Gita 02.25 – Contemplate the inconceivable to relish the spiritual

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avyakto ’yam acintyo ’yam
avikāryo ’yam ucyate
tasmād evaṁ viditvainaṁ
nānuśocitum arhasi (Bg 2.25)

Word-for-word:
avyaktaḥ — invisible; ayam — this soul; acintyaḥ — inconceivable; ayam — this soul; avikāryaḥ — unchangeable; ayam — this soul; ucyate — is said; tasmāt — therefore; evam — like this; viditvā — knowing it well; enam — this soul; na — do not; anuśocitum — to lament; arhasi — you deserve.

Translation:
It is said that the soul is invisible, inconceivable and immutable. Knowing this, you should not grieve for the body.

Explanation:
avyakto ’yam acintyo ’yam: The soul, which is being referred to throughout this section, is unmanifest (avyakto ’yam) and inconceivable (acintyo ’yam). ‘Avyakta’ means it is not manifest to the senses, and ‘acintya’ means it is not conceivable even by the mind.
avikāryo ’yam ucyate: It does not undergo any transformations.
tasmād evaṁ viditvainaṁ: Knowing it to be so,
nānuśocitum arhasi: it behooves you not to lament, O Arjuna.

We will see the theme of ‘nānuśocitum arhasi’ recur throughout the next six to seven verses. The purpose of this section is to dispel Arjuna’s grief by offering the solace of spiritual knowledge—the knowledge of the soul’s eternality.

Here, Kṛṣṇa continues explaining the nature of the soul by describing three of its features: avyakta, acintya, and avikārya. Avyakta means the soul is unmanifest to the senses. The soul is a spiritual particle. At the highest level, the soul is a person, but in its current state, it exists as a particle of consciousness, imperceptible to the gross senses.

By definition, spirit is non-material and cannot be perceived by material senses. The material senses are simply not the right apparatus for perceiving the soul, just as the eyes cannot hear sound and the ears cannot taste food. To observe any particular phenomenon, we need the appropriate means of perception—without it, observation is impossible.

Hence, the soul is unmanifest to the senses. Not only that, but it is also acintya—it is inconceivable to the mind.

This may raise a question—If the soul is inconceivable, what is the point of thinking about it? If it cannot be conceived, why contemplate it at all?

There are two perspectives or two different ways to respond to this question. First, while the soul cannot be fully and precisely conceived by the mind, it can be understood to a significant extent through scriptural revelation. We can infer the existence of the soul through observation, analysis, and introspection.

For instance, we can perceive that the soul must possess consciousness because consciousness does not arise from dead matter—it must originate from the soul. In this way, we can recognize certain qualities of the soul, but its intrinsic existence remains beyond our direct perception.

The consciousness of the soul, when expressed through the body, is perceivable to us. However, the soul’s original consciousness—called cit (as in Sat-Cit-Ānanda)—is not perceivable because we are currently at the material level of consciousness. In our present state, we cannot rise above this material level.

Whether perceiving through our senses or conceiving through our mind, we are limited by our current level of consciousness. Hence, the soul is acintya—inconceivable by the mind. Yet, through scripture, we can still gain an understanding of it. With purification and realization, we can actually perceive it, as stated in paśyanti jñāna-cakṣuṣaḥ (Bhagavad-gītā 15.10)—one can see with the eyes of knowledge. In 15.11, Kṛṣṇa further says, yatanto yoginaś cainaṁ paśyanty ātmany avasthitam—through effort, yogis perceive the soul situated within.

By practicing spiritual life and living at the level of the soul, we will eventually be able to perceive it. Yogis who are properly situated in spiritual life, through purification and elevation of consciousness, gradually come to see the soul. But that occurs at a purified level. In our current state, we cannot perceive it—it is acintya. Still, through scripture, we can understand it. This is known as jñāna-cakṣuṣaḥ—knowledge not derived from personal inference but received from scripture.

Of course, there have been individuals like Socrates who understood the soul—at least in terms of it being the locus of their identity. This understanding made Socrates fearless in the face of death. However, he was an exceptionally insightful person, and even in his time, very few people—including his own students—fully grasped the concept of the soul. Moreover, his knowledge of the soul was partial, as he could not establish its connection with the Supreme Soul.

Fully understanding the soul is not possible, but understanding it enough to pursue the path of realization is attainable—through logical inference and, even more so, through scriptural guidance and revelation.

If the soul is so difficult to perceive and conceive, one may wonder—what is the point of thinking about it, trying to understand it, or seeking to realize it? The answer is that the soul is who we are. Without understanding ourselves, how can we hope to find true happiness?

We need to realize our spiritual identity, for in doing so, we experience spiritual happiness. Happiness (ānanda) is intrinsic to our spiritual nature as sat-cit-ānanda—eternal, conscious, and blissful beings. When we at least intellectually grasp that, as souls, we are eternal and blissful, it inspires us to pursue the path of self-realization.

We cannot realize the soul immediately, and patience on the path of comprehending and experiencing the soul is both recommended and essential. This patience is implicitly enjoined in the scriptural description of the soul as acintya—inconceivable.

But if the soul is acintya, why should we engage in chintan—contemplation—about it? Why try to understand something that is beyond conception? Because that contemplation is the pathway to real happiness.

The soul’s inconceivability is not meant to dishearten us on the spiritual path. Rather, it should enlighten us with a sense of adventure and mystery. How wonderful it is to realize that we are not temporary bodies destined for death, but eternal souls meant for everlasting love and happiness! This realization should fill us with enthusiasm: I want to realize this truth!

The acintya nature of the soul should not instill pessimism but rather infuse our spiritual quest with dynamism, excitement, and zeal—propelling us forward on the path of self-realization.

avikāryo ’yam ucyate: Vikāra means transformation; hence, avikāryo ’yam means that the soul does not undergo any transformations. Matter, on the other hand, is subject to change—everything material undergoes transformations.

If we observe matter, we see that it is created, exists for some time, and is eventually destroyed. However, when matter is ensouled—that is, when a soul is present within it—it behaves differently. Unconscious matter simply follows the cycle of creation, existence, and destruction. But in the case of conscious matter, it is not the matter itself that is conscious; rather, the soul is expressing its consciousness to the matter.

Unlike ordinary matter, the body does not undergo just three changes but six. It is created, it grows, and it maintains itself. For instance, when a table is created, it does not grow, but when parents conceive a child, the child grows. Similarly, an inanimate object like a metal bar, if cut, does not heal itself, but if a hand is cut, it clots and heals. This indicates a built-in mechanism for self-maintenance.

Then there is reproduction. A he-robot and a she-robot do not produce a baby robot, but a male and a female human being can produce children. After reproduction, there is deterioration, followed by destruction.

When the soul is present in matter, that matter undergoes additional changes—it grows, maintains itself, and reproduces. However, although the soul facilitates these changes in matter, the soul itself remains unaffected by them. The soul is avikārya—unchanging.

In the context of Arjuna’s situation, this means that the souls of Bhīṣma and Droṇa will not be destroyed—they will not even be affected. Their souls will remain the same, and they will attain their next destination, receiving a new body and continuing their journey.

Hence, Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna: By understanding the invisibility, incomprehensibility, and immutability of the soul—avyakto ’yam (invisible), acintyo ’yam (inconceivable), and avikāryo ’yam (immutable)—you should not lament. The real person, the soul, is not affected by any of the changes over which you grieve. In reality, there is nothing worthy of lamentation. Therefore, O Arjuna, do not lament.

Thank you.