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Chapter 14 · Verse 16
🪈 Krishna speaks
Illustration for Chapter 14, Verse 16

कर्मणः सुकृतस्याहुः सात्त्विकं निर्मलं फलम्। रजसस्तु फलं दुःखमज्ञानं तमसः फलम्॥

karmaṇaḥ sukṛtasyāhuḥ sāttvikaṁ nirmalaṁ phalam | rajasastu phalaṁ duḥkhamajñānaṁ tamasaḥ phalam ||

Word by Word 11 words
कर्मणः
kṛ to do, to act

of action, of a deed

सुकृतस्य
su good, well kṛ to do, to act

of well-done, of good action

आहुः
ah to say, to declare

they say, the wise declare

सात्त्विकम्
sat being, real, good tva the quality of ika belonging to

sattvic, belonging to the calm, bright quality

निर्मलम्
nir free from, without mala stain, dirt

spotless, clean, pure

फलम्
phal to bear fruit, to result

fruit, result

रजसः
raj to be coloured, to be stirred, to be excited

of rajas, of the restless, passionate quality

तु
tu but, however

but, however

दुःखम्
duḥ bad, hard kha space, axle-hole, feeling

pain, sorrow, a wobbling, uneasy feeling

अज्ञानम्
a not jñā to know

not-knowing, ignorance, darkness of mind

तमसः
tam to be dark, to grow dim

of tamas, of the heavy, dark quality

shows what each kind of action leaves behind, like the fruit a tree bears. The wise say that good action done in a calm, clear spirit bears spotless, sweet fruit, and leaves you and the world clean and bright. Action driven by restless craving bears the fruit of pain, and leaves you sore and unsettled. And action done in heavy, dark dullness bears the fruit of ignorance, and leaves you more confused than before.

कथा

Three Gardeners, Three Harvests

From the Bhagavata-style telling of the gunas

In a story the old teachers loved, three gardeners were each given the same seeds and the same patch of earth at the edge of the king's orchard.

The first gardener, Shanta, worked calmly and with care. She watered at the right time, pulled the weeds gently, and did not fret about the prize. She worked because the work was good. When the season turned, her patch was spotless: fruit hung clean and sweet, the soil was rich, and even passing travellers were fed from it. Her harvest left everything brighter than before.

The second gardener, Tivra, burned with wanting. He had to win. He yanked plants to make them grow faster, fought with the other gardeners over water, and lay awake every night gnawing on worry. His patch did grow, but it left him exhausted, snapping at everyone, his hands blistered and his heart sore. "I got my fruit," he admitted, "but it tastes of nothing but my own aching."

The third gardener, Manda, could not be bothered. He slept in the shade, forgot to water, scattered the seeds carelessly, and never learned which plant was which. By season's end his patch was a tangle of weeds. He did not even understand what had gone wrong. "I'm not sure what a garden is meant to do," he mumbled, more confused than when he started.

The old gardener who had set them the task walked the three patches and nodded slowly. He picked one of Shanta's clean, bright fruits, turned it in the sun, and offered a piece to each of them.

"See the fruit each kind of work leaves behind," he said. "Calm, careful work leaves a clean, sweet harvest. Grasping, frantic work leaves pain. Lazy, foggy work leaves only more confusion. The seeds were the same. The earth was the same. The water was the same. The spirit you carried into the work — that, and that alone, is what ripened into your harvest."

Tivra looked at his sore, blistered hands. Manda blinked at his tangle of weeds. And Shanta, who had wanted nothing but to garden well, found her spotless harvest was somehow the sweetest of all.

चिन्तनम्

Krishna says calm work bears sweet fruit, grabby work bears pain, and lazy work bears confusion — even when the task is the same. Think of a time you did the same chore in two different moods. How did the way you felt change what you were left with at the end?