Swami Brahmeshananda is a monk of the Ramakrishna Order and a former Editor of The Vedanta Kesari. He is at present the Minister-in-charge of the Ramakrishna Vedanta Society, Lusaka.

The Katha Upanishad opens with a beautiful story. Nachiketa, a boy of twelve, having immense faith in himself and the truths of the scriptures, is cursed to death by his father, for virtually no fault of his. He had only protested, that too indirectly and mildly, against the insincerity of his father's making a great sacrifice, and that also for his father's own good. The boy was taken aback, but he travelled, as the story goes, all the way to the Abode of Death, only to find the God of Death not at home--very unusual indeed! He probably was on tour, or had got stranded at some place, requiring his actual presence to supervise the work of his emissaries. When finally Yama, the Lord of death, returned after three days, it was his turn to be embarrassed at the unusual situation--a brilliant, cultured, educated and yet humble, well-behaved, calm and unperturbed young lad of twelve sitting without food and drink for three days at his doorstep! None of his household, if at all there was one, had even enquired of the boy! His advisers were quick to whisper in the ear of the perturbed Yama to do something to please the boy immediately, for he was capable of bringing doom on him otherwise. He was not an ordinary boy, they said. Normally none wants to come to Yama's abode and has to be dragged against their wishes, but this boy had come his own to keep the word of his father, however unpleasant and unjustified it might be. Yama forthwith offered three boons in lieu of the three hungry nights. The first two boons were easily asked and granted. But as the third boon, Nachiketa wanted to know 'What happens after death?' This seemed to take the wind out of the fierce Yama's sails. He said, 'You are a mere baby, what would you understand of something which even gods are not able to comprehend?' He offered as alternatives wealth, long life, heavenly pleasures, etc. Nachiketa however was not tempted and curtly refused saying, 'Let them remain with you.' Highly pleased, Yama now proceeded to impart to him the secret of life and death, in one of the most poetic of Upanishads. Here we find a gem of a question placed in a beautiful casket of a parable.

The question with which Mundaka Upanishad opens is equally beautiful, but it lacks the attractive setting of the Katha Upanishad. Saunaka, a virtuous householder, renowned for his charitable deeds, reverently approaches the venerable teacher of traditional knowledge, Angiras, and observing the prescribed method, asks the question, 'What is that, knowing which everything can be known?' He is not offered tempting alternatives to give up the question. The sage Angiras forthwith proceeds to impart to him the highest knowledge.

The very title of Kenopanishad is due to its very first word Kena, i.e., by whom? Remarkable questions about the Being, agency, prompter of our senses, mind and prana are raised in the very first verse of this Upanishad: 'Prompted by whom does the mind act, who initially engaged the vital forces into activity; goaded by whom does one speak? Who is the divine being who activates the eye and the ear?'

We have eyes, ears, other sense organs, as well as the vital force, prana, and the mind. But do we ever enquire about their controller? No. We take their existence and activity for granted. But the Upanishadic sage wants to know the secret of the Being behind them and embarks upon an enquiry.

If Kenopanishad is named by the enquiry 'By Whom?' the very title of Prashnopanishad indicates that it deals with questions--prashna. Five virtuous householders ask one question each, to the sage Pippalada, and the Upanishad contains the answers to these questions. Although these five questions appear different and mundane, the ultimate purpose of this enquiry also is to know the ultimate Reality--Brahman, the Supreme Spirit, Paramatman. Swetaswatara Upanishad also begins with questions: Is Brahman the ultimate cause of creation? From where are we born? How do we live? In whom do we remain rooted? How do we experience happiness and misery?

Coming down from the Upanishads to the Puranas, we again find a series of questions asked by different people to various teachers. Arjuna, caught in a dilemma whether to fight or not, asks Sri Krishna: 'Being overcome by a sense of helplessness, my mind is perplexed as to what my duty is. Hence I beseech you to tell me definitely what is good for me who has taken refuge in you.'

Arjuna, in the course of the dialogue during the preaching of the Gita, asks many questions, some of which are simple curiosities arising out of the teaching of Sri Krishna, while others are profound philosophical enquiries. Srimad Bhagavata also begins with a series of questions asked by sages to Shuka.

Coming down from Upanishads and Puranas to history, we find vital questions being asked by enquiring aspirants, starting from the Buddha, to Master Mahasaya. Buddha's questions were about the cause of suffering and their remedy. Sri Ramakrishna too posed a fundamental question about the nature of Reality when he enquired of the Divine Mother, 'Mother, are you merely a clay image (mrinmayi) or conscious (chinmayi)? You revealed your divine nature to saints like Ramprasad and Kamalakanta; why don't you reveal It to me?'

Almost the same question, Swami Vivekananda, as young Narendranath, later asks Sri Ramakrishna, though framed in different words: 'Sir, have you seen God?' What he actually wants to know is whether there is something called God, and whether He can be realized--a fundamental enquiry about the nature of the Ultimate Reality.

And then Master Mahasaya asks Sri Ramakrishna a series of four profound questions: How may we fix our minds on God? How ought we to live in the world? Is it possible to see God? Under what conditions does one see God?

Sri Ramakrishna was asked at more than one occasion similar questions by different people at different times.

II

Enquiry is the key to knowledge, and knowledge leads to freedom and bliss. The whole mass of human knowledge is the result of various questions raised by the human mind in various fields of knowledge through ages. Hence we find that the Upanishads are replete with questions.

The idea everywhere is that unsolicited advice is never welcome; it will never be received. As long as Arjuna went on describing the ill effects of war and just refused to fight, Sri Krishna only chided him and asked him to arise, relinquishing unmanliness unbecoming of a cultured Aryan. It was only when Arjuna in due humility asked a specific question about his immediate duty that Sri Krishna embarked upon the Divine Discourse.

It will be observed by a careful perusal of the few events in which some of the questions have figured, that the teacher had been rather careful and even apparently reluctant in answering. Yama, for example, tried to dissuade Nachiketa from asking the question. He even tempted him to give it up. Sri Krishna also waited to answer till Arjuna was in the right receptive and humble mood. Shaunaka of the Mundakopanishad had approached sage Angiras according to the procedure prescribed for propitiating a teacher.

It is also interesting to note that although Sri Ramakrishna had promptly and elaborately answered Narendranath's question, 'Sir, have you seen God?' he did not do so on many other occasions. Once, when a person asked him whether he had realized God, instead of a simple reply he had said, 'What shall I say? One can only give a hint.'

What do we conclude from all this? It is evident from the foregoing discussion that in the event of asking a question, the questioner, the question and the person to whom it is asked, must be exemplary. Rightly has it been said in the Katha Upanishad:

Ashcharyo vakta kushalosya labdha
Ashcharyo jnata kushalanushishthah.
The expounder is wonderful and the receiver is wonderful; wonderful is he who knows under the instruction of an adept.

Yama, the king of death, was so impressed by Nachiketa that he expressed his delight by saying: 'Like thee, O Nachiketa, may we have questioners.'

While the various instances from the Upanishads, the Puranas and history show the high quality of the questioner, question and the answerer, there could also be certain ridiculous situations where such an ideal combination might be absent. Once a businessman reached the station only to learn that the train was two hours late. What to do? He thought it would be wise to spend the time in the nearby ashrama. It was just past noon and the swami at the ashrama was about to retire for rest. Sethji bowed before the swami and said that he wanted to know the nature of Brahman. When the swami enquired and learnt why the businessman had landed up at the ashrama at such an odd hour, only to pass the time till the train arrived-- to teach him a lesson, the swami said, 'Look, Sir, you know the laws of trade. There are times when articles are easily available in the market. But there are also times when their prices go high. This is not the time to ask questions. Had you come in the evening I would have answered gladly. But right now, you will have to pay one thousand rupees for the answer!'

III

Apart from the competence and the receptive attitude of the questioner, the question too should be exemplary. There could be various types of questions. Even children during their growing period pester their parents with innumerable questions, which, though sincere enquiries of inquisitive minds, can be often difficult to answer. However, as the children grow, they themselves get the answers.

Then there could be foolish questions, which we can leave out of consideration. The discoveries in the realm of physical sciences and humanities also occur because of questions. Newton had asked the question, 'Why does the apple fall?' and had discovered the law of gravitation.

In the realm of philosophical inquiry, there are certain questions which cannot be answered. According to the Buddha questions about the ultimate nature of the world, its infinitude or eternity, about soul and its relation with the body, and about the future existence of a Tathagata are irrelevant and therefore he never bothered to answer them. He avoided all sophistry.

This brings us to the vital questions which we have referred to in this essay.

Is there a God? If so, can he be seen? What happens after death? What is the cause of suffering and what is the way out?--these are certain eternal questions which have challenged humanity from time immemorial and will continue to challenge it for ages to come.

Although their verbal answers can be found in scriptures and in the teachings of those who have found the answer, they still continue to confound us. The reason is that everyone has to search for the answer himself or herself. The answers to such questions are not like discoveries in the realm of science, where they have a cumulative effect. Newton discovered the law of gravitation for the whole humanity and for the rest of the future. But this can't be said about the answers to the vital questions of life. Mere intellectual answers have no meaning with regard to these questions of life and death. One cannot see God by mere intellectual knowledge of the fact that God is, and can be seen by intense yearning. Nor can one get rid of suffering by merely knowing that it is caused by desire and ignorance. Each one of us will have to dive deep and search for the true answers from within ourselves. Unless we actually feel the truth of these statements, the questions will continue to remain questions. The process of deep, sincere search for the answers to the eternal questions of life is what is meant by spiritual practice.