Krishna spends the Mahabharat answering questions.

The Mahabharat is not a book of answers. It is a long argument about how to act, conducted through people who are given impossible situations and judged on the quality of their reasoning rather than the outcome. Krishna is the counsellor inside that argument, and what he says has been read, recited and fought over for two thousand years.

Most people meet these passages as isolated clips with no order and no context. The purpose here is narrower and more useful: put the teachings in a deliberate sequence, label them honestly, add the background a newcomer needs, and get out of the way.

It is built for students, for anyone raised on these stories who wants to look at them properly as an adult, and for readers coming to the Mahabharat for the first time and wondering where to start. If it helps one person sit with a difficult question for ten minutes, it has done its job.

This needs saying plainly, because it shapes everything else about the project.

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• Nothing is for sale. There is no premium tier, no course, no book.
• No donations, no tip jar, no membership, no crowdfunding.
• No accounts, no email capture, no newsletter.
• No advertising trackers, and nothing that profiles you. Where you stopped watching is stored in your own browser and never leaves it.
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The running costs are a domain name and free hosting tiers. If this site ever needed money to stay up, it would come down instead.

The video clips are not mine and I make no claim to them. They are excerpts from a televised adaptation of the Mahabharat. All copyright in that footage — the performances, the script, the music, the photography — belongs to its creators, producers and rights holders. Nothing on this site transfers, licenses or dilutes any of that.

They are presented here for study, commentary and teaching: arranged into a curriculum, given written context, and offered without charge to anyone who wants to learn from them. No excerpt is presented as an original work, and no attempt is made to substitute for the complete series — if anything, the hope is that people go and watch it in full from its official source.

Nor is the music mine. The bansuri recording in the listening room is a cover, and a cover carries two sets of rights rather than one. The performance belongs to the musician who played it. The theme he is playing belongs to the composer and rights holders of the series it was written for. I own neither, and hosting it here changes nothing about either.

This page states an intention; it is not a legal opinion and it is not written by a lawyer. Educational and non-commercial use is treated differently in different countries, and a disclaimer does not by itself make any use lawful.

The 35 chapters run in a deliberate order, beginning with desire and expectation, moving through fear, weakness, relationships and decisions, into dharma, then the Bhagavad Gita, and finally the aftermath of the war. Read straight through it is a course. Used as a reference it answers one question at a time.

Chapter 32 is the longest by a wide margin — over two hours — and approaches the Gita through five people whose choices frame it: Arjuna, Bhishma, Drona, Karna and Shakuni. Everything else is short: most clips run under three minutes.

The audio is Hindi throughout. The English subtitles are burned into the picture, so they appear whether or not you turn captions on — there is nothing to switch.

The chapters are one way in and not the only one. Thirteen collections cut across them by subject — fear, grief, pride, what dharma actually asks — because the question you arrive with rarely respects the order a course was written in. There is also a quiz — ten questions a round, drawn fresh each time, in English and Hindi, a listening room for the flute, and the five foundations of dharma drawn as a wheel you can turn.

Almost nothing, and none of it about you personally. There is no account system, no login, and no cookie banner — because there are no tracking cookies to consent to.

Two measurement tools do run, both from Vercel, who host the site. One counts page views; the other times how quickly pages load. Neither uses cookies, neither follows you to other sites, and neither is told who you are. They exist so that a page that has become slow can be found and fixed, and for no other purpose. Nothing is sold, shared or joined up with anything else.

The one thing stored is your watch progress — which teaching you were on and how far in — kept in your own browser's local storage so that “Continue watching” works. It never reaches a server. Clearing your browser data erases it completely, and the Clear control on the home page does the same thing deliberately.

A static site: every chapter and teaching page is generated ahead of time, so there is very little to go wrong and nothing to attack. The mark in the header is original — a peacock feather whose eye doubles as a play triangle, since the eye of a feather is already a concentric target.

Every teaching is stored at three sizes, and the player moves between them while you watch. On a good connection you get the full picture; on a weak one it steps down rather than stopping to buffer, which is the difference between a lecture you finish and one you abandon. A great deal of this material will be watched on a phone on mobile data, and that case was designed for rather than tolerated.

Point at any card and a short clip plays, so you can see what a teaching is before deciding to give it your time. On a touchscreen, press and hold instead. Anything can be kept for later with My List, which lives in your browser and asks for no account.

The palette is borrowed from Krishna's own iconography rather than from the streaming services this layout otherwise resembles: night indigo, peacock teal, marigold. Red would have been the obvious choice and the wrong one — it reads as urgency, and none of this is urgent.