Gita 05.22 – The so-called pleasure is the source of trouble

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ye hi saṁsparśa-jā bhogā
duḥkha-yonaya eva te
ādy-antavantaḥ kaunteya
na teṣu ramate budhaḥ (Bg 5.22)

Word-for-word:
ye — those; hi — certainly; saṁsparśa-jāḥ — by contact with the material senses; bhogāḥ — enjoyments; duḥkha — distress; yonayaḥ — sources of; eva — certainly; te — they are; ādi — beginning; anta — end; vantaḥ — subject to; kaunteya — O son of Kuntī; na — never; teṣu — in those; ramate — takes delight; budhaḥ — the intelligent person.

Translation:
An intelligent person does not take part in the sources of misery, which are due to contact with the material senses. O son of Kuntī, such pleasures have a beginning and an end, and so the wise man does not delight in them.

Explanation:
Here, Kṛṣṇa speaks a verse that is often quoted to describe the nature of material pleasure. In the context of the Bhagavad-gītā, this section discusses the soul who is well situated on the path of liberation and how such a person conducts himself.

Kṛṣṇa says:
ye hi saṁsparśa-jā bhogā: The pleasure that arises from the contact of the senses with their objects.
For example, the tongue experiences pleasure when it tastes delicious food, or the hands when they touch something soft. In this way, the senses come into contact with sense objects, and pleasure arises from that interaction.
duḥkha-yonaya eva te: They are certainly the source, or womb, of misery.
ādy-antavantaḥ kaunteya: They have a beginning and an end, O son of Kuntī.
na teṣu ramate budhaḥ: Therefore, a wise person does not delight in them.
A wise person avoids taking pleasure in sense contact, knowing that such pleasures are the womb of misery and are temporary, having both a beginning and an end.

In one sense, Kṛṣṇa in this verse is elaborating on what He stated in verse 5.21, where He described how one can experience unlimited happiness—sukham akṣayam aśnute. The first step in that process is bāhya-sparśeṣv asaktātmā—not being captivated by external pleasures, but becoming indifferent to them.

We may wonder: with so many wonderful pleasures available outside, how can one become indifferent to them? Therefore, Kṛṣṇa explains the process for cultivating such indifference. He instructs us to recognize the ‘true nature’ of these pleasures. The pleasures that arise from the contact of the senses with their objects (ye hi saṁsparśa-jā bhogā) are in fact the wombs of misery (duḥkha-yonaya eva te).

When a child is in the womb, during the early stages of pregnancy nothing is visible. Later, the baby bump becomes noticeable, but even before that, the child is present and growing, and will eventually appear at birth. In the same way, when we engage in sense pleasures, the misery may not be visible at first. Yet those pleasures are the womb of suffering, and from that womb, misery is destined to emerge. Unlike human pregnancy, which can be terminated through abortion, there is no possibility of aborting the misery that follows sense indulgence.

When there is indulgence, there will inevitably be consequence. Misery will surely follow, for such pleasure is indeed the definite source of suffering.

Someone may question, “We don’t see any source of misery.” Kṛṣṇa immediately responds: ādy-antavantaḥ kaunteya—such pleasures have a beginning and an end, O son of Kuntī.

If we reflect on sensory pleasure, misery accompanies it both before it begins and after it ends. How so? One might accept that after its end, there could be karmic consequences, but even without considering karma, the misery is present beforehand. Before the pleasure begins, there is agitation—craving arises, and craving torments us. It consumes the mind with thoughts of “I want it, I must have it.” The desire itself pierces us from within.

Just as a jockey or charioteer urges the horses to run faster by using whiplashes or spurs, sharp instruments are sometimes employed to prod the animals. With elephants, goads with pointed ends are often used, while with horses, spurs are more common.

The phrase “spur on” comes from this usage. A spur is an object with sharp points, applied to press an animal into motion. Thus, to “spur on” means to drive or push forward, often with urgency.

In the same way, desires often spur us on, relentlessly goading us: “Come on, enjoy, enjoy, enjoy.” Before indulgence, there is usually anxiety, agitation, and the torment of unfulfilled desire. Thus, even before the pleasure arrives, misery is already present. Then comes the fleeting experience of pleasure. But usually, when sense gratification stops, it is not because the desire has been satisfied but because our capacity is exhausted. Indulgence typically leaves the desire stronger than before, and that is why we end up dissatisfied.

To explain this further: initially, a desire arises to enjoy. For example, someone feels restless with the craving to eat something delicious. To satisfy this, the person orders gulab jamuns. At a feast, however, where a thousand people are to be served, each person may receive only one or two gulab jamuns.

But suppose we attend a special program where everyone can eat as many gulab jamuns as they like. In the first case, at a feast with limited portions, one gulab jamun is served, and when we ask for a second, we are told there is no more. The unfulfilled desire leaves us disappointed.

In the second case, where gulab jamuns are unlimited, one may eat five, ten, or even fifteen. But eventually, the capacity to eat runs out. At that point, one has to stop—not because the desire is fully satisfied, but because the body cannot take any more. And when the eating stops, the pleasure also ends, again leaving disappointment. This is why Kṛṣṇa says: duḥkha-yonaya eva te—they are certainly the source of misery.

With regard to physical intimacy, when people engage in it and then stop, it is usually not because the desire has been fully satisfied, but because the body’s capacity is exhausted. In fact, indulgence often causes the desire to grow stronger. When the capacity runs out, the activity must end, and very often, immediately after the enjoyment, misery sets in—because frustration arises from the unfulfilled and ever-increasing desire.

There can be misery for multiple reasons. First, we may desire enjoyment, but the experience turns out to be an anticlimax. For example, we crave a gulab jamun and finally receive one, only to discover that it is poorly prepared—the sugar is missing, it is slightly burnt, and the taste is disappointing. Such an anticlimax leads to frustration.

Suppose the gulab jamun is perfectly prepared—we eat it and relish the taste. But once the supply is exhausted, disappointment sets in. Even when the body’s capacity to enjoy is exhausted and we can no longer continue, we again feel dissatisfied. Moreover, enjoyment at the bodily level usually carries further consequences.

Sometimes, if we eat as much as the mind urges us to, the body soon falls sick. This is because the mind’s desire to enjoy is often far greater than the body’s capacity to handle. That is why so many people suffer from obesity.

Similarly, practically all forms of sense gratification are linked to misery, disease, and disorder when indulged in without restraint or proportion. For example, sexually transmitted diseases may arise from various causes, but one prominent reason is the desire to experiment with multiple partners, leading to exposure to unknown infections. Moreover, when people engage in immoral or sinful activities, there are also inevitable karmic consequences.

Essentially, what we call ‘bhoga’ is often nothing more than the ‘temporary removal of a self-inflicted misery.’ The moment we begin to entertain a worldly or material desire, agitation arises in the consciousness. It is like a spur constantly pricking us, goading us: “Go get it, go get it.” That very goading is miserable. When we finally obtain the desired enjoyment, the spur stops pressing us, and the agitation subsides—giving only temporary relief.

That relief from a self-inflicted misery is what we label as ‘pleasure.’ But when that pleasure is exhausted, we are once again left with emptiness. Thus, ādy-antavantaḥ kaunteya—such pleasures have a beginning and an end, O son of Kuntī.

Knowing that we are eternal, the wise person (budhaḥ) understands that he should not delight in temporary pleasures (na teṣu ramate). Instead, he turns toward the eternal and does not settle for that which is fleeting and bound to end in misery. By recognizing material pleasure as both temporary and a source of suffering, the wise person becomes indifferent to external enjoyments, aware that true delight is not found in them.

Thus, the wise rise above fleeting pleasures, choosing the eternal source of true happiness over the temporary sparks of worldly enjoyment.

Thank you.