Reading Room
The thinking behind the books — prefaces, introductions, character studies, conclusions — gathered here in one place. Three voices, one text.
It was seen that many people, from all sections of society, irrespective of their class, creed, background, religious differences, language, upbringing, are thirsting to learn the Bhagavad Gita(BG). But they generally struggle with the problem of mispronunciation or the fear of it, as Samskrtam can get messy at times with various sandhis, samaasas and chandas.. Hence, many refrain from even making the effort.
BG being a Smriti text, a text derived in the spirit of Vedas, a text worthy of securing into memory, a text that breathes life into people's spiritual world, a text that is one among the Prasthana traya, a text that is magical in its sounds, a simple eloquent text which marries spiritualism with materialism; is desperately sought. A style which simplified this problem and hopefully came as a solution, was required.
We believe that with Samskrtam being a phonetic language, and with sound therapy re-emerging as the belief/ proof in the therapeutic strength of vibrations of Samskrtam words, the correct pronunciation of Bhagavad Gita shlokas can propel people out of their miseries and enhance their spiritual growth.
By taking inspiration from the Vedic style of recitation, and with some applicable grammar rules, a new style of reading the text was concocted, with of course, the grace of the Guru. Having tested this method on many subjects (students of age group 8-80), the results suggested that it caters easily to all Devanagari script knowers and could immaculately recite at the first (and in a few cases, second) try.
Hence this method,with the sole good will to help people with such proper recitation, was to expand and reach out to those interested. Thus was born Vaamshii. This method of breaking words for precise pronunciation can be adopted to chant or recite any other poetic text in Samskrtam. The entire BG, with all the 18 chapters, are presented here before you.
Who will this book benefit?
- Beginners of Devanagari script
- Hindi speaking audience
- Children enthusiastic about BG memorization
- Gita advanced learners who already know Gita but want to refine and polish it in a Vedic style with proper intonations
- Any shloka-learner can apply this method of splitting words to other texts
Herein, a warmup with a very cursory introduction to Devanagari script, just to ensure the readers and users are on board the same ship.
The splits follow six core principles, applied consistently across all 700 verses:
- Syllable groups — up to three syllables per group (rarely four). Each group is chanted as one breath-unit.
- Sandhis resolved — parasavarṇa sandhi, visarga ścutva, satva and other sandhis are carried out wherever the original text permits.
- Quartet (maṇisraj) style — each verse is presented as four pāda lines, except where chandas must be preserved or a compound must stay whole.
- Compounds readable — samāsas are broken at their natural seams (brahmanirvāṇam → brahma nirvāṇam), not at arbitrary syllable counts.
- Conjuncts taken by the preceding word — the following consonant cluster belongs to the word before it (asminn → asmin·n).
- Upadhmānīya (#), jihvāmūlīya (%) and avagraha (ऽ) — three phonetic signs used where the standard Devanagari alphabet does not make the sound explicit.
The Vaamshii is not a text to be read but a score to be sung. Once the method is absorbed, it transfers to any anuṣṭubh-metered Samskṛta text.
This work is not a translation. It is not a commentary, a philosophical treatise, or an interpretive essay. It is something rarer and, in the tradition of Indian scholarship, more ancient: a thematic re-presentation of an existing sacred text — a way of reading the Bhagavad Gītā that has been available to the careful student all along, but which has never, to the compiler's knowledge, been systematically assembled in this form.
The Bhagavad Gītā, in its eighteen chapters, is one of the most extraordinary documents in the history of human thought. A dialogue between the warrior Arjuna and the Divine incarnate in the form of his charioteer Sri Krishna, spoken on a battlefield at the fulcrum of an age, it is simultaneously a poem, a philosophical treatise, a manual of psychology, a theology of devotion, a guide to action, a map of the cosmos, and a direct encounter between the human and the Divine. Its seven hundred verses have sustained scholars, saints, soldiers, householders and wandering ascetics for more than two thousand years. Commentaries upon it fill libraries. It has been translated into every major language and explained in every key of human understanding — mystical, rationalist, devotional, political, ethical and existential.
And yet, for all that richness, the Gītā presents a particular challenge to the systematic reader. Its teaching does not unfold in a linear, chapter-by-chapter development of a single argument. Rather, it moves as a living mind moves — returning to the same themes repeatedly, approaching the same truths from different angles, weaving karma and jñāna and bhakti and dhyāna into and out of each other across all eighteen chapters, never settling into a single strand for long. A verse on meditation may appear in a chapter about renunciation; a verse on the law of karma may surface in a chapter about devotion; the description of a realized being may emerge mid-discussion of cosmology. This is not a flaw in the text. It is a feature of a teaching that understands that the same truth must be encountered from many directions before it becomes the student's own.
But this very richness creates a need. The student who wishes to understand, for example, what the Gītā as a whole says about meditation — gathering every verse on dhyāna from across all eighteen chapters, laying them side by side, seeing how they build upon each other — has until now had to undertake that work themselves. The student who wants to see Sri Krishna's complete teaching on the nature of the Self, or the fullest description of the foolish person, or every verse in which the Lord speaks directly in the first person, had no ready reference to turn to.
This compilation is the answer to that need.
The seven hundred verses of the Gītā — following the numbering of the Gita Press, Gorakhpur edition, which remains the most widely used standard in India — have been read with care, contemplated with patience, and sorted into thirty thematic groupings. Each of these thirty buckets represents a coherent domain of the Gītā's teaching: Arjuna's Questions, Fools, Yuddha (War), Ego, Svabhāva (Inborn Nature), Dharma, Adhikārin (The Qualified Recipient), Karman (Action), Law of Karma, Yajña (Sacrifice), Sannyāsa–Tyāga (Renunciation), Samatva (Equanimity), Sādhana (Practice), Dhyāna (Meditation), Guṇa (The Three Qualities of Nature), Sāṅkhya (The Puruṣa–Prakṛti Framework), Bhakti (Devotion), Jñāna (Knowledge), Ātma-Tattva (The Truth of the Self), Emulative Qualities of a Siddha (The Portrait of the Perfected Being), Aham — the Māṁ-Verses (Where the Lord Speaks in the First Person), Īśvara (The Personal Lord), Vibhūti (Divine Glories), Darśana (The Vision of the Universal Form), Cosmology, Brahman (The Absolute), Mokṣa (Liberation), Samanvaya (Synthesis and Reconciliation), Itare (Contextual and Narrative Verses), and Appendix (Structural and Transitional Verses).
Some verses belong to a single theme. A verse wholly concerned with the mechanics of meditation, for instance, appears only under Dhyāna. But many verses illuminate more than one truth simultaneously — as a single lamp may cast light in several directions at once. A verse about the sthita-prajña, the one of steady wisdom, may be simultaneously a verse about Ātma-Tattva (because it describes the person who has known the Self) and about Samatva (because it demonstrates equanimity) and about Emulative Qualities (because it serves as a portrait of the perfected being). In such cases, the verse appears under every theme it genuinely illumines, with a note indicating its companions. The reader should therefore not be surprised to encounter the same shloka in more than one section — each appearance brings a different facet of that verse's richness to the foreground.
Because of this intentional repetition across themes, the total count of verse appearances in this volume exceeds seven hundred. This is not an error; it is the nature of a multi-dimensional teaching presented through multiple lenses. The seven hundred original shlokas are all here; they simply appear, some of them, more than once — like a gem that must be turned in the light to reveal each of its facets.
Most of the seven hundred shlokas of the Gītā have been captured and placed under their relevant themes. Where a verse has been inadvertently omitted, or where the compiler's judgment in assigning a theme has missed a dimension that a reader perceives, the author warmly invites correspondence. No compilation of this kind can claim completeness; it is an offering, not a pronouncement. Readers who notice an omission, or who feel that a verse belongs in a theme where it has not been placed, are encouraged to write to the author — such feedback will enrich any future edition of this work.
The sequence of the thirty themes is not alphabetical, nor is it based on the chapters of the Gītā. It follows, as closely as a linear sequence can, the soul's own inward pilgrimage as the Gītā describes it. The journey begins with Arjuna's Questions — the voice of the seeker in crisis, the doubting human heart that makes the teaching necessary. It moves through Fools (what the unawakened looks like, so we may recognize these qualities in ourselves), through Yuddha (the outer battle that is also the inner battle), through Ego (the root of the human problem), Svabhāva (the raw material of the path), Dharma (duty as the entry to the path), Adhikārin (who is fit to receive the teaching), Karman and Law of Karma (the mechanics of action and its consequences), Yajña (how action is transformed into offering), Sannyāsa–Tyāga (the inner renunciation that transforms action), Samatva (equanimity as the definition and fruit of yoga), Sādhana (the practical disciplines), Dhyāna (meditation as the central inward practice), Guṇa and Sāṅkhya (the analytical framework of nature's constitution). From this foundation in analysis and practice, the journey rises to the devotional (Bhakti), the knowledge dimension (Jñāna), the experience of the Self (Ātma-Tattva), the portrait of the one who has realized it (Emulative Qualities), the direct encounter with the Divine (the Māṁ-Verses), the Lord as personal sovereign (Īśvara), His glories in the world (Vibhūti), His overwhelming universal presence (Darśana). The final arc moves from the depths of cosmic structure (Cosmology) to the Absolute (Brahman) to the peace of Liberation (Mokṣa), and closes with Samanvaya — the great synthesis that reconciles all paths — and then Itare and Appendix, which hold the context, the narrative, and the frame within which all of this has been spoken.
This sequence honors the Preface's claim that the Gītā's teaching is not linear but concentric — always circling the same divine centre. The arrangement here is one path through those concentric circles, offered as a guide rather than a constraint.
Each of the thirty sections opens with a thematic summary: a reflection on that theme's significance, its location within the Gītā's broader teaching, and a guided reading of the verses that follow. These summaries are not commentaries; they do not claim to exhaust the verses' meaning. They are designed to orient the reader before they enter the verses themselves, and to suggest connections between shlokas that might not be apparent if each verse were read in isolation. The Sanskrit text of each verse is given as it stands — entire, without modification, the original language in its own beauty. Verse references follow the Gita Press standard (chapter.verse). Where a verse belongs to additional themes, those themes are indicated in square brackets following the reference.
A word about what this compilation is not. It is not an argument that the Gītā's chapters should be rearranged, or that thematic study is superior to chapter-by-chapter reading. The chapter structure of the Gītā is itself a teaching — the movement from crisis (chapter one) through doctrine (chapters two through six) through devotion (chapters seven through twelve) through analysis (thirteen through eighteen) is deliberate and profound. The traditional reading, with its commentaries, is irreplaceable. This thematic arrangement is a companion, not a replacement — a way of hearing the Gītā's many voices in each register separately, so that when they are heard together again in the traditional reading, the harmony is richer and the voices more distinct.
This work was not assembled quickly or mechanically. Each verse had to be read, returned to, listened for — until it revealed, through its language and its content, the themes it genuinely inhabits. Sometimes a verse that seemed to belong obviously to one theme revealed itself, on deeper reading, to belong equally to another. Sometimes a verse that seemed merely contextual turned out to carry a teaching of profound significance. The process was one of sustained attention, of the kind the Gītā itself recommends: not hurried, not grasping at conclusions, but willing to sit with a text until it opens.
May this compilation serve both as a study tool and as a meditative companion. May it help the reader see, across the full breadth of the Gītā's seven hundred verses, the coherence of Sri Krishna's teaching — the way in which every thread, followed far enough, leads to the same center. And may it deepen the reader's encounter with the original text, which remains, in the glory of its Sanskrit and the depth of its silence, inexhaustible.
The Gītā belongs to no age and to all ages. It is a mirror, not a monument — and every generation that looks into it sees not a new text but a new reader. If these pages help even one seeker to pause, to reflect, and to listen — as Arjuna once did, on a morning that changed the world — then this humble effort will have fulfilled its purpose.
Śrī Gurubhyo Namaḥ · Hariḥ Om # Peace Invocation Śrī Gurubhyo Namaḥ. Hariḥ Om. Om. May That protect us both; may That nourish us both; may we work together with great vigour; may our study be luminous; may there be no discord between us. Om, peace, peace, peace. Om Śrī Paramātmane Namaḥ — salutations to the Glorious Ultimate Self, who is beyond all words yet the source of every word; who is the silence behind this song and the light behind this sight.
"Refusing to let a difficulty in the Bhagavad Gītā pass unexamined."
This little book grew out of a simple, stubborn habit: refusing to let a difficulty in the Bhagavad Gītā pass unexamined. Wherever a verse seemed to contradict another, wherever a grammatical form looked irregular, wherever a philosophical claim invited a counter-question, the difficulty was written down rather than smoothed over. What follows is the record of that examination — a reader's honest questions and the answers he found most satisfying.
It is offered not as a commentary to compete with the great ācāryas, but as a companion for the sceptic who cannot pray until he has first understood, and for the believer who wishes his faith to be able to withstand a question. If it removes even one needless doubt from one sincere mind, it will have served its whole purpose.
The Bhagavad Gītā (BG) is one of the three foundations on which the philosophy of Sanātana Dharma stands. The other two are the Brahma-sūtras and the Upaniṣads.
The interpretation of the Bhagavad Gītā is deeply subjective, and so here a literal reading is offered first, followed by a logical explanation, supported wherever possible by etymology and the rules of grammar. This is the crudest, most first-hand level of meaning that anyone at all can draw from a first look at the BG. The interpretations of the ācāryas — Śrī Ādi Śaṅkarācārya, seers such as Jñāneśvara, and modern masters such as Swami Chinmayānanda — together with logicians and the orthodox and heterodox schools, have all adorned the BG. But these, as said, are interpretations; and questions about any interpretation can always be raised.
In this attempt I have identified the seeming flaws in the BG — philosophical and logical tensions, apparent grammatical irregularities, and the like — and shown how they may be woven together by the fabric of a single philosophy of Śrī Bhagavān, so that the whole appears non-contradictory.
No one can truly know what the author of the text intended. Hence no interpretation is simply “wrong”; each is just that — an interpretation. If an interpretation serves to support the philosophy already laid down, let it be so. If it helps a seeker explore the journey further, let it be so. If it serves to point out the gaps in a competing school of thought, let it be so. In the end an interpretation is only the opinion of the interpreter. At best it is an indicator, a finger pointing towards the Truth.
With this backdrop, let us begin to analyse the BG: (a) from a literal perspective; (b) as to what idea is expressed; (c) as to how comprehensively it answers a question; and (d) as to how far it succeeds in remaining comprehensive, meaningful and free of faults.
On the language
The Gītā is composed in Saṁskṛtam, a splendid language that can come very close to capturing the intent of the speaker through words. It is best felt in the exact language in which it was first conveyed. It is magical and soothing; its effects on the mind are worth discovering, and are today a live topic for researchers in neuroscience, psychology and acoustics. One can experiment upon oneself, with oneself, and dra…
The domain
The BG is a central text speaking to the whole of the human mind. The matters it discusses, as you will see, do not fit the definition of a “holy scripture” as that term is commonly understood. Hence the BG does not necessarily belong to any one “religion.” Since some communities hold Śrī Kṛṣṇa to be God, they may call it “the word of God.” Even granting that, it is hard to see how such a God could have spoken diffe…
The matter
Yoga — the yoking to this Bliss, the union with this Joy, the resonance with this divine melody of everlasting happiness, of Ānanda — is the subject. The whole description of this Yoga is made comprehensive across eighteen cantos. These cantos deal with a wide range of topics: the means to this Yoga and the goal called Yoga; the strategies we may use to outwit the mind; the demeanour of one who has reached Yoga-hood…
What does a human being apparently seek? At the most basic, bodily level: food, health, long life, and progeny, in that order of necessity. At the psychological level: peace, love, and the experience of objects and situations. At the intellectual level: knowledge of objects, concepts and properties, along with fame and appreciation.
What do all of these come down to? The need to survive, the desire to experience, and the desire for happiness.
When any of these fundamental needs conflict, it is the desire for happiness that overrules the rest. This is not easy to verify from outside; it is concluded only by questioning deeply and diving into oneself. For example: would I rather live extremely happily for ten minutes, or live miserably under torture for twenty? In the second case I survive twice as long — but at the cost of pain. The very wish to escape pain testifies to this, as does the basic instinct that runs from danger. Because it is hard to test externally, this remains a matter for the reader to settle by digging into his own psyche.
Would I rather experience this body, this mind, and the whole variety of objects under stress and pain, or remain unconscious, wholly oblivious to them, and know joy? The latter. This is easily verified in suṣupti (deep, dreamless sleep) and in semi-conscious or anaesthetic states. So the desire to remain happy overrides even the basic desire to experience the field. It is also why waking from a sound sleep to the sound of an alarm is so hard.
There is a close contest among the three, and the winner is not obvious. This is the question that tickles the deepest instinct in us. In my own mind I have settled it thus: the deepest wish is to remain ever blissful. Hence all human pursuits are, in the end, a search for this everlasting Joy (Ānanda). The supreme benefit anyone or anything can offer is this Joy.
The BG deals chiefly with the ways to lead a blissful life, uncorrupted by the tricks of the restless mind. It wishes to transform its reader — even unknowingly — into a better psychological state, and to gradually instil into the mind the Wisdom of the Ṛṣis, the Seers of Truth. This seed of Wisdom then needs the sustained nourishment of practice (sādhanā) to blossom fully into a fragrant flower of Life, spreading its scent of Joy everywhere. The BG also assures the seeker of definite, finite means to that exalted state of infinite Bliss, in which the transformed reader — now a Yogin — lives. This is the undiminishing, absolute power of the Gītā, the Divine Song of Joy.
People benefit in the way they approach it. This is the reach of the text: it can meet any sincere reader, and the interpretation the reader makes of it is what will carry him just so far. It is widely open to interpretation, and so to the corresponding benefits.
Arjuna
The strongest and mightiest warrior on the Pāṇḍava side has suddenly grasped the massacre — the near-genocide — that is about to unfold on both sides. He feels an anguish and sorrow so intense that it steals away his courage, and he is left depressed, his confidence shaken. In extreme agony he seems to give up, sensing the futility of this war, and of life in general.
He desperately seeks help from his best friend and well-wisher, Śrī Kṛṣṇa, who is also his charioteer. Then, struck by the thunderstorm of Kṛṣṇa's piercing words, he recovers himself. He wishes to know more and more of what his friend is pointing to. He asks for elaboration and shoots out an array of questions.
He seems to forget he has a battle to fight, and listens intently to the magical, mystical, mesmerising words flowing from Kṛṣṇa's mouth. But as he digs deeper he notices a change in Kṛṣṇa's tone. He is finally struck hard by the revelation of who Kṛṣṇa really is. He is left perplexed and positively aghast. This is the last time he will look at Kṛṣṇa the same way.
With so strong a realisation he falls quiet, wishing to know more of this unknown, unheard-of, unprecedented face of Kṛṣṇa. He exhausts his questions on philosophy, theology, creation, faith and renunciation, and at last falls silent, having received supremely satisfying answers.
He has regained his courage — to live, to do his duty, and to protect Dharma, the eternal, universal, all-encompassing law of Life — but now with a profoundly wise mind, one that no longer chatters, having been beaten at its own game. He picks up the bow and arrow he had thrown away.
With renunciation — not of the bow, but of the ego behind it — he stands up, more zealous than before, to do what he must. His confidence is back, now coupled with clarity of life.
Śrī Bhagavān
Śrī Kṛṣṇa is friend, charioteer and mentor to Arjuna. But he is far more than that. He has realised the Truth himself, and works quietly and subtly for the betterment of the human collective. He lets Dharma take its course; all he does is remove the obstacles in its path. He is a realised master who has tasted the Eternal Bliss through his own sādhanā and now revels in that supreme Joy. He is a Seer, a Knower of that pure, transcendental Ānanda called Brahman — indeed he has become That Truth. He is one of the rare avatāras who, having realised That, are liberated forever and yet move about in the world, helping their fellow humans to evolve. He has reached the summit of Delight and shines as the Light of Wisdom. Standing at the zenith of all Existence, he no longer has an individualised, selfish ego; he has merged into Reality. Yet he lives in the world pretending to be “just another human,” holding on to the little ego needed to exist as a mind-body being — an ego he has chosen to keep, in the interest of the world. Hence he plays a dual character in this Song: one seen from the vantage of Kṛṣṇa, the human king, friend of Arjuna, slayer of Madhu, son of Vasudeva; the other seen from the highest pedestal of Self-Knowledge, as the very God — Brahman, the supreme Consciousness, an embodiment of endless Bliss. He is Bhagavān — the possessor of the sixfold infinite splendour, Bhaga.
This is crucial, for the interpretation that follows depends heavily upon it.
Om Śrī Paramātmane Namaḥ — Salutations to the Glorious Ultimate Self
The BG recognises both the limitations and the potential of the human mind. She knows its pitfalls exactly. She knows the pressing, unanswered questions that rise in it. She knows how to meet them and to guide them as gently as she can. She seeks life more integrally, and weighs practical approaches together with the principles working behind the scenes. She knows how to play her part in this drama, and can contribute, in her way, to our lives. Like a mother, she first sees to it that her children are well fed with joy and are glad before they set out on the journey to the One Truth. For a blissful intellect is steadier, lighter, sharper and swifter than one weighed down by sorrow. Only then can it set sail to explore.
Having been born a human, what is this creature searching for so hard? Where does it search? Has it ever succeeded? How is this life to be led? Is there a purpose at all? What means can maximise its happiness?
What is the mind? Does this universe even exist? Am I existent or extinct? Where did I come from? What are past, present and future? What am I really perceiving through my senses? What am I interacting with — and is it real? What is “real” in the first place? What is life? What is sentient and what is not? Am I conscious? What is consciousness? How did all this vast matter, energy and thought come to be? Is anyone or anything in control of it all? Is there something beyond it? What is death — will I die? Who am I? What are these dreams I see? What is the unconscious, the sub-conscious? What is happening to me?
Who are these people around me — so like me, many of them familiar? Do I know them at all? What should I do with them? Should I engage, or remain apart? I feel hunger, thirst, desire, anger, love, joy, sorrow. What are these? Should I give in to them? What will this whole lifespan be? Shall I be reborn? Am I an accident? Is what the books tell me true — should I believe them?
What is belief? What is proof? What is convincing? What is logic? What are social, ethical and legal norms — why should I abide by them? Does it come from fear? What is fear? Why should I live, exist, or even wish to? What is pain — why is it unpleasant, and why do I flee it? What is experience? What is memory? Is there a “now”? Was there nothing? What do “this” and “that” mean? What is distance, an object, mass, space? Do I even need to know all this? Why should I know anything at all?
The list runs on in the head. Not all of the questions are answerable — and the very fact that some are unanswerable is not yet well settled in the mind. Many hints as to what may be explored are, of course, available in the BG; and above all it gives practical solutions to the “why” and the “how.” These are by no means to be used as a questionnaire, or a checklist with which to test others. They are to be explored by oneself, to oneself, within oneself; used casually, they lose their penetrating force. Even with all our advances, these questions remain unanswered to this day — and that itself reveals their nature. They are the most fundamental questions, seeking out the truth, and they lie very close to one’s own core of being. Truly it is Adhyātma — “of the Self.”
"What is the take-away? Nothing. Do not take away anything — include everything."
What is there at the end of all this juggling? Nothing — literally and figuratively. If you leave with absolutely nothing, not even in the mind, then you have raised the value of this text far beyond my estimate. What is the “take-away”? Nothing. Do not “take away” anything — include everything.
This was only another analysis of the BG, articulating the questions some may have on a deeper examination of it. Seekers may benefit by dissolving such doubts as arise in the mind. Enthusiasts and beginners may glide over the overviews to catch the “keywords” of each canto.
Critics can always benefit from any study, and there is ample material here for them too.
Devotees may find a new-found respect for their Beloved. It may not be a comfortable read for the fanatic or the blind believer, or the hater — yet even a little sense of uncertainty in a fixed opinion may soften them, if only a little; not necessarily shaking their beliefs, but perhaps bringing some clarity to their lives. People of a scientific, logical or philosophical bent — an open mind, that is — may build on these constructions or, if they choose, demolish them and start afresh. They may take some of this original textual material and search or research deeper. The original text is meant for humans, but its message is universal. This analysis has been just that: one step taken towards the Truth. May the readers, and the non-readers, reach the Ultimate Joy they are all in pursuit of. Hariḥ Om. Om Tat Sat.
Śrī Guru-Śaṅkara-arpaṇam astu — may this be an offering at the feet of the Guru and of Śaṅkara.
Sanskrit words have been rendered in the standard IAST scheme, so that long vowels (ā, ī, ū), the retroflex consonants (ṭ, ṭh, ḍ, ḍh, ṇ), the sibilants (ś, ṣ), and the nasals and aspirates (ṅ, ñ, ṁ/ṃ, ḥ) may be read with their correct sounds. Thus Kṛṣṇa, Śaṅkara, Bhīṣma, Puruṣa, Kṣatriya and so on. Correct pronunciation, as noted in the Introduction, is itself part of the practice. # Keywords in the Cantos #