कालोऽस्मि लोकक्षयकृत्प्रवृद्धो लोकान्समाहर्तुमिह प्रवृत्तः॥
-Bhagavad Gītā 11.32
a translation that captures the depth of each term:
"I am Kāla, the inexorable force of Time itself—The destroyer of all worlds, the dissolver of form and identity. Fully expanded, I have risen in motion,And I stand here to gather all beings into dissolution."
Every word holds a world, and within certain words, entire cosmologies are encoded. Kāla and Jyotiṣa are not just names—they are revelations. Their very etymology contains the blueprint of what they unveil.
Kāla (काल) comes from the root kal, meaning ‘to count, to measure.’ It is that which sequences, structures, and unfolds all things in an ordered progression.
But Kāla is not just linear time, it is the active force of Time itself, a great devourer that moves ceaselessly, churning experience from the unseen into the seen. It is both creation and dissolution, the principle by which reality is manifested and simultaneously consumed.
Yet, what is Time to the one who cannot see it? A vast, all-consuming darkness.
This is where the connection to Kālā (काला, blackness) emerges. Kāla is often depicted as black because it is unseen, unconscious, operating beneath the surface of awareness. It absorbs all things into itself, obscuring them from view - our past, our latent tendencies, the patterns shaping our future.
The deeper currents of Kāla are always moving, yet we are rarely aware of how they shape us. In this sense, Kāla is not merely chronological time; it is the churn of existence itself, the psycho-metaphysical substratum in which we are embedded.
This brings us to Jyoti (ज्योति), the light of illumination. Jyoti of Jyotiṣa reveals the Kālā of Kāla, it is the discipline that makes visible what was once concealed, the method by which the unseen currents of Time become knowable.
The Grahas: Kāla’s Psycho-Metaphysical Forces
The Grahas do control us - because they are the structural forces of Kāla itself. They do not merely ‘influence’ us in an external sense; they bind the Ātman within the framework of Kāla, shaping perception, tendencies, and karma.
The Sun, the Atman, that is Consciousness believing itself sovereign, is not alone in this play.
When deluded by the phenomenal experience, the Sun seeks to establish a kingdom of self within a small section of space-time-consciousness, craving dominion, control, and rulership. It forgets its true nature, its cosmic purpose, and ultimately, its home—mistaking its reflection for its source.
But the rest of the psycho-structure, that is, Moon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, Saturn, Rahu, and Ketu (and the Upagrahas), push and pull the Sun into further entanglement, confusion, and delusion.
The Sun, in its search for sovereignty, finds itself caught in false ways of attaining peace—seeking security in the impermanent, ever-changing movements of Kāla.
It comes into a semi-conscious state of being, wanting to become, becoming, and then being devoured by Kāla. Endlessly repeating this cycle.
The Moon binds through emotional fluctuations and conditioned responses. It becomes hypnotized by its own reflection, caught in an endless loop of reactivity and seeking nourishment from the external. Instead of being a mirror to the Sun’s light, it drowns in the tides of its own instability, mistaking impermanence for reality.
Mars binds through impulse and conflict. It fights, asserts, and struggles, seeking power through action but forgetting the greater war—the battle against one’s own ignorance. When trapped in Kāla, Mars reacts instead of acts, believing force alone will bring resolution, never realizing that true strength comes from mastery over oneself.
Mercury binds through thoughts and intellectual formations. It builds constructs, weaves language, and chases endless data, mistaking accumulation for wisdom. Lost in its own mental labyrinth, Mercury seeks clarity but becomes the very noise it wants to escape, forgetting that true intelligence is not just knowing—but seeing through.
Jupiter binds through beliefs and meaning structures. It expands, seeks truth, and creates grand narratives, but when caught in Kāla, it mistakes belief for wisdom. It clings to dogma, ideology, and external teachers, failing to recognize that the highest guru is within.
Venus binds through desire and relational entanglements. It seeks harmony, pleasure, and fulfillment, but when lost in Kāla, it chases satiation rather than true fulfillment. It confuses possession with love, aesthetic with essence, never realizing that real beauty is in surrender, not ownership.
Saturn binds through limitation, suffering, and inevitability. It enforces karmic weight, making the individual feel trapped by past actions and the constraints of form. When deluded, Saturn becomes the great prison guard of Time, convincing one that life is nothing but toil, duty, and restriction—until one learns that discipline is the key, not the cage.
Rahu and Ketu bind through illusion, obsession, past-life imprints, and the craving for liberation. Rahu drags the individual toward insatiable hunger, compelling them to chase what was left unfulfilled, creating an illusion of lack. Ketu, in contrast, severs ties prematurely, seeking detachment without wisdom. Together, they create the illusion of "this is not enough" and "this is meaningless", ensuring that the Ātman is tossed between craving and rejection, until it awakens.
Yet, somewhere in this churn of psycho-metaphysical bondage, an intervention occurs. A spark, a moment of grace, a glimpse of clarity—something shifts. The Sun wakes up just a little. It isn’t able to fully go back to its old ways. The rest of the psycho-structure still pulls at it, still drags it back into the tides of Kāla—but something has changed. That glimpse of light refuses to be forgotten. Through the tides of time, effort, and grace, the Sun—slowly, painfully, inevitably—finds its way home.
It is only then that the narcissistic psychodrama of Kāla begins to unravel. The Sun stops trying to rule a fraction of space-time and remembers that it was never separate to begin with.
Seeing Through Kāla’s Darkness
Kāla is not merely a passive measurement of moments—it is that which devours. It is the hidden force that churns existence forward, dissolving all things into its abyss. It does not wait for our recognition; it does not require our understanding.
It simply moves, consumes, and reshapes. And if one does not see Kāla, one is simply carried by it, unaware of the patterns being played out.
This is where Jyotiṣa becomes essential. If Kāla is the churn of existence, Jyotiṣa is the light that reveals its movement. The Grahas do not free us—but they show us the patterns of our bondage. They do not remove Kāla—but they illuminate its rhythm so that we may move with awareness rather than compulsion.
Thus, Kāla is the blackness of the unknown, and Jyotiṣa is the light that makes it known. But to see Kāla is not a choice—it is a necessity.
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