What Bhagavad Gita can teach you about "Sholay"

We often get the impression that religion and reason are like water and oil. Adhering to a religion seems to require abandoning of logic and being rational presupposes an absence of faith. Religious folk belittle atheists as "non-believers" and rational thinkers mock theists as "people with blind faith". But when we read through the Bhagavad Gita, we learn that faith and logic can co-exist and in fact, one without the other creates a problem.

"Doubt" is a big word for both atheists and theists. Rational thinkers hail doubt as a symbol of curiosity and earnestness. Believers denounce doubt as a symbol of weakness and arrogance. Perhaps the problem lies in the word itself rather than the two warring factions. Doubt has broadly three shades of meaning - "uncertainty", "hesitation" and "suspicion". When we consider doubt as "uncertainty", it refers to a lack of sufficient information or a lack of understanding. doubt as "hesitation" refers to a lack of confidence. Doubt as "suspicion" refers to a lack of trust. Rational thinkers are stuck to the first shade of meaning (uncertainty) and believers are stuck to the other two (hesitation and suspicion).

In the Gita, three words are used to denote doubt: samsaya (doubt, hesitation, indecision, confusion, lacking in resolve), dvaidha (doubt, dispute, uncertainty, dichotomy, dilemma), and sandeha (doubt, ambiguity, suspicion, risk, danger). All these words have a negative connotation in the Gita. They are said to come in the way of progress. This is why Krishna says, "A person who is... Indecisive gets destroyed. One who remains hesitant and confused finds no happiness..." (4.40 - i.e. Chapter 4, Verse 40). Then he says: "With the sword of wisdom, cut through this doubt born of ignorance residing in your heart..." (4.42).

The Gita uses the word prasna (question, inquiry, investigation, request) to denote the "uncertainty" shade of meaning. In a telling verse (4.34), Krishna sums up the ancient learning methodology:

Learn the knowledge (that you seek) from those who have realised the truth. Approach them with a spirit of sincere enquiry and serve them with humility. They will impart that knowledge to you.

Inquiry is fundamental to the ancient Indian way of thinking. Without asking questions and "without reasoning, a human being is doomed," says Krishna (2.63). Later he says that those who are deluded and lethargic cling to an insignificant pursuit without exercising their power of reasoning (18.22).

A fascinating verse, in the middle of the climax, shows us that Krishna truly walks his talk. In 18.63, he tells Arjun: "I have taught you the wisdom... Reflect deeply on these teachings and then do as you please". After all that instruction, Krishna - the god - tells Arjun - the human - that there is no imposition of any kind. Arjun is free to decide for himself what should be the next step.

Doubt, in the form of hesitation, self-doubt, and suspicion, proves to be detrimental to growth. Doubt, in the form of uncertainty, inquiry, and curiosity leads us to a place of higher learning. Where do faith and logic fit in this equation?

In 2011, I had the great opportunity to meet with professor Roddam Narasimha, who is not only the country's leading aerospace scientist but also an accomplished Sanskrit scholar. I remember asking him, "How do you, as a man of science and a student of the sastras, approach an ancient text?" He thought for a moment and said, "I am critical of the text but I am also compassionate to the text". That statement has forever remained with me. It has become my talisman. I use it whenever I read a text or analyse a piece.

It's quite straightforward what he meant by "critical" but what of "compassionate"? Why should one be compassionate to a text or an argument or a school of thought? A basic degree of compassion and empathy gives us an insight into the evolution of the idea. It prevents us from confirmation bias. Sometimes it even helps retain objectivity. However, if we had only compassion and lacked criticality, we would not ask further questions and thus miss out on the learning that comes from enquiry and analysis.

Let's say we're watching Sholay and Jai is about to die on Veeru's lap. If we're uber-critical, we would say: "This is just Amitabh Bachchan playing a role. That is not real blood. Ramesh Sippy is probably standing nearby giving instructions. Dharmendra is not really sad. He's just pretending". If we're uber-compassionate, we would say: "Oh my god! Jai is going to die. Gabbar Singh is evil. Veeru should kill him. The police in this country are so incompetent. How could they let Gabbar escape from prison?" In both cases, we can't really enjoy the movie. We need the criticality to know that it's just a movie but we need the compassion to be moved by it.

Criticality needs logic while compassion (in this context) needs faith. How can the two co-exist? This is possible only by the power of reason, which includes both logic and faith. Using the framework of logic, one cannot explain faith and within the framework of faith, one cannot explain logic. Reason includes both and can thus explain them with reference to the context. To accept or reject a text or an argument, we have to first consider it with sincerity. This requires a temporary suspension of judgment, which is driven by an inherent faith in the author (for the time being). Having considered it with compassion, we can critically analyse and then reject it if we find it wanting. And even this rejection teaches us something valuable. Further, this is why empty compassion does not lead us to higher learning.

Thus, the Bhagavad Gita, by emphasising inquiry and reason over doubt and dismay, shows us a path that can guide us in pursuit of both the spiritual and the secular.

(All translations of Bhagavad Gita verses are taken from The New Bhagavad Gita by Koti Sreekrishna and Hari Ravikumar. Mason: W.I.S.E. Words, 2011)