Two doors are named before either one is opened.
This is a promise, not yet its content. Krishna says two conditions of departure exist, one ending return and one continuing it, and holds the naming of each for the verses just ahead.
Now I will tell you of the two conditions of departure, O best of the Bharatas: the one by which yogis, having left the body, do not return, and the other by which they do return.
The reading read whole, as one unhurried piece
Where it stands
Krishna has just told Arjuna that those who reach the supreme abode do not come back. That naturally raises a further question: by which route does a soul reach non-return, and by which route does it return instead? This verse is Krishna pausing to name that question before answering it, the promise that opens the passage the next several verses will carry out.
The teaching
There are, Krishna says, two conditions under which a person leaves the body. By one, the departed does not return; by the other, the departed does. He calls these conditions by the word time, but the commentators who take up this line are united that the word should not be heard as a literal hour or date. Time here reaches toward the path itself, since the routes a soul travels are understood to be marked and escorted by an order tied to stretches of time, from the day up to the year, an order that will let items outside the calendar proper, such as fire and light, share the same name by a kind of part-for-whole naming, the way one word for a grove can cover everything growing in it. The word yogi, too, is read broadly enough to gather more than one kind of traveler, so that this single verse is already quietly setting up two people, two roads, and two ends, without yet saying which is which. What this verse withholds is exactly as important as what it states. It does not yet say what marks the path of non-return or the path of return, and every commentary that goes further than a bare paraphrase points forward, not into this line, but into the two or three verses immediately following, where the actual content, fire and light against smoke and night, arrives. Read this verse, then, as a door being named rather than opened.
The doubt that rises
If the verse is only a promise of what is to come, what is actually gained by sitting with it now, rather than skipping ahead to where the paths are finally named? And does knowing the shape of the two doors change anything about which one a person is likely to walk through?
Where the paths divide
Read as a bare, careful announcement.
What survives of the classical Advaita reading on this exact line stays close to the letter: two kinds of departed traveler are named, meditator and doer of action, bound respectively for non-return and return, with the word yogi stretched by a figure of speech to hold both. The fuller Advaita claim, that the finished knower undertakes no journey at all because the path taught here is meant only for the worshipper of the qualified Brahman, belongs to the unfolding of the verses this one introduces, not to a full statement already delivered in this line.
Read as the opening of a literal, conducted journey.
Here time is already read as meaning path, a route escorted at every stage by deities who preside over its divisions from the day to the year. This sets the terms for what follows: the departing soul's journey is not a metaphor but a literal passage, taken in hand by named conveyer-deities, so that the whole weight of readiness at the moment of death, being joined in yoga now so the path of light stays open later, is what this announcement is quietly preparing to teach.
Read as technical groundwork for a fuller apparatus.
The surviving comment here is compact: time already anticipates items such as fire that are not themselves time-divisions, so whatever presides over time in this verse must be understood to preside over the whole coming apparatus of paths, not the calendar in the ordinary sense. The larger Dvaita themes of dependence and graded destiny, so central elsewhere, are not yet argued in what remains of this particular line; they belong to its sequel.
Read honestly, as a thin surviving note rather than a full argument.
What remains of the commentary here is a single short observation: those who ascend by the upward passage seek either release or enjoyment, and non-return is named as liberation, return as being for the sake of enjoyment. Nothing further survives to develop this into the recognition-centered argument found more fully elsewhere in this tradition. Any extension beyond this bare note, such as reading the two outcomes as two ways consciousness's own expansion can settle, should be held as a flagged possibility, not as this commentator's own recorded words.
Read as the precise statement of a question, not yet its answer.
This reading treats the verse as posing its question with real precision: given that some who worship the Lord never return while others do, by which path does each depart? It grounds the path-sense of time in a scriptural cross-reference to the sun's two courses, and offers its own image, that of a grove whose name covers everything growing in it, for how one word can hold a longer list. But it says plainly that the actual answer, which mark of time goes with which return, is two verses away, not here.
Read as the fullest surviving preview, already tracking exceptions.
This is the fullest of the surviving comments on the line, and it already begins answering what the verse only announces: the worshipper of the qualified Brahman needs a path because right vision has not yet dawned before that world is enjoyed, while the finished knower needs none. It is careful and specific about exceptions, noting that some travelers on the path of the gods still return while the path of the fathers returns without exception, and holds that this complication does not undo non-return as the general rule and praise of the higher path.
All six readings agree this verse names two destinies without yet naming their two roads. They differ in how much of the sequel each is willing to preview here, some staying at the bare announcement, one already tracking exceptions in detail, and one surviving only as a single thin note. This page keeps that unevenness visible rather than smoothing it into six matched paragraphs; where a source is quiet, the quiet is left standing.
A question to carry
Before you read ahead to see the two paths named, sit for a moment with not knowing: does it change anything to hear that departure has more than one shape, even before you learn what marks each one?
Where this teaching travels
Verses that sit near this one, each going its own way; follow whichever calls you.
So let this verse do only what it claims to do: hold the question open, honestly, for the space of one line, and trust the road ahead to answer it in its own time.
Each school is voiced from the commentators named above. Their full words, every translation, and where the schools agree and differ wait in the reading desk just below. Open the commentary desk.
Having just said that the supreme abode is never returned from, Krishna turns here to the question that answer provokes: by which route does that happen, and by which route does the other thing happen?
Where they agreethe convergence
Across schools and centuries the commentators come to the same ground. These are the points they share, and the voices that hold each one.
Take this as an announcement, not an answer; the two conditions are named here so that the naming to come has somewhere to land.
Across Advaita, Viśiṣṭādvaita, Dvaita, BhaktiŚaṅkara · Rāmānuja · Madhva · Śrīdhara · MadhusūdanaIn Śaṅkara, Rāmānuja, and 3 others’ words
All six readings treat this verse as a hinge rather than a self-contained teaching. Krishna has just said that those who reach the supreme abode do not come back; the natural next question, by which route does that happen, and by which route does the other thing happen, is exactly the question this verse opens and promises to answer, with the actual detail arriving in the verses just ahead.
Hear the word time as already pointing past the calendar, toward the path itself and the unseen order that governs it.
Across Viśiṣṭādvaita, Dvaita, Bhakti, AdvaitaRāmānuja · Madhva · Śrīdhara · MadhusūdanaIn Rāmānuja, Madhva, and 2 others’ words
The word for the condition of departure is kala, time, and the commentators who address it agree it cannot be taken as a literal clock-reading. Time stands for the path, because the routes a departing soul travels are presided over by deities tied to stretches of time, from the day up through the year.
Notice that 'yogi' is stretched here to hold more than one kind of traveler, the meditator and the doer of ordained action alike.
Across Dvaita, Bhakti, AdvaitaMadhva · Śrīdhara · MadhusūdanaIn Madhva, Śrīdhara, and 1 others’ words
The single word time is read as covering a longer list that includes items, such as fire, light, and smoke, that are not themselves time-divisions. This is defended as a part-for-whole naming, the way one landmark's name can stand for an entire road, or the way mango-grove names everything growing in it, not only the mangoes.
Where a source thins out, as it does here for one of the six, let the honest gap stand rather than paper over it with invented certainty.
Across AdvaitaŚaṅkara · MadhusūdanaIn Śaṅkara and Madhusūdana’s words
Yogis, in this verse, is read broadly enough to gather two different travelers under one word: those properly joined in meditation, and those who merely perform ordained action and are called yogis only by extension. Each kind of traveler is understood to take a different route toward a different end.
Let the verse's own patience be instructive: not every question needs its answer in the same breath that raises it.
Across Advaita, Viśiṣṭādvaita, BhaktiŚaṅkara · Rāmānuja · Śrīdhara · MadhusūdanaIn Śaṅkara, Rāmānuja, and 2 others’ words
None of the six treats this verse as delivering its promised content here. Every reading that goes further than a bare paraphrase points forward, explicitly or by silence, to the verses immediately following as the place where the two paths are actually named and distinguished.
This is the shared ground; it can be carried as it is. Below is where they differ.
Where they differthe divergence
Viśiṣṭādvaita, in their fuller words
Ramanuja reads time itself as already meaning path, since the path is escorted throughout by the deities who preside over its time-divisions. This sets up his larger reading, carried through the verses that follow, in which the soul's departure is a literal journey conducted by named conveyer-deities who take the candidate in hand, so that being joined in yoga now is what keeps the path of light open at the moment it is needed.
Dvaita, in their fuller words
Madhva's brief comment is mostly a technical flag: time in this verse already anticipates items, fire among them, that are not themselves time-divisions, so the deities named as presiding over time must be understood to preside over the whole apparatus of the two paths, not the calendar alone. The larger Dvaita concerns about graded dependence and graded destiny are not yet in view in what survives of this specific line.
Bhakti, in their fuller words
Sridhara treats the verse as a precisely framed question rather than an answer: given that some who worship the Lord never return while others plainly do, by which path does each group travel? He grounds the path-reading of time in a scriptural cross-reference and supplies his own mango-grove image for the part-for-whole naming, but he is explicit that the actual answer, which mark of time goes with which kind of return, belongs to the two verses ahead.
A modern reading, in their fuller words
Madhusudana's is the fullest surviving comment and already begins answering the question the verse only poses, previewing that worshippers of the qualified Brahman need a route because right vision has not yet dawned for them, while the finished knower needs none. He is exact that the path of the fathers returns without exception while the path of the gods returns only in some cases, a complication he says does not undo the praise of non-return as that path's rule.
A few questions to carry
These ask for understanding, not recall; each answer is settled by the commentary itself.
For a second sitting
Carry this with youwhat stays
Sit for a moment with the fact that this verse does not yet tell you anything final. It only says: two conditions exist, and I am about to name them. Let that be enough for now. Notice how often the mind rushes past a threshold, impatient for the content behind it, and instead let the announcement itself do its quiet work, the reminder that departure is not one uniform thing, and that how you have lived shapes which door opens when it comes.
So hold the question open for a moment longer, the way this verse itself does, and let the paths it promises arrive in their own place.
Read deeper
Everything a full study holds, folded below.
Word by word
All the commentary, woven together
The commentary, woven together
machine-assisted draft, pending review
Convergence
ll six readings treat this verse as a hinge rather than a self-contained teaching. Krishna has just said that those who reach the supreme abode do not come back; the natural next question, by which route does that happen, and by which route does the other thing happen, is exactly the question this verse opens and promises to answer, with the actual detail arriving in the verses just ahead.
Śaṅkarācārya · Rāmānujācārya · Madhvācārya · Śrīdhara Svāmī · Madhusūdana Sarasvatī
The word for the condition of departure is kala, time, and the commentators who address it agree it cannot be taken as a literal clock-reading. Time stands for the path, because the routes a departing soul travels are presided over by deities tied to stretches of time, from the day up through the year.
Rāmānujācārya · Madhvācārya · Śrīdhara Svāmī · Madhusūdana Sarasvatī
The single word time is read as covering a longer list that includes items, such as fire, light, and smoke, that are not themselves time-divisions. This is defended as a part-for-whole naming, the way one landmark's name can stand for an entire road, or the way mango-grove names everything growing in it, not only the mangoes.
Madhvācārya · Śrīdhara Svāmī · Madhusūdana Sarasvatī
Yogis, in this verse, is read broadly enough to gather two different travelers under one word: those properly joined in meditation, and those who merely perform ordained action and are called yogis only by extension. Each kind of traveler is understood to take a different route toward a different end.
Śaṅkarācārya · Madhusūdana Sarasvatī
None of the six treats this verse as delivering its promised content here. Every reading that goes further than a bare paraphrase points forward, explicitly or by silence, to the verses immediately following as the place where the two paths are actually named and distinguished.
Śaṅkarācārya · Rāmānujācārya · Śrīdhara Svāmī · Madhusūdana Sarasvatī
Divergence
Advaita Vedānta
The surviving fragment of Shankara's comment stays narrowly on the announcement itself: two classes of departed yogi are named, one bound for non-return and one for return, and the word yogi is stretched to cover the mere doer of action alongside the meditator proper. It does not, in what survives, take up the deeper Advaita claim, developed more fully by the sub-commentators on this same verse, that the finished knower undertakes no journey at all and that the path being introduced here is meant only for the worshipper of the qualified Brahman.
Śaṅkarācārya
Viśiṣṭādvaita
Ramanuja reads time itself as already meaning path, since the path is escorted throughout by the deities who preside over its time-divisions. This sets up his larger reading, carried through the verses that follow, in which the soul's departure is a literal journey conducted by named conveyer-deities who take the candidate in hand, so that being joined in yoga now is what keeps the path of light open at the moment it is needed.
Rāmānujācārya
Dvaita
Madhva's brief comment is mostly a technical flag: time in this verse already anticipates items, fire among them, that are not themselves time-divisions, so the deities named as presiding over time must be understood to preside over the whole apparatus of the two paths, not the calendar alone. The larger Dvaita concerns about graded dependence and graded destiny are not yet in view in what survives of this specific line.
Madhvācārya
Kashmir Śaiva
What survives of Abhinavagupta's comment here is a single short note, not a developed reading: those who ascend by the upward passage seek either release or enjoyment, non-return being liberation and return being for the sake of enjoyment. On a Kashmir Shaiva reading, one might extend this to suggest the two outcomes describe two ways consciousness's own expansion can settle, but this extension is flagged here as conditional, not as Abhinavagupta's own developed argument.
Ācārya Abhinavagupta
Bhakti
Sridhara treats the verse as a precisely framed question rather than an answer: given that some who worship the Lord never return while others plainly do, by which path does each group travel? He grounds the path-reading of time in a scriptural cross-reference and supplies his own mango-grove image for the part-for-whole naming, but he is explicit that the actual answer, which mark of time goes with which kind of return, belongs to the two verses ahead.
Śrīdhara Svāmī
Modern
Madhusudana's is the fullest surviving comment and already begins answering the question the verse only poses, previewing that worshippers of the qualified Brahman need a route because right vision has not yet dawned for them, while the finished knower needs none. He is exact that the path of the fathers returns without exception while the path of the gods returns only in some cases, a complication he says does not undo the praise of non-return as that path's rule.
Madhusūdana Sarasvatī
A Seeker Asks
If this verse does not actually tell me anything about the paths themselves, why does it matter at all, and what should I take from it before I read further?
It matters because it fixes the shape of the question before the answer arrives. Every commentator who addresses it agrees that Krishna is establishing two destinies, non-return and return, as the frame the coming verses will fill in; reading it carefully now means the detail that follows will land on prepared ground.
Śaṅkarācārya · Śrīdhara Svāmī
It also teaches something by its very method, apart from its content: that time, in this teaching, is not the ordinary clock you assume. Both Ramanuja and Madhusudana treat this as worth pausing over in its own right, since it reorients how you should hear every calendar-word that follows.
Rāmānujācārya · Madhusūdana Sarasvatī
And it is honest about its own limits. Where the sources thin out, as with Abhinavagupta's single surviving line, the right response is not to demand a fuller doctrine than the text gives, but to hold the question open and let the following verses, and the fuller tradition, carry the weight this one line does not.
Ācārya Abhinavagupta · Madhvācārya
Contemplation
Sit for a moment with the fact that this verse does not yet tell you anything final. It only says: two conditions exist, and I am about to name them. Let that be enough for now. Notice how often the mind rushes past a threshold, impatient for the content behind it, and instead let the announcement itself do its quiet work, the reminder that departure is not one uniform thing, and that how you have lived shapes which door opens when it comes.
Sit with this · sonnet-5-authored
All the translations and commentary
Pull up a chair.
You have come to sit with this verse. When you are ready to hear the translators and the commentators in full, open a tradition in the doorways below, or add a voice by name above.
Also hear this verse, tradition by tradition.