असतो मा सद्गमय । तमसो मा ज्योतिर्गमय । मृत्योर्माऽमृतं गमय ॥
asato mā sadgamaya, tamaso mā jyotirgamaya, mṛtyormā’mṛtaṃ gamaya.
From falsehood lead me to truth, From darkness lead me to light, From death lead me to immortality. Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad (1.3.28.)
If there is one certainty in life, it is that we are merely mortal. And yet, passing away is something we cannot accept. It hurts intensely when someone we love passes away. It is perhaps the most profound event in a person’s life. We might wonder why we find it so hard to accept death.
Why do we find it so hard to accept death?
Whether it is someone young or at an old age, it’s still difficult for the people who are left behind. It is also hard for those approaching death to accept their fate. Or, as my father said several times in the past few years, “I am waiting at the station for the train’s final destination. There are three questions which no one can answer for me: when, where and how someone dies. Only God knows.”
Very few people have the ability to come to terms with death. We can draw as much as we can from our deepest desire as human beings: to give love sincerely and to receive love. But when someone we know passes away this love is often assailed with a range of emotions. Anger, rage and other emotions obscure our sincerity and our love. Somewhere inside we feel that we are more than the body–life cannot simply end when the breath ceases.
Scholars (Āchāryas) have given their views, based on their deep study of the Hindu scriptures. They tell us that, at our core, is the ātman (soul). The ātman is neither born nor does it die; it is permanently present. And yet, we see only this body, which is transitory; we do not see the indwelling, permanent ātman. If, we believe the truth is only that which we can see, then the death of the body is the truth, because that is what we see. In that case, since the ātman is not visible, we do not consider it as truth. In this case, why do we still struggle with the idea of death? Why do we so often fail to accept the passing away of someone, not only in the days, weeks and months after it happens, but for the rest of our lives?
It could be that somewhere deep inside we accept that the truth is more than what we can see.
Since death is difficult to fathom, our mind – that instinctually seeks to bypass our existential angst – tries to dismiss it as not true. If it is transitory, how can it be the truth? Shouldn’t truth be constant? The sages tell us, this is avidyā (ignorance); something inside is saying death is not true. Perhaps the spark of the Divine, of the all-encompassing in us is more intelligent than the rest of us. This spark wakes up every now and then to tell us that there is more to life than the eye can see. This happens in spite of our efforts to hide and barricade ourselves from the truth. Sooner or later the truth comes forward, especially when we experience major events such as birth and death. Would it help us to draw strength from this truth at times of deep sorrow?
We can consciously tap into that spark within us.
We can seek harmony with it.
We can become best friends with it.
We can always remember that this spark is free
and permanently present and that it is not the body.
We can allow this spark to be more present in our daily lives.
We can draw strength from it.
Deepening our connection to this spark may require fundamental changes in our thinking. We must realize that life does not end at the death of the body; we are more than this body. And the same is true for those in transition. They too are more than the body; their life does not end at the death of the body. We are talking about the free, permanent, immortal ātman. The body is the opposite: not free, not permanent and mortal but we cannot apply those same rules to the ātman. To move beyond our limited perception, we have to say to ourselves: “I am more than the body, I am the unchanging, I am the immortal ātman.” This evokes the question: Do we have the power to control our ātman? Or is there something outside of us that controls it all? Hindu wisdom tells us: yat piṇḍe, tat brahmāṇḍe. That which is within us is also outside us. That which is outside us is also inside us. That connection implies that we have a role to play in the journey of our soul.
How does the ātman connect to our body?
In everyday life, the ātman is connected to our body through the breath. If we stop breathing, the body ceases to exist. The breath is a means of finding our inner dimensions. The Yoga Sūtras (Chapter 2, the sādana pāda, in verses 3 and 9) tell us:
अविद्यास्मितारागद्वेषाभिनिवेशाः पञ्च क्लेशाः॥
Avidyāsmitārāgadveṣābhiniveśāḥ pañca kleśāḥ
Ignorance, egoism, attachment, aversion, and fear of death are the five kleshas or unwholesome mental states. (Patañjali Yoga Sūtra 2.3)
स्वरसवाही विदुषोऽपि तथारूढोऽभिनिवेशः॥
Svarasavāhī viduṣo’pi tathārūḍho’bhiniveśaḥ
Fear of death/clinging to life exists in everyone, both in wise & the ignorant. (Patañjali Yoga Sūtra 2.9)
The Bhagavad Gītā also tells us: in chapter 2 Sāṃkhya Yoga in verses 13, 20, 22 about life and survival
देहिनोऽस्मिन्यथा देहे कौमारं यौवनं जरा ।
तथा देहान्तरप्राप्तिर्धीरस्तत्र न मुह्यति ।।
dehino ’smin yathā dehe kaumāraṁ yauvanaṁ jarā
tathā dehāntara-prāptir dhīrastatra na muhyati
Just as the embodied soul continuously passes from childhood to youth to old age, similarly, at the time of death, the soul passes into another body. The wise are not deluded by this. (Bhagavad-Gītā 2.13)
न जायते म्रियते वा कदाचिन्नायं भूत्वा भविता वा न भूय: ।
अजो नित्य: शाश्वतोऽयं पुराणो न हन्यते हन्यमाने शरीरे ।।
na jāyate mriyate vā kadāchinnāyaṁ bhūtvā bhavitā vā na bhūyaḥ
ajo nityaḥ śhāśhvato’yaṁ purāṇo na hanyate hanyamāne śharīre
The soul is neither born, nor does it ever die; nor having once existed, does it ever cease to be. The soul is without birth, eternal, immortal, and ageless. It is not destroyed when the body is destroyed. (Bhagavad-Gītā 2.20)
वासांसि जीर्णानि यथा विहाय नवानि गृह्णाति नरोऽपराणि ।
तथा शरीराणि विहाय जीर्णान्यन्यानि संयाति नवानि देही ।।
vāsānsi jīrṇāni yathā vihāya navāni gṛhṇāti naro’parāṇi
tathā śharīrāṇi vihāya jīrṇānyanyāni saṃyāti navāni dehī
As a person sheds worn-out garments and wears new ones, likewise, at the time of death, the soul casts off its worn-out body and enters a new one. (Bhagavad-Gītā 2.22)
Maybe these words are not what we would like to hear. Maybe they don’t sit well with us. But if we can think about them for a moment, they tell us a lot. Perhaps they remind us that we are in a state of ignorance and can step out of it. We cannot understand these wonderful insights from our Hindu scriptures from our everyday awareness. We have to change our self-perception.
To begin with, we must accept that we are more than the body. This holds equally true for the living, dying, and deceased. Deep realization of this truth can help us better accept the passing of our loved ones; for their true selves live on. For us, it takes the form of stories of those who died and the lessons we have consciously or unconsciously learned from them and which we can hold on to as an anchor. This marks the beginning of a journey of a relationship with the living person to a relationship that we develop with the qualities and memories of those we have lost.
स य एषोऽणिमैतदात्म्यमिदं सर्वं तत्सत्यं स आत्मा तत्त्वमसि श्वेतकेतो
इति भूय एव मा भगवान्विज्ञापयत्विति तथा सोम्येति होवाच ॥ ६.९.४ ॥
sa ya eṣo’ṇimaitadātmyamidaṃ sarvaṃ tatsatyaṃ sa ātmā tat tvam asi śvetaketo
iti bhūya eva mā bhagavānvijñāpayatviti tathā somyeti hovāca || 6.9.4 ||
‘That which is the subtlest of all is the Self of all this. It is the Truth. It is the Self. That thou art. (Chāndogyopaniṣad 6.9.4)
Let us draw strength from the wise lessons of Hinduism about the body, the ātman, and the journey of the ātman to its original source. The ātman was, is, and will always be there. It incarnates into a body, disincarnates and then reincarnates until it reaches the end of its journey, mokṣa, the formless state of liberation. Let us continue to feel and remember the power and love of the ātman in the forms of those we have known and loved, but let us not linger on that one form of the ātman. Let us hope that that form lives on in us and wish a beautiful journey for that ātman.
Let’s hope that the train of life into which the ātman steps, has a beautiful destination no matter how difficult it is for us.
ॐ पूर्णमदः पूर्णमिदम् पूर्णात् पूर्णमुदच्यते।| पूर्णस्य पूर्णमादाय पूर्णमेवावशिष्यते ।।
ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः ।।
oṃ pūrṇam adaḥ pūrṇam idam pūrṇāt pūrṇam udacyate
pūrṇasya pūrṇam ādāya pūrṇam evāvaśiṣyate
oṃ śāntiḥ śāntiḥ śāntiḥ
Om! That is infinite (Man), and this (universe) is infinite. The infinite proceeds from the infinite. (Then) taking the infinitude of the infinite (universe), It remains as the infinite (Brāhman) alone. Om! Peace! Peace! Peace! (Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad 5.1.1)In simpler words: That is whole; this is whole; from that whole this whole came; from that whole, this whole is removed. What remains is whole.
This article is lovingly and respectfully dedicated to Late Bechoepersad Nandram (Helena Christina, Suriname 25-12-1925 – Diemen, Netherlands 16-03-2021), one of the oldest immigrant descendants of Suriname to the Netherlands, who left his body on 16th March 2021. His cross-cultural journey spanning six generations started with his grandmother and father (who emigrated from India at the beginning of 20th century) to his great grandchildren (born and raised in the Netherlands) has been nicely chronicled in the book “Be at Home Wherever You Are” available in Dutch, English and Hindi.