In plain words
He is a great scholar, but since he lacks the means and the strength to look after his parents, you should help him with some money,’ he said. The moment Upamanyu said ‘help with money’, pride beyond measure rose up in him. ‘I have not come for money. Never mind its being for money: I have come to hold a debate with you,’ he said. Like the serpent of Ahaṅkāra hissing and baring its fangs, this Ahaṅkāra went on growing still more within him. The promise given to his teacher in Bhāradvāja's āśram was one thing. But the promise given here to his parents was another. Coming again to the King of Kāśī, he broke both promises and set about behaving once more with Ahaṅkāra alone. But Upamanyu, beside him, was calming him. ‘Dear one, this is not good. The king is a great scholar. You are not fit at all to argue with him’: with this he went on trying hard to pacify him. But what he had in him was not sacred learning. It was nothing but impure learning. Showy learning. It was because he held on to artificial learning that all these qualities went on springing up in him. ‘Vidyā dadāti vinayam,’ it is said. Humility alone is the ornament of learning. But the King of Kāśī, with great humility and obedience: ‘Dear one! I am not ready to argue with you. When you have set your mind on arguing, it is not right for me to draw back. So come tomorrow morning at seven and take part in the debate, in the assembly,’ he said. The King of Kāśī himself put a question about what is called the science of the Ātma. When he put it, no answer came to him. With this he was badly humbled. Being human is not merely the body, the Manas, the Buddhi and the senses. There is one higher place that covers all of these. It is through that alone that all of these do their work. Within the answer that the Ātma itself is the basis of this, he went on putting the right questions. He taught him further. ‘Dear one! The whole world is like a mirror. As long as you hold this mirror before your face, your reflection is seen in it. But if you put the mirror aside, your reflection is not seen; but the original does not go. In the same way your body too is like a mirror. The life-principle seen in this body is only the reflection of the Ātma. Even when the body goes, it is the reflection that has gone; the original remains. It is the Ātma-tattva, the eternal Satya; failing to recognise such an Ātma-tattva and holding to the idea of Prakṛti, whose form is Avidyā: this itself is the great mistake,’ the king taught him well; and since what he needed was money, he tied up wealth for him in many ways and sent him off to look after his parents. The King of Kāśī also blessed him: ‘Dear one, your Ahaṅkāra will bring about your downfall. Give this Ahaṅkāra no room at all.