"adharmābhibhavāt kṛiṣhṇa praduṣhyanti kula-striyaḥ
strīṣhu duṣhṭāsu vārṣhṇeya jāyate varṇa-saṅkaraḥ"
Shuka stopped writing, and respectfully placed the palm leaf and stylus beside him on the mat.
Vyasa rishi who was dictating the Gita looked at his son. His eyes revealed a tinge of annoyance.
Shuka folded his palms and said, "Father forgive me for interrupting you, but with your permission, I wanted to raise some concerns."
Vyasa rishi nodded, "Go on."
"Father, you had said to me in the beginning, that this book is meant to be relevant for all time."
"Yes, that is true."
"But you just made me write: 'When unrighteousness prevails, O Krishna, the women of the clan become corrupt; when women become corrupt, there arises intermixture of classes'."
"So?"
"But I can clearly see a distant future, when the very mention of varna or classes may become controversial. So will it not undermine the contents of this whole book?"
Vyasa smiled and said, "What you say is true. Now close your eyes and tell me what else you see in that distant future."
Shuka closed his eyes and said, "I see men and women travel in horseless carriages driven by machines and flying in big birds made from shiny metal alloys."
Vyasa said, "Now you can open your eyes."
It took a bit for Shuka's eyes to adjust to the dim light of the hermit cottage.
"Son, I have mentioned only horse-carriages, bows, arrows and clubs in my book. I have of course taken some poetic liberties to add fantasy elements in it. In the same way I have described the societal reality as it exists today."
Vyasa briefly paused and then continued, "Man is intellectually limited by the historical context in which he finds himself in."
"But father, who will tell them that stories should always be read and interpreted in their historical context?" Shuka asked.
"The consciousness of freedom in history moves from despotism, to a sense that freedom is a privilege of a few, to a robust notion that humanity is free in and of itself. The History of the world is none other than the progress of the consciousness of freedom," Vyasa replied.
After a brief pause Vyasa added, "These are not my words."
Shuka closed his eyes in meditation and then said, "Words of Hegel!"
"Yes," Vyasa said with a smile.
Shuka opened his eyes and slowly picked up the palm leaf and stylus from the mat.