GitaChapter 2Verse 35

Gita 2.35

Sankhya Yoga

भयाद्रणादुपरतं मंस्यन्ते त्वां महारथाः । येषां च त्वं बहुमतो भूत्वा यास्यसि लाघवम् ॥

bhayād raṇād uparataṁ maṁsyante tvāṁ mahārathāḥ yeṣāṁ ca tvaṁ bahu-mato bhūtvā yāsyasi lāghavam

In essence: The great warriors who honor you today will think you fled from fear—and you will fall from their esteem into insignificance.

A conversation between a seeker and guide to help you feel this verse deeply

Sadhak-Guru Dialogue

Sadhak: "Guru, this seems like Krishna is appealing to peer pressure—'what will the other warriors think?' Is that an appropriate motivation for spiritual teaching?"

Guru: "You are right that this is not the highest teaching. But consider: is Arjuna currently capable of acting from the highest teaching? He has just collapsed in despair, his bow fallen from his hands. Sometimes we must stand before we can run."

Sadhak: "So Krishna is using a lower motivation to get Arjuna moving, trusting that higher understanding will come later?"

Guru: "Exactly. This is skillful teaching—upāya in Sanskrit. You use what works at the present moment. A drowning person cannot be taught philosophy; first you throw them a rope. Arjuna's attachment to warrior esteem is a rope he will grasp. Once on shore, deeper teachings become possible."

Sadhak: "But isn't caring about what 'mahārathās' think just ego? Shouldn't Arjuna be indifferent to their judgment?"

Guru: "Eventually, yes—the Gita will teach equanimity toward praise and blame. But right now, Arjuna is not indifferent; he is deeply invested in this community of warriors. That investment can be used or fought. Fighting it at this moment would leave Arjuna even more paralyzed. Using it moves him toward action, where lessons can be learned."

Sadhak: "The verse says they will think he withdrew 'from fear.' But his real motivation is compassion and confusion, not fear. Isn't the world misjudging him?"

Guru: "This is a profound insight into how reputation works. The world judges actions, not intentions. A complex inner state appears as a simple outer behavior—withdrawal. Observers fill in the simplest explanation. This is not the world being unkind; it is how perception works. We never see others' motives directly; we infer them from behavior, usually incorrectly."

Sadhak: "So the teaching is also about the gap between our inner truth and how we appear to others?"

Guru: "Yes. And this gap can be bridged only by action. If Arjuna wants his compassion understood, he must find a way to act that expresses it clearly. Mere withdrawal will be misread. The challenge is to find action that is both true to inner reality and comprehensible to the world. This is what Krishna is guiding him toward."

Sadhak: "'Lāghavam'—insignificance. Is that really so bad? Many spiritual traditions value being unimportant, unknown, humble."

Guru: "There is chosen insignificance and fallen insignificance. A sage who withdraws from the world to seek truth is not 'lāghava'—their insignificance is willed, meaningful, respected. But a warrior who flees battle becomes insignificant through failure, not choice. The stain is not humility but humiliation. The difference is agency: did you step down, or did you fall?"

Sadhak: "This makes me think about my own life—times when I withdrew from challenges and wondered what people thought of me."

Guru: "That is the personal application. We all have our battlefields—confrontations avoided, truths unspoken, risks untaken. And we carry the suspicion that others noticed, that they interpreted our withdrawal as weakness. Whether or not they actually judge us, we judge ourselves. Krishna's words to Arjuna echo in our own conscience."

Did this resonate with you? Share it with someone who needs to hear this.

🌅 Daily Practice

🌅 Morning

Consider who your 'mahārathās' are—the people whose good opinion genuinely matters to you, not from vanity but from shared values and mutual respect. These might be mentors, peers in your field, family members whose judgment you trust. Let their imagined observation of your day guide you toward your best self. Not people-pleasing, but honoring the trust implicit in mutual respect.

☀️ Daytime

When facing a challenging moment where withdrawal seems tempting, visualize your mahārathās watching. Not to perform for them, but to ask: 'Would this action earn their respect or their disappointed understanding that I fell short of what I could be?' Use their internalized presence as a compass pointing toward courage. External witnesses become internal conscience.

🌙 Evening

Reflect: Where today did I risk 'lāghavam'—falling in the esteem of those I respect? Were there moments of withdrawal that will be remembered as fear? If so, the path is not self-condemnation but recognition: tomorrow offers new choices. Reputation is not fixed in a single day. The mahārathās are still watching, and the story is still being written.

Common Questions

Why should Arjuna care what the mahārathās think? Many of them are on the enemy side—Bhishma, Drona, Karna.
Arjuna's identity is built on being recognized as a peer among these great warriors. They form his reference group, his professional community. When a lawyer considers how other lawyers view them, or an artist how other artists regard their work, they are thinking of their mahārathās. These are the people whose opinion genuinely matters because they understand the standards of the craft. An outsider's praise or blame may be ignorable, but judgment from those who truly understand one's domain cuts deeply. For Arjuna, the mahārathās on both sides form this community of judgment.
Isn't 'lāghavam' (insignificance) actually a spiritual goal? Don't we want to become nobody, egoless?
There is a crucial difference between transcending the ego through spiritual realization and losing one's social standing through apparent cowardice. The sage becomes 'nobody' by seeing through the illusion of the separate self—this is liberation. Arjuna would become 'nobody' by betraying his demonstrated capabilities and abandoning his duty—this is degradation. The words may be similar, but the realities are opposite. True spiritual humility has a quiet power; social insignificance from failure has only shame.
What if Arjuna's withdrawal could be explained and understood? Couldn't he later clarify his true motives?
Actions speak louder than explanations. Once the great withdrawal happens, any explanation sounds like excuse-making. 'I wasn't really afraid, I was confused about dharma' would be heard as rationalization. The moment of crisis is the moment of definition. Explanations offered later cannot undo the impression formed in that defining moment. This is why Krishna presses so hard now: there is no 'later' for reputation formed in crisis. The story that crystallizes on the battlefield will be the permanent story.