Krishna doesn’t give a shit about Arjuna, he’s just using the mighty-armed conch-blower to achieve his own ends, while author Vyasa uses both to teach you something about yourself. Right now, you’re like pre-rebirth Arjuna refusing to declare war on your loved ones, and I’m like dickhead Krishna telling you it’s all a dream and the only way out is through. (Of course, I’m also the author, which raises the old who-created-who question.)

Maya is the weaver of the dreamstate in which you appear to exist; it’s her palace of illusion and it’s her job to keep you in it. For you to get out, you have to get past her — again and again and again — and to do that you have to release anything she can grab onto. Whatever you’re attached to is how she attaches to you. Fond of your head? Guess what.