Verse 7.14

Verse 7.14: “For, this mine Guna-constituted Cosmic-Illusion is hard to overcome. Only those that seek refuge in Me alone, are able to cross this Cosmic-Illusion. (68)

Commentary called Jnaneshwari by Jnaneshwar:

Now, Oh Dhananjaya, how to conquer this Maya to attain the realization of the vision that makes you one with the essence of My Eternal Being is the question. From the highlands of the Most High, the river Maya starts as a stream of the weak force; in this stream the gross elements are a small bubble. Then, in course of time, it rushes on with an ever-increasing speed in the cosmic stream of the created things and wildly comes down, overflowing the two high banks in the form of action and quiescence. The Maya then flooded with the downpour of the manifold things—(Guna-triad, the three constituent aspects—Sattva, Rajas and Tamas), and its over-rolling mass of water in the form of delusive awareness, sweeps away as it were, the human habitations in the form of restraint of mind and restraint of senses. There are then formed into it, whirlpools in the form of hatred, and its stream gets obstructed by bends in the form of jealousy, while formidable fish in the form of haughtiness keep on basking in it.

There are many turnings and tangles in it in the form of the irresistible ties of family life, while dirt and fallen leaves and dry blades in the form of pleasure and pain, keep on floating over the flow of waters of actions and inactions. Waves and turnings of passions and desires dash against the islands of enjoyment of senseobjects, formed in the bed of this river, while bunches of foam of beings appear to get obstructed there. There appear ebullitions arising out of the three-fold conceit (of learning, riches and power) consequent on the mad frolicks played by Ego-spirit in this river, and there also rush out waves of sense-objects. In this river there are created spots of deep water (ḍāhe) in the form of cycles of births and deaths, as the result of floods of (Sun) rise and (Sun) set and from these emerge and burst bubbles of universe constituted of the five gross elements. Fish in the form of blind passions cut out and swallow bits of flesh of courage and then these fish keep on whirling round and round along the eddying ignorance.

The hope of a heavenly paradise is but the furious roar of this eternal stream of Maya with its water made muddy by mad frenzy and flowing unto the marsh of quagmire of rituals-actions of Rajas quality. There are diverse and forcible currents of the Tamas quality in this river, while the still flow of the Sattva quality proves too deep to cross over to the other side (of the river). Such is verily the Maya river. To ferry over it is a task hard indeed. The rushing torrents of cycles of births and deaths in this river make the forts in the Satyaloka to sink, and the boulders in the form of cosmic globes to roll over on their sides. The great waters of Maya rush on with endless energy, and the flood does not show signs of ebbing yet. Who could then swim across the flood of the Maya river? And the strangest mystery of this river is this: the very boats shaped to cross over this Maya river turn out to be the cause of sinking. Hear, how this comes about: some who plunge into this flood, relying on the powerful arms of self-confidence, are soon lost forever; others are swallowed up by self-conceit in the deep waters of knowledge; a few others using the link of pompions (sāṃgāḍe) in the form of Vedic Law tied to the stone of Ego-sense, are swallowed up entirely by the fish of arrogance.

Some take their stand on their youth and give themselves up to lust and passion, with the result that they are devoured by alligators in the form of sense-pleasures, and moreover they are enmeshed in the tangles of dotage in the wave of old age in that river. Then dashing against the rocks of worldly sorrows, and being suffocated in the whirlpools of passion, wherever they try to raise their hands the vultures of calamities feed on them. Wallowing in the quagmire of grief, they are stuck up and lost in the sands of death. Creatures steeped in lust are lost for ever; some others use performance of sacrifices as a float, tying it under their waist and they are shut up in the dark chambers of the Pleasures of Paradise: some others rely on the arms in the form of actions with the object of securing salvation, but they are tossed into the whirlpool of conflicting duties.

The Maya flood is thus a stream wherein renunciation is no ferry and wisdom is no rope to cross over. ‘Yoga’ is perhaps the path, but it is very rarely used. Crossing this great stream Maya, to us mortals, looks like this. Mortals can see the other bank of the river Maya,—if a patient is cured without a regimen, or if a saint can control the thoughts of a crook, or if a voluptuary in the lap of fortune can forsake the prospect of enjoyment, or if a thief can rush boldly into an open meeting, or if a fish swallows the bait; or (if it be possible) for a timid person to turn back and lay low a ghost, or for a young deer to break through the snare of a hunter, or for an ant to transcend the mountain Meru. Therefore, Oh Son of Pandu, just as for a voluptuous man it is hard to tame and subdue his passion for woman, even so the river of Maya cannot be forded by a living being.

Only those that worship with unswerving devotion can with ease ford this river; he (such a one) is saved even the task of crossing over, since the flood of Maya is all dried up on this side of existence. One who is lucky to get the boatman in the form of a Master-guide, and who has secured a strong waist-belt in the form of illumination and experience, and who has secured a raft in the form of the realisation of Self, and who has thrown away the night-mare of self-conceit, and who has escaped (from) the gale of fancy, and who has turned round the strong eddies of attachment for sense-objects, and who has reached landings of unions and joined self-realisation, and who has vigorously crossed over to the opposite bank of quiescence—such a one using vigorously his arms in the form of renunciation, and floating on the strength of staunch faith—“I am myself Supreme Brahman”—will reach at last without effort the other side of Liberation. Those that worship Me in this way cross over My Maya. But such devotees are very rare and are not to be met with in numbers.