This śloka gives the fruit of the meditation discipline taught in the previous verses.

In 6.26, Bhagavān said that whenever the restless mind wanders, it should be brought back again and again to the Self. Now He describes the result of such repeated practice. When the mind is trained, purified, and repeatedly brought back to the Self, a deep peace becomes available.

Praśāntamanasam means one whose mind is deeply tranquil. This is not a temporary calm produced by favorable circumstances. It is not the calm of getting what one wants. It is not the calm of avoiding problems. It is a mind that has become quiet through understanding, discipline, and repeated ātma-dhyānam.

The mind of such a yogī is no longer constantly agitated by regret, anxiety, desire, comparison, fear, irritation, or fantasy. Thoughts may still arise, and practical life may continue, but the mind does not remain in a state of turbulence. It has learned how to return to the Self.

Śāntarajasam means one whose rajas has become quiet. Rajas is the quality of restlessness, activity, ambition, agitation, projection, and outward rushing. Rajas is not always bad. It is needed for action, duty, service, and effort. But when rajas dominates, the mind cannot rest. It always says, “Next, next, next.” It wants to fix, acquire, control, prove, compare, or escape.

In meditation, rajasic disturbance appears as planning, reviewing, arguing, worrying, and wanting. The person may sit quietly, but the mind continues to run. When rajas becomes quiet, the mind becomes available for subtle contemplation.

This quietening of rajas is not laziness. Laziness is tamas. Śānta-rajas is alert peace. It is the condition in which the mind has enough energy to understand, but not so much agitation that it jumps outward.

Akalmaṣam means free from impurity. Kalmaṣa means stain, impurity, or inner blemish. These impurities include binding desire, anger, jealousy, guilt, fear, pride, hurt, and habitual wrong self-opinions. Meditation helps remove these obstacles by repeatedly revising one’s self-understanding. The seeker learns: “I am not the disturbed mind. I am not the wounded ego. I am not merely the body, senses, or roles. I am the consciousness in whose presence they are known.”

Brahmabhūtam is very important. It does not mean that the meditator newly becomes Brahman by changing into something else. Brahman is not sitting elsewhere, waiting for the meditator to merge into it. Brahmabhūtam means the seeker has owned up the truth: “I am not merely the body-mind. I am the consciousness because of which the body and mind are known.” The first-person identity shifts from anātma to ātma.

Earlier, the person said, “I am this body. I am this mind. I am this wounded person. I am this anxious person. I am this limited person.” Through śravaṇam, mananam, and nidhidhyāsanam, the person learns to say, “The body is an instrument. The mind is an instrument. I am the caitanyam, the awareness behind them.” That owning up is called brahmabhūta.

Then Bhagavān says sukham uttamam upaiti — supreme happiness comes to such a yogī. This is not a new pleasure imported from outside. It is not an extraordinary mystical experience. It is the benefit of assimilated knowledge: peace, fullness, fearlessness, and freedom from inner disturbance.

The happiness “comes” because the obstacles are removed. When rajas is quiet, when impurity is reduced, when the mind is tranquil, and when the person owns up Brahman as oneself, the natural fullness of the Self is no longer blocked. The happiness was not absent; it was covered by agitation, impurity, and wrong identification.

Thus 6.27 teaches that supreme happiness belongs to the meditator whose mind has been transformed. It is not sensory pleasure, emotional excitement, or blankness. It is knowledge-born peace available in a tranquil, purified, Brahman-owned mind.