GitaChapter 2Verse 9

Gita 2.9

Sankhya Yoga

सञ्जय उवाच । एवमुक्त्वा हृषीकेशं गुडाकेशः परन्तप । न योत्स्य इति गोविन्दमुक्त्वा तूष्णीं बभूव ह ॥

sañjaya uvāca | evam uktvā hṛṣīkeśaṁ guḍākeśaḥ parantapa | na yotsya iti govindam uktvā tūṣṇīṁ babhūva ha ||

In essence: In the space between surrender and teaching, silence—the warrior falls silent, and in that silence, the universe prepares to speak.

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

Sadhak-Guru Dialogue

Sadhak: "Why is this verse narrated by Sanjaya? We were in direct dialogue before."

Guru: "Sanjaya's interjection serves multiple purposes. It reminds us of the frame story—that Dhritarashtra is listening to all this, learning of his enemies' crisis. It also creates a pause, a breath between Arjuna's surrender and Krishna's response. The narrative voice stepping in signals a major transition: the end of problem and beginning of solution."

Sadhak: "The three names for Krishna—Hrishikesha, Govinda—do they mean something specific?"

Guru: "'Hṛṣīkeśa' means master of the senses. Arjuna has just described his senses being dried up by grief. The name hints that help is near—the one who masters the senses is right beside him. 'Govinda' means protector of cows or, esoterically, the one who gives joy to the senses and earth. These names contain the promise of what Krishna will offer."

Sadhak: "And Arjuna is called 'Gudakesha'—conqueror of sleep. That seems odd when he's so confused."

Guru: "It's a reminder of his true nature. The name refers to Arjuna's ability to remain awake and alert when others sleep—a warrior's discipline. But here he is spiritually asleep, caught in the dream of grief and delusion. The name is both honor and irony: the one who conquers sleep has been conquered by the sleep of confusion. But if he conquered sleep before, he can awaken again."

Sadhak: "What is the significance of 'na yotsye'—I shall not fight?"

Guru: "This is Arjuna's bottom line, his final position after all the arguments. It is clear, definitive: 'I will not fight.' Notice that he has moved from questioning ('How can I fight?') to refusal ('I will not fight'). Having surrendered to Krishna, he states his current conviction clearly. This gives Krishna something concrete to work with. A vague doubt is harder to address than a clear position."

Sadhak: "And then he 'becomes silent.' Why is this significant?"

Guru: "The silence is everything. Teaching cannot enter a mind that is still generating noise. Arjuna has exhausted his words, his arguments, his positions. What remains is receptive emptiness. 'Tūṣṇīṁ babhūva'—he became silence itself, not just 'he stopped talking.' This is the state of the true student: present, open, waiting, empty of preconceptions."

Sadhak: "So the silence is actually a kind of readiness?"

Guru: "Exactly. It is the readiness that surrender creates. In verse 2.7, Arjuna surrendered and asked for teaching. Here he demonstrates that surrender by falling silent. He has said 'śādhi mām'—teach me—and now he creates the space for teaching to enter. This is the action that follows the words."

Sadhak: "I notice that Sanjaya addresses Dhritarashtra as 'parantapa'—scorcher of enemies. Isn't that ironic?"

Guru: "Very much so. Dhritarashtra, who sent his sons to war hoping to destroy his enemies (the Pandavas), is called 'scorcher of enemies' while hearing about his greatest enemy's moment of weakness and surrender. But the deeper irony is that Dhritarashtra's real enemies are internal—his attachment, his blindness to dharma. Arjuna is confronting his internal enemies; Dhritarashtra is not."

Sadhak: "How does this silence apply to my own practice?"

Guru: "Before you can hear wisdom, you must stop generating noise. This doesn't mean never thinking or speaking, but it means creating periods of genuine receptivity—where you are not preparing your response, not defending your position, not analyzing what you hear. Just receiving. Arjuna's silence is the model for meditation itself: the cessation of the mind's chatter that allows deeper truth to emerge."

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🌅 Daily Practice

🌅 Morning

Begin your day with a few minutes of deliberate silence—not just absence of speech, but quieting of internal commentary. See if you can create the 'tūṣṇīṁ babhūva' state that Arjuna enters: present, receptive, empty. Notice what arises in this space that cannot arise when the mind is busy.

☀️ Daytime

In conversations today, experiment with true listening. Instead of preparing your response while the other person speaks, try complete receptivity—as if their words were teachings you need to fully receive. Notice the difference in what you hear and understand.

🌙 Evening

Before sleep, state clearly your own 'na yotsye'—whatever confusion or conviction you are currently holding about some situation in your life. Then let it go into silence. See if the act of clearly stating and then releasing creates any space for new understanding to enter.

Common Questions

Arjuna says 'I will not fight' but then he does fight. Was his refusal insincere?
Arjuna's refusal was completely sincere in the moment. He genuinely believed he should not and would not fight. The transformation that follows is not a revelation that he was insincere but a genuine change in understanding. Through Krishna's teaching, Arjuna will see his situation differently and choose to fight from a different consciousness. The Gita shows authentic transformation, not pretense. The Arjuna who fights at the end is not the same as the Arjuna who refused—he has been changed by wisdom.
Why does the text use so many different names for Krishna and Arjuna?
The multiple names serve several purposes: they provide poetic variation in the Sanskrit; they invoke different aspects of each character appropriate to the context; and they carry embedded meanings that enrich the text. For instance, calling Krishna 'Hrishikesha' (master of the senses) when Arjuna has just described his senses withering subtly suggests the solution. These names are not arbitrary but carefully chosen commentaries on the action.
Is the silence after surrender a necessary step, or could Arjuna have received teaching while still talking?
Some level of internal silence is necessary to receive genuine teaching. If the mind is busy generating its own content, it cannot fully receive external wisdom. This is why meditative traditions emphasize quieting the mind. Arjuna's external silence mirrors the internal stillness required for transformation. It's not that talking is bad, but that continuous mental activity leaves no space for new understanding to arise. The pause creates possibility.