Gita 05.14 – The more we become detached, the more we master the body

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na kartṛtvaṁ na karmāṇi
lokasya sṛjati prabhuḥ
na karma-phala-saṁyogaṁ
svabhāvas tu pravartate (Bg 5.14)

Word-for-word:
na — never; kartṛtvam — proprietorship; na — nor; karmāṇi — activities; lokasya — of the people; sṛjati — creates; prabhuḥ — the master of the city of the body; na — nor; karma-phala — with the results of activities; saṁyogam — connection; svabhāvaḥ — the modes of material nature; tu — but; pravartate — act.

Translation:
The embodied spirit, master of the city of his body, does not create activities, nor does he induce people to act, nor does he create the fruits of action. All this is enacted by the modes of material nature.

Explanation:
na kartṛtvaṁ na karmāṇi: Neither having a proprietorship attitude nor considering oneself the doer of activities.
lokasya sṛjati prabhuḥ: Nor does one make others act. Here, Kṛṣṇa uses the word ‘prabhuḥ’ to refer to the soul.
na karma-phala-saṁyogaṁ: Nor is there any contact with the fruits of work.
svabhāvas tu pravartate: It is nature (one’s modes of material nature) that acts.

Kṛṣṇa says that the soul, which is situated in the body—the city of nine gates, as mentioned in the previous verse—neither acts nor makes others act. The actions that take place are carried out by material nature: svabhāvas tu pravartate.

Here, Kṛṣṇa introduces the word ‘svabhāva.’ The term ‘bhāva’ means emotions, and ‘svabhāva’ refers to one’s own inherent emotion. The word ‘bhāva’ can also mean nature, and there is a correlation between the two meanings. According to our nature, we develop a particular set of emotions, and in turn, our emotions shape our nature. Later, in the eighth chapter, Kṛṣṇa will say, sadā tad-bhāva-bhāvitaḥ—according to the emotion one cultivates, one will acquire a corresponding nature.

Hence, svabhāva means one’s own emotion, one’s own nature. For example, there is kṣatriya-svabhāva and brāhmaṇa-svabhāva—different svabhāvas according to the varṇas. When people act according to their svabhāva, they can do so with relative ease and competence. A brāhmaṇa, for instance, can perform brāhmaṇical duties both comfortably and effectively because that is his natural svabhāva.

Kṛṣṇa thus tells Arjuna that when he fights, he should understand that it is his nature acting—svabhāvas tu pravartate. As a kṣatriya, his duty is to fight; therefore, he should engage in battle, knowing that it is his svabhāva at work, and he should not think of himself as the doer—na kartṛtvaṁ na karmāṇi. He should not think, “I am the doer,” nor that Kṛṣṇa is making him act, nor that he is making others act—na karmāṇi lokasya sṛjati prabhuḥ. The word ‘sṛjati’ means to create or to impel; it is not that one independently causes others to act.

The word ‘prabhu’ is generally used respectfully to address other devotees as “master.” Kṛṣṇadāsa Kavirāja Gosvāmī, in the Caitanya-caritāmṛta, consistently uses the word ‘prabhu’ to refer to Caitanya Mahāprabhu. Although he occasionally uses the title Mahāprabhu, his standard reference remains ‘prabhu.’

Is the soul controlled by the body, or is it in control of the body? In the conditioned stage, the soul is indeed controlled by the body. Its spiritual awareness becomes covered, and it acts merely to satisfy material desires and demands. Thus, it comes under the spell of the body and works to fulfill the body’s cravings. A soul acting in this way is unfortunate, illusioned, and cannot truly be called prabhu.

Still, in one sense the soul is always īśvara, because it is conscious, whereas the body is not. The soul is certainly not Parameśvara, the supreme controller, yet Kṛṣṇa later uses the word īśvara for the soul in the fifteenth chapter, since the soul does exercise some control over the body—though never absolute control.

For instance, if humans wish to fly in the sky, we cannot fly like birds. If I want to develop a sweet singing voice, I cannot simply acquire it at will. There are certain things about the body we cannot change, some things we can gradually influence, and others we can change more directly. The point is that we do not have complete control over the body—we cannot make it do whatever we desire—but we certainly do have some degree of control, and it is important to use that control properly.

To the extent that we give in to bodily desires, to that extent we lose mastery over the body. Each time we eat impulsively, giving in to untimely urges between meals, the body’s control over us increases. The next time that urge arises, it comes back stronger, pulls harder, and resisting it feels more distressing and painful. Conversely, by resisting bodily urges, we reduce the body’s grip on us and increase our own control over it.

We do not necessarily have to envision an adversarial relationship between ourselves and the body. Our aim is to use the body in Kṛṣṇa’s service, and in that sense, the body is a tool. Just as a woodcutter does not quarrel with his axe or consider it an enemy, we need not see the body as opposed to us.

At the same time, however, the body can be compared to a chariot, as described in the chariot-body metaphor. The chariot has horses, and if left unchecked, the horses may run off in their own willful directions. That must be avoided, and for this, the horses need to be kept under control.

Likewise, we need not see the body as being in opposition to us, but if we fail to discipline it, the body begins to take control. Then, like restless horses dragging a warrior in whichever direction they please, the body will lead us astray. In this way, we risk becoming lost or distracted. If we do not exercise control, the body will pursue its own directions and carry us along, diverting us from both our spiritual goals and even our long-term material purposes.

Instead of progressing meaningfully, we end up wasting valuable time in pandering to petty bodily urges—eating, sleeping, mating, or endlessly seeking comfort. While certain bodily necessities must be met, we need not indulge every desire and demand of the body.

To the extent the soul is detached, to that extent we become prabhu—master of the body. We then provide for the body’s needs according to a thoughtful plan: setting specific times for eating, sleeping, and engaging in activities. In this way, the body can be used as an efficient vehicle for ātma-śuddhaye—for our purification and for our service to Kṛṣṇa.

We can see three different levels in which the soul is prabhu.

First, ontologically, the soul has consciousness while the body does not; therefore, the soul is superior.

Second, because the soul possesses consciousness, it has some degree of control over bodily functions. While it is true that the body itself has no consciousness, still it operates like a machine. A machine has a program, and that program functions according to the design of the machine.

Similarly, there are certain aspects of the body that we cannot change, and others that we can adjust or improve. Just as on a Mac computer one cannot run Windows programs, there are certain inherent limitations. Yet, within that basic limitation, we can still run various programs.

In this sense, svabhāva can be compared to the basic operating system—it cannot be changed—but within that svabhāva we can still run different scripts. A kṣatriya has a svabhāva of heroism, chivalry, eagerness to fight, and strength. This disposition can be engaged according to dharma, or, if one succumbs to lower tendencies, it may be misused for adharma.

Thus, the second level of control we possess lies in recognizing that while the body is a mechanism that functions in specific ways, we still have the choice of directing that mechanism toward a higher or a lower purpose.

The third level is that, to the extent we control the bodily urges, to that extent our mastery over the body increases. Kṛṣṇa explains that when one cultivates such detachment, one can truly become master of the body—understanding that one is neither the doer of actions nor the cause of others’ actions.

This is all governed by svabhāva. If one avoids emotional entanglement in the workings of svabhāva, then one also remains free from karmic entanglement. What ultimately drives a person to act is svabhāva.

In this way, Kṛṣṇa continues His in-depth philosophical analysis of the nature of action, showing Arjuna how detachment is the key to protection from reaction.

Thank you.