharmic necessity. The Gita insists on this difference."
Did this resonate with you? Share it with someone who needs to hear this.
🌅 Daily Practice
As you start your day, identify a situation where you're inclined to see 'two sides' in opposition—perhaps a workplace conflict, a family division, or a political debate. Like Arjuna seeing kinsmen in both armies, look for connections that cross the divide. Who do you love, respect, or owe gratitude to on 'the other side'? Let this recognition complicate your simple us-versus-them narrative. Complexity is not confusion; it's accuracy.
When you encounter conflict today—whether in a meeting, online, or in conversation—practice 'samikshya': careful seeing rather than quick categorizing. Before responding to someone you disagree with, pause to recognize them as someone's son, daughter, parent, friend. This doesn't change your position but changes your relationship to the conflict. You become a participant who sees rather than a combatant who reacts.
In evening reflection, map your own 'ubhayor api'—the ways your bonds extend across boundaries you've drawn. Perhaps you have friends from different political persuasions, family members who made choices you disagree with, or colleagues you've mentally written off. Write their names. For each, acknowledge: 'This person is my bandhu—bound to me by some genuine connection.' Let the recognition soften the boundaries without erasing your discernment.