Verses 2.31–2.38 are relatively straightforward, and their meanings are not obscured. Consequently, they do not require a detailed discussion at the level of the Bhāṣya.
Let’s move therefore to verse 2.39 : “eṣā te ’bhihitā sāṅkhye”. This verse …marks the conclusion of the preceding section and introduces the next, while simultaneously indicating the continuity between the two.
Meanings of the terms Sāṅkhya and Yoga
At first glance, the terms Sāṅkhya and Yoga, used in this verse may appear to refer to the well-known philosophical systems of Kapila and Patañjali. However, that is not correct for reasons discussed later.
On the contrary, the term Sāṅkhya here denotes jñāna (knowledge). This understanding is supported by the Vyāsa Smṛti, where the Supreme Lord defines Sāṅkhya as the realization of the pure nature of the ātman: “śuddhātma-tattva-vijñānaṃ sāṅkhyam”. Thus, Sāṅkhya signifies the rigorous and authentic knowledge of the Ātman.
Similarly, the term Yoga refers to an upāya, a means or path. This usage is found elsewhere in the texts as well. For example, the Bhāgavata Purāṇa states, “dṛṣṭā yogāḥ prayuktāś ca” meaning that various yogas, have been seen and practised by people for the attainment of śreyas, the highest good. Here, the word Yoga clearly denotes methods.
A natural question arises: why should the terms Sāṅkhya and Yoga in the Bhagavad Gītā not be understood as referring to the Kapila and Patañjala systems? There are at least four reasons.
First, neither the Kapila Sāṅkhya nor the Patañjala Yoga system has been accepted in its entirety anywhere in śāstras. In contrast, the Sāṅkhya and Yoga taught in the Bhagavad Gītā are presented as authoritative and worthy of adoption. Indeed, in this very verse, Śrī Kṛṣṇa declares that through this Yoga one becomes free from the bondage of karma. It follows that the Sāṅkhya and Yoga being taught here cannot be identical with the philosophical systems of Kapila and Patañjali.
One may object that certain doctrines within these systems are indeed acceptable. For example, the distinction between prakṛti and puruṣa in Sāṅkhya, or the discipline of mental restraint in Yoga. This is certainly true. However, the acceptance of individual doctrines does not amount to the acceptance of an entire philosophical system. If partial agreement were sufficient to legitimize a system as a whole, then even Buddhism would have to be accepted as an authoritative śāstric doctrine merely because it contains certain commendable ethical or contemplative teachings, such as detachment from worldly objects. Clearly, this does not follow. The acceptance of isolated principles does not imply the acceptance of the complete system from which they originate.
Second, the Bhagavad Gītā frequently qualifies Yoga as Karma Yoga, the discipline of performing one’s prescribed duties in the proper spirit. This conception of Yoga is absent from the Patañjala system. Since Karma Yoga is central to the Gītā’s teaching but finds no parallel in Patañjali’s philosophy, the Yoga of the Gītā cannot be identified with the Yoga of Patañjali.
Third, it is not merely that the Kapila and Patañjala systems are nowhere accepted in their entirety; there are also textual passages that actually set them aside. A notable example occurs in the Mokṣa-dharma Parva of the Mahābhārata. There, Sāṅkhya, Yoga, Pāśupata, and Vaidika (or Vedāraṇyaka) are explicitly enumerated as distinct systems of knowledge. Following this enumeration, the Pāñcarātra is uniquely praised as a special teaching directly revealed by Bhagavān Nārāyaṇa. When one system is singled out for such exclusive glorification after distinguishing it from the others, the implication is that the remaining systems are politely rejected.
At this point, one may raise an objection. If the Mokṣa-dharma distinguishes the Vedāraṇyaka tradition from the other systems, and subsequently glorifies the Pāñcarātra, does this not imply that the Vedāraṇyaka tradition is also being set aside?
The answer is no. Although the Vedāraṇyaka is listed as a distinct system, it is never contrasted with the Pāñcarātra. Rather, it is distinguished only from Sāṅkhya, Yoga, and Pāśupata. The subsequent praise of the Pāñcarātra therefore does not entail the rejection of the Vedāraṇyaka tradition.
Indeed, the sequence of the discussion in the Mokṣa-dharma supports precisely this reading. First, Sāṅkhya, Yoga, Pāśupata, and Vedāraṇyaka are introduced as four distinct systems of knowledge. The text then proceeds to describe Sāṅkhya, Yoga, and Pāśupata individually. Thereafter, without introducing a new competing category, it turns to the Pāñcarātra and extols it. The most coherent way to understand this transition is to recognize that the Pāñcarātra is not being contrasted with the Vedāraṇyaka tradition, but rather presented as consistent with it, or as representing the same body of teaching in another form. Together, they stand in contrast to Sāṅkhya, Yoga, and Pāśupata, which are not accorded comparable praise.
Accordingly, when the term Vedāraṇyaka is employed earlier in the discussion, it should be understood as encompassing the Pāñcarātra tradition as well. Conversely, when the Pāñcarātra is later glorified, that praise naturally extends to the Vedāraṇyaka tradition with which it is consistent.
There is yet another reason for understanding the Vedic and Pāñcarātra traditions as harmonious rather than mutually exclusive. In the Mokṣa-dharma, the seven sages known as the Citraśikhaṇḍins are described as teaching a śāstra on Mount Meru while being united in mind and purpose. The text explicitly states that this teaching is consistent with the Vedas. Interestingly, the Citraśikhaṇḍi Śāstra is understood to belong to, or to originate from, the Pāñcarātra tradition, a point made clear at the beginning of the Vaikhānasa Saṃhitā. This provides further evidence that the Vedic and Pāñcarātra traditions are fundamentally compatible. Consequently, the glorification of the Pāñcarātra should not be interpreted as a rejection of the Vedas. Rather, it distinguishes the Vedic-Pāñcarātra tradition from systems such as Sāṅkhya, Yoga, and Pāśupata.
There is, in fact, a fourth reason for adopting this interpretation, and it arises directly from the structure of the verse itself. Śrī Kṛṣṇa first declares, “Thus far has Sāṅkhya has been explained” and then proceeds to introduce Yoga as the subject of the subsequent teaching. If we examine the contents of the preceding section, it is evident that it primarily expounds the knowledge of the individual self (jīvātma-jñāna), and a little bit about the Paramātman to introduce the idea that individual self,is the pratibimba of the Paramātman. Likewise, the section that follows is devoted to the practical methods of spiritual practice. Thus, the internal structure of the Bhagavad Gītā itself confirms that Sāṅkhya here signifies knowledge, while Yoga denotes the practical path or method.
This understanding of Sāṅkhya as knowledge (jñāna) and Yoga as the path or means (upāya) should also be applied elsewhere in the Bhagavad Gītā, wherever these terms occur.
Meaning of the term Buddhi
The term buddhi in this verse requires careful interpretation. Śrī Kṛṣṇa says that the buddhi in Sāṅkhya has been ‘spoken’, and he asks Arjuna to ‘listen’ to the buddhi in Yoga. Taken literally, however, buddhi means “knowledge,” and knowledge itself cannot be spoken or heard; it can only arise in the listener. How, then, can Kṛṣṇa speak of “speaking” or “listening to” buddhi?
The term should therefore not be understood in its literal sense of knowledge, but in an instrumental sense: as that which gives rise to knowledge. In other words, buddhi here refers to speech or instruction that generates knowledge.
This interpretation gives rise to two questions. First, how can buddhi be said to be “in” Sāṅkhya or Yoga? Second, if speech is intended, why does Kṛṣṇa use the word buddhi instead of the more direct term vāk?
The first question can be addressed by the grammatical usage of the saptamī (locative). Here, the saptamī does not denote location (adhikaraṇa), but subject matter (viṣaya). Thus, sāṅkhye buddhiḥ means “the teaching concerning Sāṅkhya,” and yoge buddhiḥ means “the teaching concerning Yoga.”
To address the second question, let’s look at the connotation that the word buddhi carries. Had Kṛṣṇa simply used the word vāk, the emphasis would have been merely on speech. By employing the term buddhi, however, he highlights the function of that speech. The teaching is not merely a collection of words; it is instruction specifically intended to produce knowledge in the listener. The choice of buddhi therefore conveys not only the medium of instruction but also its purpose and efficacy.