In plain words
and died, from that very point he begins his affairs again in his next birth. This truth is known from the words of the Gītā's teacher: 'Whatever state of being one remembers when one gives up the body at the end, that very state one attains, O son of Kuntī, being ever absorbed in that thought.' In accordance with the state of mind that arises at the moment the jīva leaves the dead body, a superior birth is attained.
What kind of state of mind arises at death depends on whatever state of mind one conducted oneself with in one's previous birth; a corresponding state of mind arises at the time of death. On close examination, one comes to know that it is a supreme truth that this arises precisely in accordance with the saṃskāras of one's Buddhi.
Though, in their general outward form, all human beings appear equally alike, their inner differences are many. Jāti means nothing more than the outward shapes of forms and of intellects — nothing beyond that. Vyakti means a thing possessing a form. Man, tree, mound, bird, fox, dog, cow, snake and so on — such words denote the genus possessed by that particular form. The individual is subject to destruction; the genus is not. Though the individual man perishes, humankind as a genus does not perish. Though a particular tree falls, burns, or is reduced to ashes, the genus 'tree' never perishes. A lasting genus is never totally eradicated, not ever; that is not how it is.
If we carefully examine the small matters of our everyday experience, this truth appears as direct, self-evident proof. Though, as humanity, the whole human race is one and the same, still, when it comes to choosing a person, we look at his qualities, his authority and his circumstances. For example, let us take the matter of a cow. In terms of 'cow-ness,' the genus of cow is entirely one and the same. But when we wish to buy a cow, we take note of its pedigree and its characteristics before selecting it, do we not? It must give good milk. It must be sturdy and attractive to look at.