Chapter 11 · Shloka 31— The Yoga of the Vision of the Universal Form
इस श्लोक का हिंदी अनुवाद पढ़ें →आख्याहि मे को भवानुग्ररूपो नमोऽस्तु ते देववर प्रसीद। विज्ञातुमिच्छामि भवन्तमाद्यं न हि प्रजानामि तव प्रवृत्तिम्॥
Transliteration
ākhyāhi me ko bhavān ugra-rūpo namo ’stu te deva-vara prasīda vijñātum ichchhāmi bhavantam ādyaṁ na hi prajānāmi tava pravṛittim
Word-by-word meaning
- ākhyāhi
- — tell
- me
- — me
- kaḥ
- — who
- bhavān
- — you
- ugra-rūpaḥ
- — fierce form
- namaḥ astu
- — I bow
- te
- — to you
- deva-vara
- — God of gods
- prasīda
- — be merciful
- vijñātum
- — to know
- ichchhāmi
- — I wish
- bhavantam
- — you
- ādyam
- — the primeval
- na
- — not
- hi
- — because
- prajānāmi
- — comprehend
- tava
- — your
- pravṛittim
- — workings
Meaning
Tell me, who you are, so fierce of form. I offer my salutations to you, O God Supreme; have mercy on me. I desire to know you, the original Being. I do not indeed know your workings.
Commentary
"Akhyahi me ko bhavan ugra-rupo namo 'stu te deva-vara prasida, vijnatum icchami bhavantam adyam na hi prajanami tava pravrttim." — Tell me who You are, of such fierce form. Salutations to You, O best of gods; have mercy! I wish to know You, the primordial One, for I do not understand Your actions. Overwhelmed by the terrible vision, Arjuna asks a direct question and again pleads for grace. 'Akhyahi me ko bhavan ugra-rupah' — tell me (akhyahi) who (kah) You are, of such fierce form (ugra-rupa). 'Namah astu te deva-vara prasida' — salutations (namah) to You, O best of gods (deva-vara); have mercy (prasida)! 'Vijnatum icchami bhavantam adyam' — I wish to know (vijnatum icchami) You, the primordial One (adya). 'Na hi prajanami tava pravrttim' — for I do not understand (na prajanami) Your purpose/action (pravrtti). Shankaracharya notes the honesty and humility of Arjuna's question. Faced with the terrible aspect of the Divine, Arjuna does not pretend to understand. He frankly admits 'na prajanami' — I do not comprehend what You are doing, what Your purpose is. And he asks directly, with reverence and a plea for grace, to understand. This verse models the right response to encountering something overwhelming and incomprehensible: honest admission of not understanding, combined with reverent inquiry and an appeal for grace. Arjuna doesn't fake comprehension; he humbly asks to be told. The insight is about the wisdom of admitting 'I don't understand.' Confronted with something genuinely beyond his grasp, Arjuna doesn't pretend, doesn't construct a false explanation, doesn't fill the gap with confident-sounding guesses. He simply and honestly says: 'I don't understand Your purpose — please tell me.' This is a model of intellectual and spiritual honesty. We often feel pressure to appear as though we understand things we don't, to never admit confusion, to always have an answer. But genuine wisdom includes the humility to say 'I don't understand this' when you genuinely don't. And notice that this honest admission of not-understanding is precisely what opens the door to real understanding: by admitting his confusion and sincerely asking, Arjuna prepares himself to receive Krishna's profound answer (which comes in 11.32). The person who pretends to understand learns nothing further; the person who honestly admits 'I don't get this, please help me understand' opens the door to genuine insight. So don't fake comprehension to protect your ego. The honest, humble 'I don't understand — please help me see' is not a weakness; it's the very doorway through which real understanding enters.
How is Bhagavad Gita 11.31 relevant to modern life?
Confronted with something genuinely beyond his grasp, Arjuna does something quietly wise: he honestly admits 'I don't understand Your purpose — please tell me.' He doesn't pretend, doesn't construct a confident-sounding false explanation, doesn't fill the gap with guesses dressed up as knowledge. He just says, plainly: I don't get this, please help me understand. This is a model of intellectual and spiritual honesty that's genuinely rare and valuable. We constantly feel pressure to appear as though we understand things we don't — to never admit confusion, to always have a take, to project competence and comprehension even when we're lost. But real wisdom includes the humility to say 'I don't understand this' when you genuinely don't. And here's the key part: this honest admission of not-understanding is precisely what opens the door to actual understanding. Notice the sequence — by admitting his confusion and sincerely asking, Arjuna prepares himself to receive Krishna's profound answer (which comes next). The person who pretends to understand learns nothing further; the person who honestly says 'I don't get this, please help me understand' opens the door to genuine insight. This is why the smartest people are often the most willing to say 'I don't know' — it's the precondition for actually learning. So don't fake comprehension to protect your ego. The honest, humble 'I don't understand — please help me see' isn't a weakness or an embarrassment; it's the very doorway through which real understanding enters. Admitting what you don't know is the beginning of actually knowing.
What does Bhagavad Gita 11.31 teach today's generation (Gen Z & millennials)?
Confronted with something genuinely beyond his grasp, Arjuna does something quietly wise: he honestly admits 'I don't understand Your purpose — please tell me.' He doesn't pretend, doesn't construct a confident-sounding fake explanation, doesn't fill the gap with guesses dressed up as knowledge. He just says, plainly: I don't get this, please help me understand. This is a model of intellectual and spiritual honesty that's genuinely rare and valuable. We constantly feel pressure to act like we understand things we don't — to never admit we're confused, to always have a take, to project competence even when we're completely lost. But real wisdom includes the humility to say 'I don't understand this' when you genuinely don't. And here's the decisive part: this honest admission of not-understanding is exactly what opens the door to actual understanding. Notice the sequence — by admitting his confusion and sincerely asking, Arjuna sets himself up to receive Krishna's profound answer (coming next). The person who fakes understanding learns nothing more; the person who honestly says 'I don't get this, please help me understand' opens the door to genuine insight. This is why the smartest people are often the most willing to say 'I don't know' — it's the precondition for actually learning. So don't fake comprehension just to protect your ego. The honest, humble 'I don't understand — please help me see' isn't a weakness or an L; it's the very doorway real understanding enters through. Admitting what you don't know is the beginning of actually knowing.
What does Bhagavad Gita 11.31 mean explained simply for kids?
Arjuna does something really honest and smart! Faced with the amazing but confusing cosmic form, he doesn't pretend to understand it. Instead he says: 'Please tell me who You really are! I bow to You — have mercy! I want to understand You, because honestly, I don't understand what You're doing!' He just admits the truth: 'I don't understand this — please help me!' This teaches us something wonderful: it's totally okay — and actually really smart — to say 'I don't understand this!' We sometimes feel like we have to pretend we know everything, even when we're confused. But the wisest thing is to honestly admit when you don't understand and ask for help! And here's the cool part: because Arjuna honestly asked, Krishna is about to explain everything to him! When you pretend to understand, you never learn more. But when you honestly say 'I don't get this, please help me understand' — that's exactly when you start to truly learn! So never be embarrassed to say 'I don't understand.' It's the first step to understanding!
Related shlokas
Chapter context
Granted divine sight, Arjuna beholds Krishna's overwhelming universal form (Vishvarupa) containing all worlds, gods and time itself. Awestruck and terrified, he prays for the gentle four-armed form to return.
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