Bhagavad Gita Chapter 1, Verse 1: Meaning and Special Explanation

Sloka (Verse):

धृतराष्ट्र उवाच ।
धर्मक्षेत्रे कुरुक्षेत्रे समवेता युयुत्सवः ।
मामकाः पाण्डवाश्चैव किमकुर्वत सञ्जय ॥१॥

Dhṛtarāṣṭra uvāca ।
Dharma-kṣetre kuru-kṣetre samavetā yuyutsavaḥ ।
Māmakāḥ pāṇḍavāś caiva kim akurvata sañjaya ॥1॥

Word-by-Word Meaning:

dhṛtarāṣṭraḥ — King Dhritarashtra
uvāca — said
dharma-kṣetre — in the place of pilgrimage, in the field of righteousness
kuru-kṣetre — in the place named Kurukshetra
samavetāḥ — assembled
yuyutsavaḥ — desiring to fight
māmakāḥ — my party, my sons
pāṇḍavāḥ — the sons of Pandu
ca — and
eva — certainly
kim — what
akurvata — did they do
sañjaya — O Sanjaya

Translation:

Dhritarashtra said: O Sanjaya, after my sons and the sons of Pandu assembled in the place of pilgrimage at Kurukshetra, desiring to fight, what did they do?

Purport

This opening verse of the Bhagavad Gita, though appearing simple at first glance, carries profound spiritual significance that extends far beyond a mere question about battlefield arrangements. King Dhritarashtra's inquiry to his secretary Sanjaya reveals not just historical curiosity, but deep psychological and spiritual dimensions that lay the foundation for the entire Gita's teachings.

Dhritarashtra was the blind king of Hastinapura. His physical blindness actually symbolizes a deeper spiritual blindness. Despite being the elder brother of Pandu, he could not become king due to his visual impairment, according to ancient Vedic principles. This created deep-seated frustration and jealousy in his heart. When his younger brother Pandu died, leaving behind five young sons, Dhritarashtra raised them alongside his own hundred sons, the Kauravas. However, his blind attachment to his own children and his desire to see them rule the kingdom completely clouded his judgment.

The word "dharma-kshetra" (field of righteousness) is extremely significant here. Kurukshetra was not an ordinary battlefield but a sacred place of pilgrimage mentioned in the Vedic scriptures. For thousands of years, sages, saints, and even celestial beings performed religious sacrifices and spiritual practices there. The land itself was considered purifying. Dhritarashtra knew this well, and this knowledge deeply troubled him. He understood that in such a holy place, truth and righteousness would naturally be favored. Since his sons had unjustly denied the Pandavas their rightful kingdom and had consistently engaged in treacherous plots against them, Dhritarashtra feared the influence this sacred ground might have on the battle's outcome.

Notice how Dhritarashtra refers to his sons as "mamakah" (my party) and separately mentions "the sons of Pandu." He does not say "our sons" or acknowledge their family unity. This reveals his partisan mentality and his refusal to accept the Pandavas as equally his own, even though he had raised them. This possessive attachment to "my side" versus "their side" represents the consciousness of duality that separates us from spiritual understanding. It shows how material attachment creates division, even within families.

Dhritarashtra's question "what did they do?" appears innocent, but it carries anxiety and doubt. Deep within, he knew his sons were on the side of adharma (unrighteousness). The Pandavas had tried every possible means to avoid war. They had agreed to accept just five villages instead of their rightful half of the kingdom. When even this minimal request was rejected by Duryodhana, who declared he would not give them land enough to place a pin, war became inevitable. Yet Dhritarashtra continued to hope his sons might somehow prevail, despite knowing they represented the wrong cause.

The presence of Lord Krishna on the side of the Pandavas was another source of deep concern for Dhritarashtra. Krishna, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, had offered to join the war without fighting, serving merely as Arjuna's chariot driver. This seemingly humble role actually represented the greatest power, because wherever Krishna is present, victory and righteousness must follow. Dhritarashtra understood this principle but was too attached to his sons to accept its implications.

Sanjaya, to whom this question was addressed, held a unique position. He was the disciple of the great sage Vyasadeva, the compiler of all Vedic literature and the original narrator of the Mahabharata. Through Vyasadeva's blessing, Sanjaya possessed divine vision, enabling him to see and hear everything happening on the distant battlefield while sitting in the palace with the blind king. This supernatural ability was granted precisely so that the profound teachings about to be spoken between Krishna and Arjuna could be witnessed and preserved for humanity's benefit.

The Bhagavad Gita, which begins with this verse, is not merely a philosophical dialogue or a religious scripture belonging to one tradition. It is the direct word of God, spoken by Lord Krishna Himself. Unlike other scriptures that represent the understanding of enlightened souls or prophets about divine truth, the Gita presents the Supreme Lord directly explaining the nature of reality, the purpose of existence, and the path to spiritual perfection. This makes it absolutely authoritative and universally relevant.

Throughout this great scripture, we find comprehensive knowledge about every aspect of existence: the nature of the soul, the material world, God, devotion, action, knowledge, meditation, and liberation. What makes the Gita especially valuable is that it provides practical guidance for people living in the world, facing real challenges and responsibilities. Arjuna was not a monk in a cave but a warrior facing a terrible moral dilemma, and Krishna's teachings address this real-world situation while revealing eternal truths.

The question "what did they do?" ironically introduces teachings about what we should do, how we should live, and what our ultimate purpose is. Dhritarashtra asked about external actions on a battlefield, but the Gita's response addresses the internal battlefield where we all struggle between our higher nature and lower impulses, between duty and desire, between spiritual wisdom and material attachment.

The sacred ground of Kurukshetra represents our own heart, where the battle between good and evil, knowledge and ignorance, selfishness and selflessness constantly wages. Just as that physical place was meant to destroy the forces of unrighteousness and establish dharma, the Gita's teachings are meant to remove the weeds of ignorance from our hearts and allow the flower of Krishna consciousness to bloom.

Dhritarashtra's blind attachment to his sons, despite knowing they were wrong, reflects our own tendency to cling to material desires and relationships even when they lead us away from our spiritual welfare. His question, born from anxiety and partisanship, ironically opens the door to the most liberating and enlightening conversation in human history. Sometimes our very problems and anxieties become the doorway through which divine grace enters our lives.

The Bhagavad Gita teaches that we must approach spiritual knowledge through a genuine chain of teachers and disciples (guru-parampara), just as Arjuna received knowledge directly from Krishna. We cannot properly understand the Gita through our own speculation or by twisting its words to support our preconceived ideas. The mood of a sincere student, ready to hear and accept truth even when it challenges our attachments, is essential.

This first verse thus establishes several crucial foundations: the historical setting, the psychological tensions, the symbolic significance of the location, the supernatural means of communication, and most importantly, the hint that something extraordinary is about to unfold. What begins as a blind king's anxious question about a family war will transform into humanity's most treasured spiritual heritage, offering light to all who, like Dhritarashtra, find themselves in darkness, seeking understanding and direction.

As we study each verse of the Gita with devotion and humility, we gradually realize that Krishna's teachings to Arjuna five thousand years ago on a battlefield in ancient India are directly relevant to our own lives today. The wisdom He shared addresses the eternal questions every human being faces: Who am I? What is my purpose? How should I live? What happens after death? How can I find lasting happiness? The journey through the Gita is a journey from confusion to clarity, from bondage to freedom, from material consciousness to Krishna consciousness.

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Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare।
Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare॥