What's the purpose of life?

The Four Purushaarthas

I owe what little understanding I have to the great teachers from whom I have learned, especially to the lineage of Adi Shankaracharya. The fault for any misunderstanding or lack of clarity is mine, and not in the teachings, or those from whom I have learned. Om Sri Gurubhyo Namah.

You’re tired. Your mind is scattered. You feel stressed, angry, sad, anxious, and drown yourself in work, TV, and social media.

You feel afraid to be with yourself, and there is a deep feeling inside you that tells you it’s not ok to be doing nothing. You feel like happiness is somewhere ahead of you, perhaps vaguely on a beach somewhere in the future. Your inner voice tells you you’re not good enough, or that you need to get somewhere you’re not.

You try to find meaning in your work, in your relationships, but deep down you feel a sense of uneasiness, existential dread, like everything you do is meaningless. You experience new things, learn, meet people, but when you think about it deeply enough it feels hollow and empty. You are moving through life as if pushed by the forces around you. Your mind is always either in the future or the past, and your inner child is slowly being drowned out by the clammer of everyday responsibilities that pile up on your shoulders without a sign of letting up.

You try to hide it, but every now and then, it comes right back up. The best you can do is distract yourself.

In Sanskrit, this is called dukkha. Often translated as “suffering”, the word stems from the prefix “du”, which means “bad”, and the root word “kha”, which means “space”. Taken together, the word conjures the image (and the sound – it is onomatopoeic) of a spoked wheel that is not properly fitted on its axle, leading to a rough chariot ride. To contrast, sukha, its opposite with the prefix “su”, meaning good, means “comfortable” or “happy” – a wheel that fits well on its axle leads to a smooth ride.

All our actions in life - from big things like life-decisions or career-changes to small things like taking a deep breath or shifting in our chair – are simply to avoid dukkha and attain sukha. There are no exceptions to this rule. 

[Side note: A common objection in Sanskrit literature is around masochists. These people are going after suffering. The response to this is that masochists gain happiness from what others may call suffering. Even a masochist is avoiding pain in the pursuit of happiness.]

Zooming out to the scale of a human life, there are four paths to happiness. These are known as the purushaarthas (Purush means Person, Artha in this context means meaning or purpose). It is the answer to the question “what is the meaning of life.” There are four. This does not mean that every human wants all of these things, and nor does it mean that there is a diktat that we should go after any of these. Rather, this is simply a framework based on observation of what we humans tend to do. One or more of these four motivate us to act. These are the “goals'' of human life, as observed.

The Purushaarthas: The Purpose of Human Life

The four purushaarthas are:

1.Dharma

2.Artha

3.Kaama

4.Moksha

Dharma

Dharma is a difficult word to translate, but roughly, in this context, can be taken to mean “doing the right thing.” This could mean working for the good of humanity by way of charity, working for charitable organizations, or making career choices driven by social impact. Folks driven by this purpose are often found in climate-tech and other climate-related fields, education, health, non-profits of various shapes and sizes, religious and spiritual organizations, and many other such fields where action is motivated by outcomes deemed by the actor to be “good.”

To illustrate this, here is a conversation between Purvapaksha (henceforth known as P) and Jogi. We will use these characters in the rest of the series as well to help bring further clarity and understanding:

Purvapaksha (P): I consider “good” action to be that which causes happiness for others. How is it then that Dharma is a path to happiness for me, the actor?

Jogi: One only does good for others because it feels good for them. There is no motivator of action aside from cessation of dukkha and attainment of sukha. This can be a hard pill to swallow, but if we are truly honest with ourselves, even the most altruistic action is done only for the sake of the Self.

P: No - in the case of a patriotic soldier who dies for their country, the soldier is putting their people above their own happiness.

Jogi: It is not so. Here also, the soldier’s happiness is the motivator. The soldier would only die for their country if they are happier putting themselves in harm’s way than in not doing so. All action is done for the sake of cessation of dukkha and attainment of sukha.

Artha

Artha in this context means money, power, and wealth in general. Money and power are certainly strong motivators, especially in capitalist-culture. In terms of career choices, people driven by this purpose are often found anywhere that pays them well.

Notice, that people can certainly be driven by both Artha and Dharma – people who want to “make a positive impact” while making a good living fall into this category as well. There are also people who are driven by Artha alone, where money is an end in itself. Often, there can be a tendency in us to judge this motivator poorly, both in others and in ourselves. We are often hard on ourselves for wanting money and power, when this is actually a very common human desire. To be clear, this framework does not apply any quality judgements, it is simply an observation of what humans do.

Kaama

Kaama means sense pleasure (yes, it is the same word as in the Kama Sutra). Many of us are driven by sense pleasures – this can be in the form of nice clothes, cars, experiences, travel, sex, drugs, food, even art. Often, one may think they are driven by the desire for money, when actually they are primarily driven by the desire for sense pleasure as a means to happiness.

Moksha

Moksha means freedom. In this context, the word refers to freedom from the cycle of birth and death. In Indic traditions (except the Charvaka), the prevailing worldview is that we are stuck in an infinite cycle of birth and death, called samsara. We are born, we die, we are born again, we die again, and so on.

From an Abrahamic standpoint, the question will naturally arise – “how do we know we are re-born after we die?”

For this, without getting into the specifics of reincarnation, there is another way to frame moksha.

Patanjali, in his Yoga Sutras says “Dukkham Eva Sarvam Vivekinah” [to the one with discrimination, everything is dukkha].

P: No, I have many nice experiences. There is no dukkha in them. Sure, I can accept that life has ups and downs – there is suffering, but there is also happiness.

Jogi: Notice that all happiness is like honey mixed with poison.

Let us take the example of any happy experience – say a nice beach vacation. Before the vacation begins, you long for the vacation. You no longer pay as much attention to your work, and your mind is scattered thinking of how lovely the warm sun will be. This longing is dukkha. We often frame this experience as “looking forward”, when in truth, we are simply not living fully now, and giving ourselves an excuse to do so, avoiding the suffering produced by unfulfilled desire.

Once you arrive at the beach, and the vacation is underway, you start to notice things that did not meet your expectations. The clouds are out, and you expected sunny days. Dukkha. The food isn’t quite up to standard. Dukkha.

Even if it is everything you dreamed of, you start to dread that it will end. Dukkha.

Once the vacation is over, and you are back at work, you miss being on the beach. Dukkha. You long for another vacation – a repetition of the pleasurable experience. Dukkha. If it didn’t go as planned, you regret taking the time off. Dukkha. You ruminate on the things you could have done differently. Dukkha. You wish you had more time off. Dukkha. Dukkha. Dukkha.

This is true for all pleasurable experiences, big and small. Teaching children about this concept I often use the example of a chocolate cookie. Before I have it, I want it. Dukkha. When I have it, I don’t want it to end. Dukkha. After it’s gone, I wish I had more. Dukkha. All experience, no matter how pleasurable, is dukkha in disguise.

P: Isn’t this just a pessimistic framing? I could just as easily say that “missing something” or “looking forward to something” are positive experiences. It brings me happiness to look upon old memories.

Jogi: It is not that looking forward to something, or missing a past experience do not bring happiness. Quite the opposite. Reliving a pleasant memory can certainly bring feelings of joy. However, these feelings are undeniably mixed with feelings of wanting, grasping, and clinging, which are feelings of dukkha. Further, dukkha translated as suffering is rather clumsy. Dukkha is simply an uncomfortable ride – a wheel that doesn’t fit the axle just so. When you long for a past experience or a future one, it prevents you from being fully present and paying attention to what actually is, drawing you into a world of concepts that is fundamentally hollow and empty.

Not everyone is ready for this understanding – and as a result, this and other related philosophies are often referred to as the “Secret Teachings.” Not secret in the “shh don’t tell anyone” sense, but rather in the sense that you may tell someone the words, but they will not stick. They will go in one ear and out the other. And that is fine. One of my favourite verses from Kabir, a 15th Century mystic and poet is:

Dheere dheere re mana dheere sab kuchh hoye

Maali seenche sau ghadaa, ritu aaye phal hoye

Slowly slowly, hey mind, everything happens slowly.

The gardener may pour a hundred pots (of water), the fruit will come only in the season.

If you’re still reading though, let us assume you are along for the ride. Everything is suffering, and it’s time to escape. This is when we are drawn to Moksha as a motivator of action. For most of us, Dharma, Artha, and Kaama are sufficient, and that is perfectly ok. However, for a select few, we are tired of the game, and want to get out – for good reason!

Notice, Dharma, Artha, and Kaama all fall into the same category of honey mixed with poison. “Good” action may not be viewed as good by everyone, your actions may be fruitless, and ultimately any happiness that you get is fleeting. You secretly hold a desire to be remembered, but you know deep down that this is not going to happen, and leads to internal frustration. Dukkha.

Money is never enough – there is always a higher number, and as a result, trying to get fulfillment from money is like trying to fill a broken pot with water (traditional example). Power means responsibility, which means dukkha, leading to a never-ending cycle of tireless work. Further, power goes hand-in-hand with fear. The more power you amass, the more fear you have of those around you. Also, for both money and power, the more you have, the more you are afraid of losing it.

Kaama is limited too – you can only eat so many chocolate cakes, drive so many cars at once, go on so many vacations. One chocolate cake is good, two is better, and three is worse than none at all. Additionally, the more attached you are to sense pleasures, the more attached you are to your body. Death is inevitable, and so, beyond a certain point, with every passing moment you feel existential dread – as the body deteriorates so does your ability to be happy.

Dharma, Artha, and Kaama are not only insufficient, but also inefficient. To explain this, let us take the example of the chocolate-chip cookie.

A desire for a cookie arises in the mind, and so I go to the store (desire motivated the action). I purchase the cookie, heat it up, and take a bite. The sensation of a cookie arises in my mind. When the sensation meets the desire, the desire is negated, and I feel a sense of happiness.

In the case of Dharma, Artha, and Kaama, in order to feel happiness, a desire needs to be fulfilled by an external entity. Unless the action bears the desired fruit, there is dukkha. This “fruit” could be external validation from people, money, power, or sense pleasure of any kind. Notice, none of these are in your direct control, and more often than not, take tremendous effort to achieve. Further, they are all impermanent, and so the desire will come right back up – I might have one cookie today, but tomorrow after lunch I’m going to want another one, and now I’m stuck in an endless loop.

What if there were an alternative way to negate desire? Would it result in the same sense of happiness? Is it possible to feel satisfied without running after the objects we want? This is what is meant by Moksha – freedom from desire.

Aatyantika dukkha nivritti,

Paramaananda praptischa

The cessation of unending dukkha, and the attainment of the highest Bliss. This is Moksha.

This is a complex topic, involving questions around whether it is possible to be free of desire at all, ending up at the question of the true nature of the Self and the negation of the separate self. 

P: How do I stop desire?

Jogi: Do you desire to stop desire?

P: Yes.

Jogi: You wish to stop desiring, but you desire not to desire. Can you stop desiring not to desire?

Getting to this seemingly infinite loop is at the core of all the Yogas, or paths to Moksha, and will be the subject of the remainder of the articles in this series. 

See you next week - and until then, may you be free from suffering.

Next time: The Four Yogas: I want to be free from suffering. How do I do it?