When the senses come in contact with a desired object, there is sensation of pleasure:
sukha anuśayī rāgaḥ (II.7). It is the sensation of pleasure in one’s contact with a
desirable object that compels one to repeat this contact again and again, because
there will be an endless asking for pleasure. We will never be satisfied with an
amount of pleasure in a certain given magnitude. What is asked for is an infinitude of
magnitude; but inasmuch as the instruments employed are finite, infinite pleasure is
not possible. We cannot have a whole ocean contained in a little cup or a tumbler,
because its capacity is very little. Can we use a small tumbler to carry the whole
ocean—the Pacific or the Atlantic? That is not possible. But our wish is to carry it.
What is the good of this wish when it cannot be fulfilled due to the wrong means that
we employed? The instrument is very feeble in comparison with the object that is in
our mind.
Therefore, the pleasures always remain unsatisfied. Inasmuch as what we ask for is
an infinitude of pleasure, we cannot be satisfied with a little of it. Hence there is an
urge to repeat the contact of the mind and senses with the object, endlessly.
Throughout life we can go on having these contacts; and yet, there can be no end to
it. So, what happens? These peculiar types of tendencies with which we are born get
exhausted, get worn out. The senses also become tired because of repeated activity;
then, their momentum ceases. The momentum of these tendencies ceases on account
of exhaustion and inability to fulfil themselves to the extent they require from within,
and also because the tendencies with which we are born are finite—they are only
certain aspects of the possibilities of other types of contact we can have.
What happens is these tendencies have to come to an end one day or the other by
exhaustion of momentum, and then the organisation dwindles; that is called the
death of the body. If all the personnel in a government disintegrate, the government
itself does not exist. It ceases to be because the constituents have separated, and so
the complex diminishes in quantity until it becomes a zero. The forces which brought
together the physical atoms of matter into the formation of a body withdraw
themselves to their sources, and the complex structure of the body disintegrates
automatically. The particles of matter go to their sources. This is what is called
death.
But death is not the end of the matter; there will be rebirth because the desires have
not been fulfilled. For various reasons, as I mentioned, it was not possible for the
mind to satisfy itself fully with its activity, so it experiments with a new set of
circumstances; and births repeatedly coming, one after the other, are the different
types of experiments that the mind performs to see if it can get what it wants. It fails
every time, but it is never tired: “If this fails today, I shall work in another manner
tomorrow.” So, another birth is taken.
Thus, the repeated cycle of birth and death continues endlessly, unbroken, and we
cannot know where it begins and where it ends. This cycle is called the samsara
chakra, the wheel of birth and death. All this trouble has arisen on account of the
original mistake committed—namely, the assertion of individuality as a principle,
independent by itself, whose erroneous presence compels it to come in contact with
other individuals, objects, etc. Unfortunately for it, it has the temptation of enjoying
pleasure in contact. If that had not been there, perhaps it would have caught the
lesson immediately at the very first contact itself, but the memory of a previous