Gita 2.30

Sadhak: "Krishna says the Self in everyone's body is indestructible. But if that's true, why does killing seem wrong? If I can't really harm anyone's Self, what prevents violence?"

Guru: "This is a crucial question that the Gita addresses throughout. The indestructibility of the Self does not justify violence any more than the immortality of the soul justifies murder in any tradition. The body-mind suffers; pain is real at the level of manifestation; karma accrues from actions. Killing creates suffering for the one killed (the body-mind experiences death), for those who love them, and for the killer (through karmic consequences). The teaching here is not 'therefore kill without concern' but 'therefore act from duty without paralyzing grief.' Arjuna must fight because it is his dharma and because non-action in his situation would cause greater harm. But he must fight without hatred, without pleasure in destruction, knowing that the deepest essence of his enemies is untouchable."

Sadhak: "So the teaching is about how to relate to necessary action, not a justification for any action?"

Guru: "Exactly. The context is essential. Arjuna faces a war that has been forced upon him; peaceful solutions have been exhausted; his enemies have acted with injustice. His choice is not between fighting and peace but between fighting and allowing adharma to triumph. Given this specific situation, Krishna helps him act without the psychological paralysis of grief. If Arjuna were contemplating aggression, conquest, or revenge, the teaching would be different. The Gita is situational wisdom, not a blanket license. 'Therefore fight' applies to Arjuna on that battlefield; it is not a universal command but an application of deeper principles to his particular circumstances."

Sadhak: "Krishna says the Self dwells in 'sarvasya'—everyone. Does this mean the same Self is in all beings, or that each being has its own immortal self?"

Guru: "Both views have their place in Indian philosophy. At one level, each being has an individual soul (jīvātman) that continues through births, carrying karma and tendencies. At the deepest level, there is only one Self (Paramātman) appearing as all beings, just as one ocean appears as many waves. The Gita speaks from both perspectives at different points. Here, the practical implication is the same: whether one Self or many, the essence in each body is indestructible. You cannot harm what is ultimately real in anyone, including those you may have to oppose in the world. This should make action more compassionate, not less—you see even your enemy as, at the deepest level, the same imperishable reality you yourself are."

Sadhak: "Why does Krishna specifically say 'you should not grieve for any being'? Does this mean grief is always wrong?"

Guru: "The verse addresses a specific kind of grief—the despairing grief that arises from believing that beings are destroyed at death, that loss is ultimate, that those we love can be annihilated. This grief is based on a metaphysical error and leads to psychological paralysis. Natural grief at separation—the love-pain of missing someone—is human and appropriate. But it is meant to pass, like weather, not become a permanent state. The teaching transforms grief by providing understanding: what you grieve for cannot be destroyed. The form has changed; the essence continues. This knowledge allows grief to complete its natural cycle rather than becoming chronic despair."

Sadhak: "If I truly believed this, wouldn't I become indifferent to the suffering around me?"

Guru: "This is a common concern, but the opposite happens. When you see the indestructible Self in all beings, you see all beings as sacred. Suffering becomes more poignant, not less, because you recognize it as unnecessary—arising from ignorance of one's true nature. Compassion deepens because you want others to know what you know: that they are not the vulnerable, suffering entities they take themselves to be. The jñānī (one who knows) serves others not from pity but from love, not from superiority but from identity. The Gita's warriors fight to protect dharma, not because they don't care about the enemies but because they see a larger good that sometimes requires difficult action."

Sadhak: "How do I maintain this perspective when someone I love dies? In that moment, philosophy seems hollow."

Guru: "In the immediate moment of loss, let yourself grieve. The teaching is not meant to suppress genuine emotion. But as time passes, let understanding gradually illuminate the grief. Remember: the one you love is not annihilated. The Self that animated their body is eternal, untouchable by death. The love you shared is not destroyed—love transcends bodies. What has ended is a particular form of relationship; the essence continues. Visit this understanding gently, again and again, not as a mental exercise but as a comfort. Let the teaching seep into the grief until the grief naturally transforms into acceptance, love, and even gratitude for the time you had together."

Sadhak: "The verse says the Self is 'nityam'—eternal. How can I verify this, not just accept it on faith?"

Guru: "Verification comes through inquiry and meditation. Consider: you have been aware throughout your life, but the body has completely changed—every cell replaced multiple times. Thoughts, emotions, memories have come and gone. Roles have changed—child, student, adult. Yet something has remained continuous: the awareness in which all these changes appeared. What is that unchanging witness? Investigate. In deep meditation, when thoughts subside, what remains? Not blankness, but awareness—aware of itself, luminous, peaceful. That awareness does not depend on the body for its existence; it is the light by which the body is known. This is not faith but direct investigation. The Gita invites you to verify, not just believe."

Sadhak: "So 'therefore do not grieve' is not a command to suppress grief but an invitation to understand?"

Guru: "Precisely. Krishna is saying: given what the Self is, given its eternal, indestructible nature in all beings, the basis for debilitating grief dissolves. You are not being ordered to feel differently; you are being shown a truth that naturally changes how you feel. Understanding transforms emotion. If you truly see that what you love in beings cannot be destroyed, the desperate quality of grief—the sense that something has been lost forever—cannot sustain itself. What remains is the tender ache of separation, which is simply love expressing itself. That love never needs to end; it continues even when the form is gone."