“A
Modern
Arjuna”



O
Krishna,

I
am
a
modern
Arjuna,


an
American
college
student,

simply
studying
religion.

I
don’t
know
the
land
of
Kurukshetra,


and
my
battles
are
not
for
kingship.

I
ride
in
buses,
not
chariots,
as
I
approach
my
university,


my
mind
a
battleground
of
ideas.


“Proof”
an
arrow
to
the
heart,
old
truths
die
quickly,


or
fight
valiantly
with
swords
of
logic.

Professors
shoot
new
ideas
into
a
willing
martyr,

yet
such
a
violent
opening
of
mind
sheds
bloody
drops
of
ignorance.


Every
day
is
a
new
fight
with
my
porous
armor,
curiosity,
a
poor
shield.

This
battle
I
intend
to
lose,
as
growing
requires
newness.

Ignorance,
if
not
a
casualty
of
education,
clings
to
me,


haunting
me
and
ever‐threatening
defeat.

The
worthy
cause
of
new
knowledge
is
not
easy
to
defend.


The
comforting
warmth
of
familiar
notions
quickly
fades,


And
the
coldness
of
unfamiliar
realities
sinks
in.

It
is
not
the
newness
that
is
frightening,
but
the
emptiness,


the
absence
of
the
familiar,
the
death
of
old
ideas,
my
compatriots.

In
this
battle,
I
am
an
army
of
one,


against
an
army
of
one,
my
old
self.

It
is
my
duty
to
persevere
in
this
expedition
for
understanding,

But
I
stand
paralyzed
before
my
books


as
before
armies
of
disagreement.

My
mind
is
exhausted
from
the
fighting,
the
competition,

The
different
claims
to
the
kingship
of
reality.

Searching
for
the
Truth,
the
one
true
king,

The
preparations
for
war
are
slowly
mounting.



O
Govinda,

I
speak
in
American
idioms,
of
a
Christian
God.

I
hear
of
the
certainties
of
hell
for
idolaters,

The
narrow
road
to
heaven,

The
infallibility
of
revealed
scripture,

And
the
legitimacy
of
Western
tradition.

Your
Sanskrit
feels
impenetrable,


and
translations
bear
wounds
from
other
authors.

I
have
stepped
upon
new
sacred
ground,
enemy
territory.

Your
words
echo
like
the
God
of
Mount
Sinai
and
of
the
cave
called
Hira.

Your
footsteps
caress
the
trembling
earth,







Like
those
that
skimmed
the
surface
of
the
Galilee.

As
I
stumble
upon
Your
ancient
words,
young
in
my
ears,


They
awaken
new
questions,


New
rivals
take
their
place
in
the
battlefield
of
my
mind.

You
say
You
are
God,
so,
what
of
Jesus?


What
of
the
revelations
to
Muhammad?
Are
the
God,
Allah?

“All
paths
lead
to
You,”1
You
say,
that

“those
who
worship
other
gods
with
faith
and
devotion
also
worship
[You,]


even
if
they
do
not
observe
the
usual
forms.”2

Not
only
are
You
God,
but
You
are
all
that
exists.

You
frame
reality
in
a
completely
different
manner,

My
eyes
strain
to
see
Your
way,
to
see
You.

The
one
behind
the
many,
You
are
not
separate,

Nearer
than
the
jugular
vein,
the
Qur’an
proclaims,3

You
fill
heaven
and
earth,
You
told
Jeremiah.4

Is
all
existence
illusion
and
delusion?

Is
all
I
have
ever
known
to
be
Creation,
truly
only
a
trap
of
Maya?

In
pursuit
of
knowing
You,
I
fall
short,

A
battle
among
Your
revelations
rages
in
my
mind.



O
Madhava,
guide
me
and
bring
me
peace.

On
the
brink
of
battle,
You
comforted
Arjuna,

You
showed
him
Your
true
self.

Have
You
come
only
once
for
this
Kali
Yuga

And
then
left
me
with
Your
words
of
wisdom

concerning
another
time,
another
place?



Come
again
and
fulfill
Your
promise,
O
Hari,

“whenever
dharma
declines
and
the
purpose
of
life
is
forgotten,


[You]
manifest
[Your]self
on
earth.”5

I
ask
for
an
update,
O
Ishvara,

For
I
ask
new
questions
in
a
new
dark
age.

In
the
Kali
Yuga
of
my
own
short
life,

Will
You
lift
me
out
of
ignorance,
O
Giridhar?





























































1

Bhagavad
Gita
4:11
(Easwaran,
Eknath.
The
Bhagavad
Gita.
Tomales,
CA:
Nilgiri
Press,
2007.)


2

Bhagavad
Gita
9:23


3

Qur’an
50:16

4

Jeremiah
23:24
(NIV)

5

Bhagavad
Gita
4:7