śrutisārasamuddharaṇam

This verse is in praise of Lord Viṣṇu or Hari, and of Vyāsa.

Hari is the lord of the three worlds. The three worlds are either svarga, martya, and pātāla (the Heavenly, the Mortal, and the Nether worlds) or Bhūḥ, Bhuvaḥ, and Svaḥ (the Earth, the Intermediate World, and the Celestial). Hari is worthy of eulogy. The magnificence of strength of Lord Viṣṇu is well-known. It is He who enveloped the trinity of worlds in three strides.

The third quarter of the verse can be applied to Viṣṇu also, owing to His colour.

Sage Vyāsa is the great grandson of Sage Vasiṣṭha and the grandson of Sage Śakti. He is the son of Parāśara and the father of Śuka - as celebrated in the famous lines prefatory to Viṣṇu-sahasranāman (MBh: vyāsaṁ vasiṣṭhanaptāraṁ śakteḥ pautram akalmaṣam | parāśarātmajaṁ vande śukatātaṁ taponidhim ||).Sage Vyāsa is also known as Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyana, also because of his dark complexion: his body is described here as having the attractive colour of a cloudless, hence clear, sky. Vyāsa is quite like Lord Brahmā (Parameṣṭhin) Himself.

As a sage he performed rigorous austerities. At a very tender age, in fact, he set out for tapas, and his mother gave him permission on condition that he would appear before her wherever she wished his presence.

The world is full of action. There is so much that we accomplish through action. Apparently nothing is achieved through non-action. At the same time whatever is achieved thus also has an end. Kingdoms have come to ruins. Nothing abides that action accomplishes.The inevitable conclusion, then, is that what is permanent is not one created by action. "Whatever is artificial is impermanent" Cf. yat kṛtakaṁ tad adnityam.

The verse obviously points to what is everlasting viz. the Supreme Brahman. The realisation of the fleeting nature of the world inspires vairāgya, non-attachment. Vairāgya is indeed a prerequisite for the attainment of Brahman.

We acquire things through actions. Acquired things are lost, sooner or later. Loss of what is accomplished with great effort leads to sorrow. The world, thus, is full of sorrow. The mind attaches itself to things that give joy, not sorrow. The mind ceases from clinging to the world and the worldly things, once the realisation dawns that impermanent things cannot inspire permanent happiness.

Rāga is passion; virāga is one who is free of passion; vairāgya is the state or condition of one who is bereft of rāga. Nirveda is another name for vairāgya. nir+√vid is to develop vairāgya. niravidyata = attained nirveda. Vairāgya towards evanescent things inspires enquiry into the ever-abiding principle viz. Brahman.

The verse is but a paraphrase of the Upaniṣadic statement. Says MU 1.2.12 parīkṣya lokān karmacitān brāhmaṇo nirvedamāyāt - nāstyakṛtaḥ kṛtena

The fourth āśrama viz. that of the yati or the saṁnyāsin is the āśrama totally free of the shackles of worldly life, especially the familial ties that constitute a powerful bond and serve as a bondage to mundane life. It is common to see many wise men established in this fourth āśrama. Those who abide in this āśrama will have already overcome certain pulls. A deep discernment leading to nirveda (same as vairāgya), which in turn inspires yati-dharma (same as saṁnyāsa) are natural steps.

Not all of those who have become yati-s are knowers of the ātman. And so the seeker who has just become a yati ought to go to a yati who has comprehended the ātma-tattva. It is the knower of the self that can become a real guru. In order to know well, one ought to approach such a guru, say the Upaniṣad. MU 1.2.12 tadvijñānārthaṁ sa gurumevābhigacchet.

The word kavi in the verse refers to a knowledgeable person (though it commonly refers to a poet). pratipattum icchuḥ = pratipatsu desirous of knowing. Praṇipatya (prostrating) is easily reminiscent of the BG verse 4.34 tadviddhi praṇipātena paripraśnena sevayā.

Avināśi (indestructible) is reminiscent of BG 2.17 avināśi tu tad viddhi yena sarvamidaṁ tatam.

Even Vedāntic works in Sanskrit often have poetic touches. Saṁsāra is the cycle of births and deaths. It is very commonly portrayed as an ocean. Cf. saṁsārasāgaraṁ ghoram anantakleśabhājanam. Births and deaths constitute the waters of this ocean. Joys and sorrows continually assail us often/commonly, leaving no respite for us to dwell on deeper issues of life.

The way out of the saṁsāra is nothing easy either. Complete surrender to the knowing guru is alone the solution. Cf. BG 2.7 śiṣyaste’haṁ śādhi māṁ tvāṁ prapannam. Also Cf. Vivekacūḍāmaṇi 37 tīrṇāḥ svayaṁ bhīmabhavārṇavaṁ janān ahetunānyānapi tārayantaḥ. It is he who has crossed this ocean himself that can help others who wish to cross. Śādhi of the BG and anuśādhi here have the same sense; prapannam of the BG and upasannam also have the same sense.

The strong sense of identification of the body with the self, and the strong attraction towards worldly objects of pleasure engender each other. The two must first be forsaken so as to be able to abide in Paramātman.

Kośa-s, sheaths, are five in number. They are called annamayakośa (sheath constituted by the body), prāṇamayakośa (sheath of the prāṇa-s), manomayakośa (sheath constituted by the mind), vijñānamayakośa (sheath constituted by the intellect) and ānandamayakośa (sheath constituted of bliss).

We often tend to identify the content with the vestment, the core with the vesture. Kośa-s are covers for the Ātman, one upon the other. The annamayakośa is the grossest and the outermost and the remaining four go subtler and deeper, one encased in the other - the previous situated in the next.

What enshrines the self is not the self. Hence the advice not to identify the self with any of the five sheaths.

I and mine can sometimes coalesce. The coalescence is seen the more in linguistic usage. "This is I" we say pointing to our body, and we also speak of "my body". The feelings of I and mine can thus alternate with the mind and the intellect also.

These pairs of senses - of I and mine - are to be eschewed with respect to any of the five kośa-s - says this verse.

The true self is different. Situated in the heart, the Self constitutes the seer. The Infinite Seer is immortal, and not made of guṇa-s. The guṇa-s are three in number - viz. sattva, rajas, and tamas. The Ātman is beyond the guṇa-s. It is with this Ātman that one must identify oneself with.

The ātman is the witness to the self, and is unitary. However we perceive a multiplicity of ātman-s. And this is nothing but a consequence of the mediating adjuncts. The unity of the ātman is grasped once the adjuncts are done away with.

Two illustrations are offered for the same. There is but one Sun [in our solar system; there could be many more as per the research of scientists, but the analogy pertains to what we know by our own experience]. Common experience provides adequate examples.

Where there are several ponds, several Suns can be seen owing to the reflection in these different water bodies. The reflection of the Sun in several vessels of water is also similar. Nevertheless, the Sun is but one.

So it is with space. We can speak of the space contained in different pots. The more the number of pots, the more the space-units. But space as such has no divisions. Space is essentially divisionless. The adjuncts viz. the various pots show us different units of space. The adjuncts called the water-bodies acted the role of reflectors of sunlight, and hence the perception of 'multiple Suns".

The Ātman is but one, and the one is perceived as the many. Cf. BBU 12 : ekadhā bahudhā caiva dṛśyate jalacandravat.

Sva, the self, is like the Sun (dinakṛt) and one's own consciousness (sva-cit) is like the splendour (prabhā) of the Sun. It is this consciousness that enables one to know what is elsewhere. You are undergoing no changes at all. By you, undergoing no mutation (avikṛtena bhavatā) is all this (undergoing constant change) witnessed. Sita is from √ṣi, to bind. and means what is bound, fettered. asita = not fettered.

Note the emphasis provided by three sadā-s. You are immutable as you never got into any bondages first of all.

What does it mean when you say you perceive a pot? Through the sense organs, the mind comes in contact with the objects of the senses. Uparāga is being eclipsed and enveloped, coloured and tinged. As a matter of fact, when the mind gets the uparāga with the viṣaya-s, it gets "enveloped" by the object, or rather, "assumes the shape of the object".

We also know that we perceive objects sometimes, and not at other times. The same object, quite present there, is now perceived, now not perceived. The change is not in the object - which just continues to be present; but rather in the mind which now grasps it and not again. In other words, while there is no change in the object, the change is in the mind alone. The mind thus undergoes changes.

What is abiding and unchanging can be a witness to what is undergoing changes. The mind is going through modifications. This is evidenced by the fact that things that have remained unchanged (e.g., the pot) are sometimes noticed and sometimes unnoticed.

Had the mind been free of all modifications, the pot would have been perceived all the time. If the pot is perceived only now and then though it continues to be there, it only proves the modifications the mind is through.

While the pot is "in front of'' the mind, the Ātmic awareness is "behind" the mind. For, the Ātmic consciousness is continuously aware of the modifications in the mind. There is no moment when the mental modification is not known to the Ātman. This establishes that the Ātman remains immutable whereas the mind is through various modifications. The Ātman is the witness.

Had it been the case, on the other hand, that the Ātman is also undergoing changes, the mental modifications would have been known only now and then, not always. The absence of this proves that Ātman is changeless and abiding.

It was the mind that saw the pot - hence the mind was the seer with the pot in front, the mind is the seer, and the pot the seen. While watching the mental modes, the Ātman is the witness and the objects viewed are the mental modifications. The mind is thus the seen, and the Ātmic consciousness is the seer. While the mind undergoes so many changes, the self does not. The mind is now like this, and now like that, but the Ātmic consciousness is abiding and unitary. The mind is the object seen, undergoing modifications and is multiple. The Ātman is the opposite of these.

The external objects are objects of perception. None doubts that they are perceivable. On par exactly with the external objects are mental modes. Whatever is perceived is not self-illumined. Going by this logic, the intellect too is a perceivable object, hence not self-luminous.

Vipratipatti is an opposite view. Vipratipanna is one who has a contrary view. A-vipratipannatayā means uncontestedly, incontestably. Viditatva, being known, is the same as jñātatva.

The purpose of the previous verse and this verse is to show that buddhi is not self-luminous. It is only when light is shed on it, that it becomes visible. If a thing is visible, then it is clear that the thing became visible because someone willed to take a look at it.

What applies to the object applies to the mind too. The Ātman is the witness and the intellect is, too, an object to be looked at.

The faculties are, apparently, a part of the cognizer. This often makes us ignore the fact that they too lack self-awareness. This is to say that they cannot become aware, all by themselves, of things outside of them. On quite the other hand, they share the feature of the objects cognized. The objects are taken note of by others, and are unable to cognize things on their own. They lack self-awareness.

Exactly the same is the situation with the inner faculties. While we commonly say the mind (or the intellect) cognizes the object, it is not actually the mind or the intellect that is able to cognize. The mind/the intellect can itself be cognized. So then, they are on par with the objects of the sense-organs.

The mental faculty is somewhat Janus-faced. It acts as an interface between the seer and the seen. While it comes as a part of the cognizer, it shares a feature with the object perceived.

In the act of cognition, the faculty assumes the shape of the object cognized; at the same time it identifies itself with the seer and impersonates the seer as it were. The ahaṅkāra, literally means the sound of "aham" in inverted commas. The true seer is the self, but the mind acts on behalf of the self, and the vitality for this action issues from the self - ātmacit, that is. Cit is the same as caitanya.

Thus the mind assumes a dual role viz. viṣayākāra and ahaṅkāra: the shape of the object perceived and the shape of the perceiving seer. It is this versatile role of the mind that gives it a special position, power, and function - as the subjective and as the objective simultaneously.

It is not the Ātman who styles himself "aham". "Aham'' pertains to the mind, not the self.

Matiguṇa or the feature of the mind puts on an appearance of puruṣa-dharma, the feature of the being. Ordinary people cannot note the difference between the two. As a consequence of this, ātma-guṇa is taken as mativṛtti mental faculty. The words dharma, guṇa and vṛtti are used almost synonymously here.

'Aham' (I) in its true sense should refer to the Ātman. But people, in their ignorance, equate it with the mental faculty. Abudha-jana refers to the ordinary folk who are unenlightened. aham iti pratiyanti = believe [it] to be "I".

There is thus a superimposition. What pertains to, and is limited to, the buddhi is felt as pertaining to the self. The buddhi-features are perceived as the ātman-features. The buddhi is anātman, and thus there is a mixing up of the ātma and the anātman.

All the time we see people dealing with the objects of the senses. This is vyavahāra. This handling of the objects subsumes the feelings of I and mine: I do this and I get this; or I do this because I want to get this.

If on the other hand, had it been clearly perceived that doership and enjoyership pertain to the mind and not to the Ātman, people would have never indulged in the worldly transaction.

Jña is the Ātman, the conscient. Jñaguṇa is the feature of the Ātman.

Though untrue, the mental faculty mesmerises all. We come to associate with what is not indeed ours. The moment we realise this superimposition, worldly transactions cease. The recognition of the true "I" negates the imposter I.

It has already been noted that a pot gets to be known when the "mind-fluid" takes on that shape - of the thing it encounters such as a pot. Had it been the case that this alone could be the mode it can assume, we encounter a difficulty. For it is clear, after all, that the citi of the puruṣa, the essence of the knower, undergoes no change comparable. In other words, the puruṣa has no vṛtti, like that of the mind, such as can assume the shape of the object encountered.

Upalabhyāghaṭādi-nibhā is a single word; it is not correct to split it and take upalabhya as a separate word, ending in lyap. upalabhya-ghaṭa means the ghaṭa encountered. Upalabhya literally means "fit to be encountered". It refers thus to any object one may come across; "all things one may get to perceive"; the perceivable object.

Ava+√gam is 'to know'. The words avagantṛ and avagamya are derived from the said root. The former means the knower, and the latter means what is to be known. The two words are usually applied to the individual self and the objects in the world respectively.

In the context of the discussion in the text, the faculty viz. the intellect, is itself being looked upon as a thing to be known. So the avagantṛ is the same viz. the individual self, and the avagamya is the intellect. The former is the cidātman, the sentient self and the latter is dhī, the intellect or the mental faculty.

The issue being discussed is the basis of the worldly transactions. I and mine are at the basis of all transactions. The question that is being raised and discussed is as regards the locus of this basis. If neither of the two can be the locus, none can involve oneself in any worldly transaction.

Deliberation precedes action. The action is in the form of impelling the eye to see the visible object. This only follows premeditation: the thought "I see [now]" is followed by the action of seeing.

What applies to the eye applies to the other organs. The other organs are the ear and the others. Their objects are the sound etc. Just as the eye grasps forms, the ear grasps sounds. So it is with the nose, the tongue, and the skin - regarding smell, taste, and touch.

The sight of five sense-organs have their corresponding set of five objects of sense. It must also be noted that these very five objects viz the form, the sound, the smell, the taste, and touch - respectively constitute the properties of the five bhūta-s (or the "Elements") viz. the tejas ("Fire"), ākāśa ("Ether") pṛthvī ("Eaarth"), ap ("Water"), and vāyu ("Wind'). In particular, ākāśa is also known by the name 'viyat', its synonym. Thus, śabda is the guṇa (ākāśa or) viyat.

It may also be noted that we have here an indication of the correspondences between three pentads viz. the 5 sense organs(C), the 5 sense objects(B), and the 5 "Elements"(A). They can be tabulated thus.

A B Cākāśa śabda earvāyu sparśa skintejas rūpa eyeap rasa tonguepṛthvī gandha nose

There is no worldly business without the involvement of the "I". All worldly transactions involve the sense organs, and if the mental faculty is absent for any reason, the transaction does not get through at all. I-ness is at the root of all worldly affairs. Hence the I-feeling is easily, clearly, and plausibly postulated as causal to all worldly transactions.

The one key question that needs to be resolved at the outset is whether the I-ness pertains to the ātman or to the buddhi; to the self or to the mental faculty. A third possibility can also be there which should not be excluded viz. whether it pertains to both. This question should not be ignored as it pertains to ātmahita, the true interests of the self - which is to say it is nothing of superficial interest or value.

This also calls upon the inquirer to be on the alert here. One finds oneself at a dead end soon while enquiring into such questions. Mental lethargy takes over inspiring him to shelve this aside as an imponderable. Shedding inertia, one must take this question up in right earnest.

The word yatibhiḥ is derivable from yati and yatin - which may mean “one who exerts himself zealously (√yat)”, or “one who exercises great control over oneself (√yam)”. In either case one must spare no efforts in looking into this question. One will also have to invoke the various analytical approaches for handling this.

When we investigate the relationship between that ātman and the ahaṅkāra, there can be two possibilities: (a) ahaṅkāra is a guṇa of the ātman, (b) ahaṅkāra is an avayava (limb) of the ātman.

Had it been the guṇa, then it would in no wise be different from the ātman which is the guṇin. The guṇa and the guṇin are essentially the same, or at least no essentially different. This leads to a logical difficulty. The guṇin cannot perceive the guṇa. For, the observer and the observed cannot be the same. The observer cannot himself be the observed. Or even more logically, the observed cannot be the observer. Ahaṅkāra is the observed, and so cannot be the observer. The first possibility is thus ruled out. The second case also presents some difficulties. Had ahaṅkāra been an avayava of the ātman, then it should have been separable from the ātman. This is because the avayava and the avayavin are separable items. But ahaṅkāra is never seen as separate from (or as separable from) the ātman (which is the avayavin).

The guṇin cannot happen to observe the guṇa residing in itself (i.e. in the guṇin). A selfsame guṇin may have multiple guṇa-s; and one guṇa therein cannot observe another guṇa either.

If guṇin and the guṇa are different, on what counts can they differ? In other words, on what counts do things which are different differ? Two or three counts are usually recognized: space and content (and even time) - deśa-kṛtā bhidā and vastu-kṛtā bhidā as they are respectively called.

Now neither of such differences can be postulated between the guṇin and the guṇa. But such is not the case between the ātman and ahaṅkāra. In other words, ahaṅkāra cannot be conceived of as a guṇa of the ātman. And that is because ahaṅkāra can become a viṣaya, object, of the ātman.

This verse rules out two possibilities - (a) of the various guṇa-s of agni ever making themselves the object of one another; and (b) of agni itself making any of its own guṇa-s an object of itself.

Agni has several guṇa-s or attributes: e.g. brightness, heat, temperature etc. The brightness of agni does not have as its object, agni’s heat. No two guṇa-s can come to possess one another as their object. This is the first one. And the second one is of agni having as its own object, any of its own guṇa-s.

All these go to show that agni and its guṇa-s are no parallel for ātman and ahaṅkāra. Ātman can have, contrastingly, the ahaṅkāra as its viṣaya, object. The two are thus utterly different. Thus, ahaṅkāra is not to be construed as an ātmaguṇa/ātmadharma.

Kaṇāda has established the Vaiśeṣika School. He has designated joy and sorrow (sukha and duḥkha) etc as ātmaguṇā-s. But these impermanent features are shown as the features of something, that something also becomes impermanent. So then if sukha and duḥkha are ātmaguṇa-s, ātman himself becomes anitya, as sukha and duḥkha are impermanent. Ātman cannot be called impermanent. Hence they are not ātmaguṇa-s.

In the School of Kaṇāda, ākāśa is nitya, permanent. But this goes contrary to śruti, the Veda-s. There are several sentences in the Veda-s which speak of the origin of ākāśa. Ākāśa, therefore is anitya, impermanent. Whatever has a moment of origin/birth is bound to be impermanent.

The counterargument, therefore, that something which is permanent has features which are impermanent - that a nitya thing has anitya attributes - is thus ruled out. Therefore what was sought to be presented as an analogy is shown to have no proper foundation.

There is a discussion here of two items - puruṣa and nabhas, the self and the ether. Both are described as vibhu (all-pervading) in the Vaiśeṣika system. What is all-pervading can be said to have no parts (avayava-s). And whatever has no avayava can have no saṁyoga or viyoga (conjunction or disjunction) with another thing.

As the ātman is anavayavin (having no parts), there can be no question of its saṁyoga with manas. This goes exactly contrary, it must be noted, with the Vaiśeṣika dictum that pratyakṣa (or perception) takes place when ātman gets associated first with manas (which in turn gets associated with indriya, the sense organ, and this latter with the object of the sense). It is being denied here that ātman and manas can have saṁyoga at all.

We always go from the known to the unknown, from what is very evident to what is not so evident (from dṛṣṭa to adṛṣṭa). This will be possible when one holds on to the proper logic - by observing the pattern in things visible, and extending it to things invisible.

What we see in the world is the coming together of the pot and the rope - as in the common instance of drawing water from the well. The question to be studied here is why and how these two come together. There is a common factor that binds together these two things viz. the pot and the rope. The factor is that both the items are sāvayava, composed of parts. Extending this analogy contrastively, one can see that things which are not sāvayava cannot partake of getting conjoined (or even its opposite). Of the two viz. ātman and manas, the former is definitely not sāvayava. And hence, the very question of yoga (saṁyoga or viyoga - joining or separating) cannot be conceivable.

Hence it is not proper to speak in the strain of the Vaiśeṣika-s of any conjunction of ātman and manas.

Of the two, ātman and manas, the former is not made of parts, but the latter is. The former is niravayava (called here vigatāvayava), whereas the latter is sāvayava. It is improper therefore to speak of the conjoining of ātman and manas.

Consider the "relation" between two things of which one is niravayava and the other is sāvayava - for example of ether and that of the pot. The question is - Is it not possible to imagine, just imagine, that the ether has some portions, and that the imaginary portion has conjoined with the pot? The answer is - no, it is not possible. For, in regard to things imagined, the feat of their being merely imaginary is clearly present in our mind. Our mind cannot be divested of this notion for the truth of this is very clearly known even at the outset, and is therefore continually present all along in the mind.

The Lord is the prakṛti or the stuff out of which the entire world is made. That is what those knowledgeable in the Upaniṣad-s declare.

The Lord is to be pitted against the world, nevertheless. The Lord alone is permanent, and all else is ephemeral. The Lord is the sole Seer, and so, by implication all else falls under the category of the seen. Whatever is not the Seer, is then, impermanent. By implication, the faculties - the mind etc - are necessarily not permanent.

The opponent, here, is the Naiyāyika. If it is sought to be shown that ahaṅkāra etc are features of ātman, the idea here shows how it is just impossible. This idea was stated in verse 25 also.

The mind assumes, it is agreed, the shape of the object perceived. Even as the pot is seen, the mind assuming the shape of the pot too is perceived by the self. The self alone is the seer.

Paramātman is the puruṣa. He looks on at things that keep changing, Himself remaining unchanging. Two things that keep changing are witnessed by the puruṣa: the first is the mental mode which has come to assume the shape of the perceived object; the second is that aspect of the mind viz. the ahaṅkāra, which is what is felt as the seer.

The Seer is Paramātman, also called sat.

It is often the case that the jīva, the individual self, is spoken of as the seer. Hence the question is raised as to whether there is a mix-up. The answer given is that the Veda-s themselves speak in such a strain too.

The references here are to these statements in the Upaniṣad-s: 1. BU 3.2.11 अमतं मन्तृ अविज्ञातं विज्ञातृ The Self is what thinks, but not what is thought; it is what comprehends, but not what is comprehended.(b) BU 3.4.2 na matermantāraṁ manvīthāḥ You cannot conceive of the conceiver of the mind.(c) BU 3.7.23 amato mantā He is the thinker who is [cannot be] thought of.(d) BU 2.5.19 tadetad brahmāpūrvam This Brahman is the one without an antecedent [cause].(e) CU 6.8.7 tattvamasi You are That(f) BU 2.4.6 idaṁ sarvaṁ yadayamātmā All this is this self.(g) KU 2.4.10 yadeveha tadamutra yadamutra tadanviha What is here is itself the one yonder; and the one beyond is the one that is here.(h) KU 2.4.1 kaścid dhīraḥ pratyagātmānamaikṣad āvṛttacakṣuramṛtatvamicchan Desirous of immortality, it is the rare man of wisdom that turns his gaze back and beholds the self within.

All these Vedic statements bespeak of the seer as the Paramātman.

The various faculties are all impelled by the seer. And that seer is the Abode Supreme, which you are. This is what the Veda-s tell the seer.

There are many Vedic passages that can corroborate the idea that is being discussed viz. The one about the abode of Paramātman. Only a few, a very small number of them, have been cited here.

The Supreme, called Sat, is endowed with the eight powers or possessions listed famously as aṇiman, mahiman etc . The Sat which is being treated here, and yourself, are but one. This is what the Veda says.

The reference to Sat above is to CU 6.2.1 sadeva somyedamagra āsīdekamevādvitīyam. What originally was (= what preceded creation), is this Sat, a singular without a second. It is towards the end of the above passage that the words tattvamasi appear.

Ether (ākāśa) encased in a pot is no division of ether outside. Ghaṭākaśa and mahākāśa, as the two sometimes are called, do not bear a relationship of the part and the whole. Mahākāśa is impartite. What applies to the pot can apply to the other such spatial enclosures such as a room or hall, and what applies to the ether in the pot applies equally well here too.

Nor should it be deemed that the ghaṭākāśa is the mahākāśa itself that has undergone some transformation. Ākāśa cannot be fragmented, nor can it be deformed. Even so is Paramātman impartite and immutable. And so the seer cannot be labelled as a portion of Paramātman nor a modification of Paramātman.

All this is by no means false (ityamṛṣā).

The kamaṇḍalu is carried by sages to carry and use the water therein. When it is ‘empty’, it has ether within. The expression karakākāśa is similar to ghaṭākāśa. Thus, ākāśa gets the label karakākāśa owing to the extraneous container.

So it is here. The seer as Paramātman gets the label jīva owing to the extraneous condition.

The moment a pot is made, ākāśa fills it within. This analogy - of the creation of the pot and the immediate occupancy of the ākāśa therein - is the closest analogy that can fit the context of the creation of the world. For ākāśa was the first creation of the Lord. The other elements issued subsequently in a serial way, one from the other (as pointed out in TU).

Hence the creation of the world is spoken of as having ākāśa in the forefront. जगत् वियदग्रणि means the world has viyat (=ākāśa) as its leader (=agraṇi).

And soon after the creation, the Lord entered into the same, as pointed out in TU, again. (The relevant passages from TU are: 2.1 tasmād vā etasmād ātmana ākāśaḥ sambhūtaḥ etc 2.6 tat sṛṣṭvā tadevā’nu prāviśat).

The Lord is known by the names Paramātman, Sad, and Akṣara.

The passages that speak of the creation of the world, with ākāśa as its first and primary elemental creation also speak of a kind of pouring, or rather a full scale offer, of the Supreme Self into the world. In other words, the “stuff” of the world in no wise differs from what Paramātman is. From this commonality of content issues a sense of nondifference.

Obviously, passages portraying the processes of creation ought to be helpful to the sādhaka in some manner : what and how thereof must then be stated.

Before proceeding to describe something, one ought to know what for should whatever be described. There can be no point in describing something that hardly abides.

What is ever-abiding is what is known by the designation Sad. This has been very clearly established. What is also stated multiple times is that the universe, subject to many changes, is unreal.

What is known by implication from the very many Vedic passages is that there is no point in merely setting forth the creation of the world.

Certain statements repeat in the Veda. Reiterations are made with certain specific goals in mind. No such purpose is served by the mere narration of the genesis of the world.

Repetitions can make sense when they have the role or purpose of laying emphasis on some key idea. Such a key idea can only be the generation - in the mind of the listener, the seeker - of the idea of the Lord. Repetitions ought to have a focus. The reference here is to CU 6.8 tat-tvam-asi.

It was stated by the author earlier that it is the ātman [alone] who is of the nature of the seer, and that all else, stationary and otherwise, body or intellect - all fall under the category of the seen. It is that very Person, the Seer, that has been referred to in the Vedic passages - as Paramātman and as Sad.

The idea stated earlier has thus been established here, claims the author.

The opponent is giving a wrong example, and the idea conveyed by the same goes contradictory to two [famous and clear] Vedic passages. The opponent gives the example of the crocodile and water, which are totally different from one another. He cites this example to show that the witness to the intellect viz. the jīva, the individual self, is different from the imperishable principle viz. The Paramātman.

The right example, on the other hand, would be ghaṭākāśa and mahākāśa, ether confined within a pot, and ether unconfined, outside the pot. There is non-difference between the two, in contrast with the example offered by the opponent (which only goes to emphasise the difference between makara and udaka, the crocodile and the water).

As against the example given by the opponent, the author cites two passages from the Veda-s which bring out an exactly opposite idea. The famous passages are “tat-tvam-asi”, and “eṣa ta ātmā”, both of which are already dealt with.

The verse states the view of the opponent. The standard view is that the Vedic statement has two objectives - (a) awaken the listener in regard to the true nature of what is; and (b) removing ignorance.

As against this, the opponent’s view is that the Vedic statement referred to pertains to prescribing the performance of a karman which has as its content the worship of the Sad. This being the case, there is no way that the Vedic statement goes counter to my stand, he claims.

In other words, there is a basic difference in the very way in which the famous Vedic statement is understood by the opponent and the proponent.

The essential idea is that abheda-śruti-s are designed to dispel ignorance and enlighten the individual seeker; this is the standard view. However, the opponent’s view is that even abheda-śruti-s can prescribe karman-s. There could therefore be no contradictions, he claims.

We find many injunctions in the Vedic literature. What is the import of these injunctions? This is the question taken up here.

There are passages that speak of upāsanā (worship). Thus, we have the statement “Honour manas as Brahman” (CU 3.18.1 mano brahmetyupāsīta). Similar is the practice of deeming icons (pratimā-s) as divinities for purposes of upāsanā. Thus, there are clear injunctions that ask you to identify one thing with another, or rather identify one as another; and this is as a part of the act of worship, or even of spiritual inquiry. Pratimā-s are not gods, yet one is supposed to see them as gods, almost deeming one as equal to the other. More accurately, one is called upon to handle pratimā-s as if they are indeed deva-s.

In the progression of spiritual enquiry, one is again urged to have the view of Brahman in respect of manas. Brahman is the cause and manas is the effect. But the injunction is to look upon the effect as the very cause it came from.

All the same, one cannot miss the fact that in the context of the implementation of such dṛṣṭi-vidhi-s (injunctions where one is ordained to “look upon A as B”), one does not totally miss or do away with one’s own awareness (sva-mati) of the difference between the thing handled and the deva-dhī, which has been cited as the example in the verse. Obliteration of this awareness is the apoha of sva-mati, which in matter of fact does not, because cannot, take place.

Against this background, the argument of the opponent is that even tat-tvam-asi can be and ought to be construed as a similar injunction. With such construal, one can still be aware of the truth of the difference between tat and tvam, and yet treat this as dṛṣṭi-vidhi. Thus the pratimā comes to be looked upon as the deva; even so is manas looked upon as Brahman - and in both cases the aspirant is conscious of the difference between the two. So with looking upon tvam as tat. The difference that actually exists between the two cannot be wished away for the mind can be clearly aware of the difference even while acting as per the injunction to view one as the other.

Such Vedic statements that call upon the aspirant to consider A as B are called abheda-śruti-s. Such abheda-śruti-s indicate ordinances for the sake of certain upāsanā-s. They cannot however erase an existent difference between the two, and even the aspirant could invariably be aware of the difference between the thing at hand and the idea invoked upon the thing.

This is the stand taken by the opponent, the pūrva-pakṣin.

Another pūrvapakṣa is stated here. And this consists in taking the Vedic statement being discussed in a secondary sense, which is common in usage. Instead of referring to a person, (by name, say, Īśvaragupta) as brave and fearless in a plain manner, we sometimes say "This Īśvaragupta is verily the King of animals". This does not make him a lion.

Even so, "sad asi" is said only secondarily.

This verse deals with the issue of stuti, the same as arthavāda. In a way, even praise indirectly made is a secondary usage. ‘Tvam’, understood in the two examples provided in the first half of the verse, accords well with the statement of the Veda, for ‘tvam’ is expressly stated there. The two are therefore of a category (satattva).

It could even be perceived as words applicable to ‘Sat’ itself.

If he who has been addressed as ‘tvam’ has been of the self-same nature as Paramātman all the time, then how come he did not happen to realise his very own nature? The contingency - of the Veda endeavouring him to wake him up with so many words - would not even have then arisen!

For reasons stated in the previous verse, it could be averred that the celebrated statement does not speak of the jīva as being of the nature of Sat. There are of course other statements that are similar to this one. But then, all those statements too can be, and ought to be, interpreted similarly. And thus, advaita is not what is sanctioned by the Veda.

All this constitutes the pūrvapakṣa.

The pūrvapakṣin had attempted to place mano brahmetyupāsīta and tattvamasi on par with each other. There is a clear disparity between what is dṛṣṭi-vidhāyaka and what is svarūpa-gamaka. The former is an upāsanā-vākya and the latter is ātmānusandhāna-darśaka. The first enjoins certain actions, and the latter imparts knowledge.

In sentences such as mano brahmetyupāsīta, we have the injunction to mentally deem something as something else (here manas as brahman); and deeming X as Y involves the expression ‘as’ – which is conveyed by ‘iti’ in Sanskrit.

This pattern is conspicuously absent in tat tvam asi. There is no vidhāna, injunction here. It is for some purpose that X is deemed as Y in the former, where the difference between X and Y is different, though for the goal to be achieved, the act is enjoined. On the other hand, the pattern is A is [the same as] B.

Hence there is a difference in the very structure of the sentences. The two ought not be considered parallel or equal. Sentences of a similar pattern could possibly give rise to similar understandings. Not ones dissimilar to one another. “Treat/Deem X as Y”, and “A is B” are sentences which are dissimilar in structure.

It is not merely with regard to manas that there are injunctions - to perceive them as the very Akṣara (the Brahman). Similarly, viyat and savitṛ etc are not spoken of as sadātmaka.

It demands no extraordinary sense to note that sentences of perception (Construe/Perceive/ Pursue X as Y) and sentences of equation (A is B) are not to be construed alike.

There is a difference between the mud-pot relation and manas-sat relation. The former states an equation and the latter an upāsanā. The presence of the two items iti and upāsīta are evident in the latter; whereas a mere statement of fact is what obtains in the first.

The difference between a factual statement and an injunctive statement needs to be emphasised , one can say karakaḥ mṛd asti but we also say manaḥ brahma [ityupāsīta]. We do not get statements like karako brahmetyupāsīta or, for that matter mano brahmāsti.

Statements of upāsanā have not pretensions to statements of facts. Facts do not involve upāsanā.

What the author is pointing out is the difference between the actual Vedic statement viz. (a) mano brahmetyupāsīta, and a novel, hypothetical statement viz. (b) mano brahma. The latter also misses the two words iti and upāsīta. The presence of these two words indicates that what is being stated is plainly an upāsanā. It would not be a statement of non-difference between manas and brahma.

One may also consider what would have been the implication of the statement (b). Such a statement would have been on par with karako mṛttikā or kuṇḍalaṁ suvarṇam. In these two examples, the former is the effect and the latter is the cause. Manas, then, would similarly be the effect, and Brahman the cause. Thus, there is the kārya-kāraṇa-bhāva between the two.

Now, whenever there is an assertion of non-difference between kārya and kāraṇa, it is presumed that the kārya or the effect is anṛta, untrue, and the kāraṇa is satya, true. Applying the analogy here, we find that manas is anṛta and brahman is satya. The pūrvapakṣin, on the other hand, is saying that statements like “mano brahma [ityupāsīta]” would imply a secondary sense. There is thus a difference between sentences, like mano brahmetyupāsīta and tattvamasi. The two have to be analysed on different grounds, in different ways.

In tattvamasi we have two words viz tat and tvam in the same case. They are thus ekavibhaktika. Alternatively, tvam is avibhakta-vibhakti-yuta, being in a case no different from that of tat.

Taking along the lines of karako mṛttikā asti, where karaka is the effect and mṛttikā is the cause (and the cause is abiding and the effect is ephemeral); in tattvamasi, tat is the cause, and tvam is the effect. Applying the analogy, tvam referring to the jīva or the dehin (referred to in the verse as śarīrabhṛt, has to be anṛta or mithyā.

This is the question raised by the pūrvapakṣin.

This is the reply given by the siddhāntin.

In sentences like “A is B”, it is obvious that A and B are in the same case or vibhakti. The author points out that in the verse that it is only in a particular case that it can be said that one of the two is unreal. What is that condition?

Let us take the case where A represents the pot and B represents the mud. In such cases it can be averred that what is expressed by A is mithyā, but what is expressed by B is not. Why? Of the two, the pot and the mud, the pot is the effect and the mud is the cause. A is the abhidhāna or expression for the vikṛti (effect), and B is the that for prakṛti (cause). When A is stated along with B, A is perceived as false, anṛta. Ayaṁ ghaṭaḥ is A and mṛt is B.

But in the case of tattvamasi, tvam is not an abhidhāna of vikṛti whence it could be deemed as anṛta. In other words, the jīva is not a vikṛti whence it cannot be seen as anṛta. Therefore, there is no prakṛti-vikṛti-bhāva between Brahman and jīva.

Passages in TU and MaU speak expressly of the birth of prāṇa, manas, and all the indriya-s from Brahman; or of ākāśa etc from Ātman. The use of the Ablative case indicating the source is quite clear there. If they are yet placed in the same vibhakti, it can easily be made out that these - manas etc - are only unreal.

There is no Vedic passage speaking of the birth of the jīva from sat. On the contrary, there are passages that speak of the origination of mind etc from sat. It is this feature that enables the intelligent to differentiate between the jīva and manas etc.

The passages from AU and TU indicate the īkṣaṇa and the anupraveśa, the beholding and the entering. The latter is done under the label of the jīva.

The basis for the confusion that the jīva is a vikṛti of Paramātman is their recurrence in the same vibhakti. But the issue of vikṛti does not figure at all in Vedic passages relating the jīva and the Paramātman. (On the other hand, it is said of other items discussed earlier that they are vikṛti-s).

When there is no talk of vikṛti, there can be no talk of the unreality of the jīva.

It was objected earlier that there are cases of samāna-vibhaktikatva, collocation, which are situations of gauṇa-prayoga or secondary usage (or extended construal). The instance quoted in this verse is also of a similar nature.

The Sanskrit sentence “jalam lavaṇaṁ” can translate to “the water is salt”, but in actual usage would mean “the water is salty”. We refer to jala as lavaṇa because the features of lavaṇa have permeated the water. Thus, lavaṇaṁ jalam is another example of gauṇa-prayoga.

Now, it should not be construed that some features of Paramātman are there similarly in the jīva too, and hence that it is also a case of gauṇa-prayoga. Also, when a primary usage, mukhya-prayoga itself, works fine, there is no need to summon, or suspect the presence of, a gauṇa-prayoga.

Hence there is no extension of meaning. No Secondary Sense needs to be invoked here.

The possibility of Secondary Construal has been logically dispensed with. What remains, therefore, is the fullest equation between the jīva and Paramātman.

The two statements noted above occur respectively in CU and BU. The objection now raised is - if it is clear that there is no difference whatsoever between the jīva and the Sat - as evident from the idea of anupraveśa as jīva by Brahman itself, where indeed is then the need to make the statements of the two Upaniṣad-s noted above?

The question then is : what is achieved by the Upaniṣadic statements - anew and different from what is already known - in respect of the identity of the two entities?

The primary question to be asked is - whether even the minutest difference is intended at all. If it was, even if there are many sentences claiming the contrary, the differences just cannot be undone.

Qualities can be inherent or contingent. Contingent features are not long standing. Features that are immanent on the other hand cannot just be wished away. Invoking special utterances cannot really help here. Verbal declarations just cannot do and undo intrinsic features.

Words have limits. They serve well in describing things. But mere words cannot alter the very basic nature of things described. What applies to ordinary utterances can apply to Vedic utterances also.

Things cannot change their own nature simply because there are utterances to the contrary. And this is also very easily discernible, for things cannot keep changing on counts of utterances issuing from different speakers. There is no end to the speakers and things cannot go on suiting themselves to their words.

If indeed they do, there would be a logical fallacy called Infinite Regression or anavasthādoṣa or simply anavasthiti. Here there would be a situation of regression that will never end. This goes against the very principle of logical definition of things. Things undergoing limitless variation can never be defined and cannot be logically handled, and ultimately can never be relied upon. Meaningless and endless regressions are naturally frowned upon in philosophical/ serious literature.

What applies to human utterances can also be predicated of Vedic utterances, Vedic passages do not seek or claim to alter the essential nature of things. Reality does not alter to conform to somebody’s utterances, and Vedic passages are not meant, after all, to bring about changes in the very nature of things and alter their attributes.

In the Indian logical scheme, gandha or smell is the essential property of pṛthivī (or bhūmi) (or mud): gandhavatī pṛthivī is the definition given (in Tarka-saṅgraha). It is when some of the mud gets mixed in water that water gets the smell, whether good or bad. (And so with vāyu wind). But in common parlance, seldom do we, dullards, pay attention to this. We speak of water as fragrant (or otherwise), whereas what can be fragrant is the pṛthivī element in the water. Thus, there is a superimposition of fragrance on the water.

The objects of the sense organs are things we see/hear/taste/smell/touch. And the properties of these objects of the senses are, respectively, form/sound/taste/smell/touch. These are together superimposed on the self: viṣaya-s and viṣaya-guṇa-s are superimposed on the ātman. This superimposition is what men of mediocre intellect do.

The role of sentences like tattvamasi is, then, obviating this superimposition, adhiropa.

It was asked in the previous verse by the pūrvapakṣin as to what after all was the role of sentences like tattvamasi. The question is answered here.

Verses 50, 51, and 52 promoted the views of the pūrvapakṣin, and the objections have all been met with squarely.

This verse notes another objection raised by the pūrvapakṣin. Rather than comparing the jīva to the Brahman, it could well be a case of reversal: similarity with jīva is, then, predicated of the Brahman.

This objection is answered in the next verse.

The statement in respect of aṇiman as a feature of the ātman occurs in CU. If by a reversal of roles, it is argued that it is the similitude of Brahman with the jīva is what is being conveyed, then the very statement of Brahman being endowed with features like aṇiman etc would be a waste. Aṇiman stands for extreme subtlety.

It equally makes no sense to call Brahman as jīvātmaka.

A consequence of the reversal of roles by the pūrvapakṣin is presented here. That is to say, the consequence of presuming that the sentence tattvamasi construed as speaking of Brahman itself as becoming the jīva - is taken up here. It is stated that this would end up in an absurd situation.

The consequence of such an assertion fails to account in an agreeable manner for the refutation of the causes or the cycle of births and deaths for the jīva. This would amount, then, to postulating or representing Brahman as getting entangled in the fetters of saṁsāra. This is by no means a happy representation of the saṁśāric bondage of the jīva.

In the sentence under discussion, tvam and asi get linked first, and tat joins the two later. Tvam asi means “You are”. The natural question that follows viz. what you are - is answered by tat. On the other hand, it cannot be construed as being formed thus: tat asi, joined next by tvam. The verb is the central piece in a sentence, and the clue for the subject is given by the verbal form. What accords with asi is only tvam, as both are in the 2nd Person, madhyama-puruṣa.

What the pūrvapakṣin is trying to propose is an alignment of tat and asi, to which tvam is to be conjoined. This is a grammatical impossibility as the Upaniṣadic sentence is tat tvam asi, and no *tat tvam asti. The latter sentence alone can mean *”Brahman has become you”. But then, without tampering with the Upaniṣadic sentence itself, such a construal cannot be possible.

An assemblage of nouns, however vast or involved, can yield no sense that can indicate or inspire any action. The verb plays a pivotal role in a sentence. The verb denotes action, and suffixes like liṅ - which is to say the various lakāra terminations are added to the action word viz. the root.

The actions are given their final shape only by these tense/mood terminations.

The centrality of the verb is well-indicated here.

Pāṇini’s Aṣṭādhyāyī prescribes the Second Person for the root when the Agent is indicated by the word “yuṣmad”, “you”. Tvam is the Nominative Singular of this noun. While asti is the 3rd Person (Prathama-puruṣa) singular form of ‘√as’, asi is the 2nd Personal form. Hence tvam and asi align first naturally. Tad can get aligned to the verb only later.

Had the root been asti, one could have said tat and asti align first, and tvam figures in the next step.

Interpolations ought not to violate elementary grammatical rules, especially.

The verse reconstructs the Master-pupil dialogue. The teacher first says tvam asi and the pupil looks askance, and it is then that the teacher says tad asi.

When the teacher says “You are [indeed]...”, it strikes the pupil as a sentence of incomplete predication, and so he naturally looks at the teacher, looking forward to what fills and completes the sentence and the sense. It makes him articulate his expectation, and so he would ask “kim asāni, vada” “what am I, [please] tell [me]”. He thus looks expectantly at the teacher, and it is then that the Master replies.

Bearing in mind what is now pertinent, the teacher would say tad asi “you are That”. Tad refers to what is pertinent, and it is nothing but Brahman referred to by the label “Sat”, ever-abiding, as endowed with the guṇa-s viz aṇiman etc.

Tat tvam asi occurs in CU, 6.8.7. Earlier, (i.e. in 6.2.1 already, and even in the earlier portions of 6.8.7), there is a discussion of “Sat”. And therefore, the referent of the pronoun Tad is obviously Sat. Thus, if Tad=Sat, the equation implied now is tvam=sat. Hence Tat tvam asi = Sat tvam asi, You are Sat, the Brahman.

Tat refers to what is of the nature of Sat as depicted in the Upaniṣadic statement. The sound Tvam indicates the jīva. Therefore, the statement is tvam tat, which means tvam sat. It cannot mean the reverse viz. that sat is of the nature of the jīva. Saying A is of the nature of B is different from saying B is of the nature of A.

All the faculties - especially the mind and the sense-organs (and following them, the motor organs too) have a natural proclivity towards objects of pleasure. Owing to this being a natural tendency, the mind does not turn inward. And that is the reason why there is no possibility of knowing one's own self on one’s own. It is for this reason that the Veda-s teach and awaken man to his true, original, nature.

The Upaniṣad says that Brahmā (more accurately Svayambhū, the "Self-created") pierced the sense organs from inside out. The BG says that (like unto the wind carrying the boat away, so do) objects of the sense organs divert the intellect of a person. There is also a reference to regulating the intellect with dhṛti (steadfastness) (BG 6.25).

That there is no difference between the jīvātman (deha-bhṛt) and the Paramātman-Seer (paramātma-dṛś) can be asserted on the grounds stated above, no doubt. But there is further evidence too from the Vedic literature itself for this lack of difference between the two - as both during sthiti and sṛṣṭi : "Sat alone was, in the beginning" (sadeva saumya idam agra āsīt) (and other śruti-s).

In the Rāmāyaṇa Yuddha Kāṇḍa, a little before Sītā enters fire, Brahmā and other gods speak to Rāma, and remind Him of His true divinity, whereas Rāma Himself would say that he considered himself but a mortal, the son of Daśaratha.

Rāma knew his divinity, but pretended he was but a mortal. And He was promptly reminded by the gods. Thus, Rāma was the same Divine Principle prior to and subsequent to His being reminded by the gods.

In the case of ordinary human beings, they remain utterly ignorant of their divinity. The ignorance has to be dispelled by an ācārya (preceptor) through the upadeśa (instruction). Whereby the ignorance is removed. Being of a class with Paramātman is nevertheless the true fact about the jīva. The jīva has no knowledge of his identity with Paramātman; in the case of Rāma, he pretended this ignorance.

There is no contradiction, however, between being of a nature with Paramātman, and yet needing to be instructed or reminded of it.

The statement of the pūrvapakṣin is taken up here once again.

He had stated that the statement "tattvamasi" appears like a vidhi-vākya. Upāsanā-vākya-s are such statements of injunction. If that is indeed so, then there can be no true equation between the jīvātman and Paramātman. For, whatever comes as a vidhi-vākya speaks of a becoming rather than a being.

The author says that that is not the case. In the next few verses also, there is a response to this very question.

A perusal of the pattern of wording of the Vedic passages clarifies the issue. It would have indeed been an ordinance, had the seeker being asked to do the upāsanā of Sat; on the other hand, the wordings are to the effect that You are That. Therefore, it is no false claim that there is no vidhi here.

There is no verb like upāsva. The verb is only asi.

The issue is that in the interpretation of sentences, many times, we supply words as "understood", or as needed for completion of sense – as adhyāhāra, for example. But the problem is, such extraneous additions disqualify the text from being called the Veda. In other words, Veda is apauruṣeya, one that betrays no human hand.

There can be scope for supply of words from elsewhere only when the given sentence falls short of a complete sense. Does the sentence "tat tvam asi" sound incomplete that it requires an importation of an external word? You are thus importing a word expressive of vidhi when there is indeed no sanction for the same.

Tat tvam asi - is a straightforward statement. Should one try to import an extraneous word it will implicate one with double fault - first, of disbanding what is provided (called śruta-hāni) and the other, of annexing or devising an extraneous expression (called aśruta-kalpanā).

Hence there is no upāsanā in the given verse.

Everyone instinctively identifies himself with his body. This is perilous and is indeed the root cause for the cycle of births and deaths which is endless. And it is this that must first be dispensed and done away with.

It is the Vedic statement that bestows upon one the conviction that his self is no different from Sat. It is this that can conduce to the welfare of the person.

Apart from "tat tvam asi", there is the statement "eṣa te antaryāmyamṛtaḥ" from BU (3.7.3).

Both the statements indicate the true nature of the self. But for this enlightenment, everyone would continue to have an opposite perception – viz. that he is, after all, the body.

With the wrong conflation of the self with the body, there ensues ahaṅkāra which spells karman-s which result in joys and sorrows - all of which one has to suffer all along. Thus, the flow of karman has its roots in ahaṅkāra, and its fruits in sukha and duḥkha. One has to undergo these invariably, and there is no help.

The only help is the Vedic statement that reveals what the true nature of the self is.

Granting the stand of the pūrvapakṣin that "tat tvam asi" teaches the act viz the upāsanā of Sat, the author proposes to reflect upon the possible consequences. He knows of course that the stand taken by the pūrvapakṣin does not hold water, but by a temporary acceptance, he can show the unwelcome consequences such an assumption can lead to.

What is one's essential nature cannot be wished away, and cannot be extirpated even with extraordinary exertions. None can just give up or lose what is but his very nature.

Given this fact, it follows that any kind or amount of upāsanā cannot obliterate the fundamental nature of a person. Left to himself, man is born, lives for some time and dies, and the cycle repeats. The upāsanā or even Sat cannot fundamentally alter it if this is indeed his quintessential nature.

Granting once again that the embodied self does indeed become Brahman through its upāsanā, there is one consequence that shows contradiction. The “original form” referred to here is the cycle of births and death, which is as it were the inalienable characteristic of the jīva. The exact opposite is the characteristic of Sat. Consequently, the two cannot act in accord. Where there is a lapse and lacking in unanimity, there can be no true concord. The pulls are, in other words, in opposite directions.

Note: The defective readings na jahāsyati and na na hāsyati have been replaced by na ca hāsyati as done by Vidvān Ranganatha Sharma.

The pūrvapakṣin offers the alchemical example. The addition of rasauṣadha transmutes iron into gold. When we have such an example, why should it not be conceded that with the upāsanā of Sat, there will be a transmuting effect of converting the self into Sat? This is the issue raised by the pūrvapakṣin.

Alchemy is not indeed possible, but a delusion of the same is what is normally effected. The aureate sheen is merely on account of the overpowering of ferrous fragments by gold.

Add milk to water, and it no more looks like water; it looks all milk now. What exactly has happened? Milk has dominated the particles of water, and made it all appear like milk itself, overpowering, that is, the water particles.

So with gold coating on silver, or imparting the [look or] feel of gold upon iron.

What is artificial is impermanent. What is added from outside is not absorbed and just wears out. So it is with goldness upon iron, artificial hence not lasting long.

It could be no different with the nature of Paramātman if artificially imposed on the jīva.

We have the typical statement svargakāmo yajeta - He who aspires for svarga (“heaven”) must perform yajña (“sacrifice”). All the same, it is known that the svarga is no permanent abode for anyone. As the BG says, “Having enjoyed svarga-loka, even as one’s merits cease, one enters the mortal world”. Thus, whatever is accomplished by yajña (or for that matter, by any action) is no everlasting fruit.

Now if we posit something akin to this, the result will have to be similar. In other words, the amṛtatva (“immortality”) supposed to be accomplished by the upāsanā of Sat would have to be impermanent too - which is a contradiction in terms.

Hence mokṣa is not what is attained via upāsanā, nor akin to what is earned through yajña.

If the jīva and the Sat are essentially different in nature, their communion cannot indeed happen at all. And even if such a union comes about, it can only be short lived. Essentially different entities cannot be expected to share company for too long. Kindred entities alone can have comradeship.

If one pursues the upāsanā of the Sat, it is only natural that its results are ephemeral. It can be no different.

Abounding as it does in drawbacks, it is not endorsed by the intellectual elite.

For reasons stated in the previous verses, the statement tat tvam asi can in no wise be taken as advocating any upāsanā. Its role, on the other hand, is to nullify indiscretion. Indiscretion shows itself in two manners - of equating oneself with the body, and declaring it as his property. Errors in perceptions - of one’s own identity and of ownership - trouble all.

It is the errors in designating the “I” and the “mine” that are the root cause of bondage.

There are several statements in the Upaniṣadic literature that present the jīva and the Paramātman in the same grammatical case. And in all such cases the wise interpreter should steer his interpretation solely on the above lines.

The verse recalls the example of a prince who even as a child lost his parents, and was brought up by a hunter by a strange conspiracy of circumstances, and the prince grew up believing he was only a hunter. But there was one person who knew the details of the birth of the very prince. When he laid bare the details, the revelation led to the instant realisation of the prince as to who he in reality was.

On grounds stated above, dispel the delusion that animates the firm wrong equation of your self with your body. After divesting yourself of the wrong notion, get to know what is the correct idea viz. the true nature. The true nature of the self is the secondless principle which is imperishable.

The Imperishable Principle is not to be equated with any of the five Elements; nor with the guṇa-s of Prakṛti viz. sattva, rajas, or tamas; nor with the various faculties viz. manas or buddhi or the indriya-s.

In other words, none of the evolutes of Prakṛti can be equated with the Imperishable Principle.

The deathless Supreme is beyond the three antaḥkaraṇa-s; beyond the three guṇa-s of Prakṛti; and divested of the Five Elements viz. the Earth, the Water, the Fire, and the Wind, and the Ether.

The cause of illusion is the disorientation of “I” and “mine”. Rectificatory measures are suggested here: Discern as to whether it pertains to the true you.

All identify themselves with what they do in the wakeful state. What happens in this state is that the sense organs are directed towards the sensual objects. It is the intellect that directs these organs to so function. The intellect moves about in the field of the sensual objects deploying the sense organs.

All this, then, is what the intellect is bringing about, and therefore cannot be identified as mine by the self.

The experience of sensual pleasures naturally presupposes the existence and presence of the sensual objects within the reach of the sense organs of the individual. But there are situations where the experience is as of the sensual objects but in spite of the absence, mysteriously, of the function of the very sense organs.

And this happens on account of the vāsanā-s ("impressions") deposited by the sensual objects.

This kind of experience despite the cessation of the sense organs is what the wise designate as svapana [or svapna] ("dream"). The experience of the objects when the very means of apprehension of the objects has ceased operation is the state of dream being described here.

What accounts for this peculiar experience - of the objects even though the very channels of sensation are withdrawn from functioning - is the mass of impressions created by earlier experiences.

This state is called the dream state.

This state of deep sleep is characterised by these features. The intellect stands still; and the mind does not assume the shape of any object. Men who have mastered the essence of the Veda-s and are themselves free of desires have given this label to this state.

We are constantly alternating between the states of the wakeful, the dream, and deep sleep. Sometimes they appear in this very order, and sometimes they occur in very different orders.

Howsoever be the sequence, this procession of states belongs to the intellect, and not to myself. I am very different, being just the Turīya all the time. This is what one needs to realise.

Paramātman has been labelled the Turīya. The genesis of this label can only be against the background of the three states. The three are wakeful etc. What must be noted is that the three are conjured by someone of a dull mind. After all, there can be no fourth if there are no prior three states.

The sculpture of an elephant may well betray the emotions of an elephant; all the same none of the characteristics or actions of a real elephant can be evinced there. Neither is there the real elephant, nor are there the typical stirrings, actions and movements of a real elephant.

So it is with the label Turīya for Paramātman or for His abode. Turīya is a relative term issuing from the reckoning of the three states. These three themselves have no foundation in reality, nor hence, their attributes.

The world we experience consists of the five bhūta-s (“Elements”) that start from ākāśa and end with pṛthivī and consists of the objects that our senses run after. And the same five are the constituents of our body and our sense organs. The other components that the world encompasses are our manas and buddhi, mind and intellect.

All these are born at a point of time; whatever has birth at some point of time is not going to be everlasting. And whatever lasts not forever is untrue, too. The Veda-s themselves declare this truth through centuries of comparisons.

A trinity of dhātu-s sustain the body. Even so, a trinity of luminaries support the world. There is thus a parallelism between the microcosm and the macrocosm.

The Sun, the Fire, and the Moon are reputed to be responsible for the sustenance of the world. And this is discernible from śruti-s and smṛti-s (the Veda-s and texts on Dharmaśāstra); knowledgeable men know this; and it is not unknown to the ordinary folk.

All the same, the Veda-s have indicated that this trinity of luminaries is unreal, after all (which is to say, not destined to be permanent).

The reference here is to CU 6.4.1. It refers to the trinity of pigments in fire viz. the red, the white, and the black, and traces them respectively to tejas, ap, and anna. It is the latter trinity that is responsible for the creation of Fire; and by a continuation of the same logic, for the creation of everything in the universe. It is only these, then, that are abiding and hence real.

Rucaka is a special ornament for the neck, resembling a pendant, and is usually made of gold. This ornament has a particular shape etc., and gets to be called Rucaka. Being made of gold is the cause of the label too.

Yet, we discern rucaka and such items to be unreal; for, rucaka as such is by no means permanent. The moment it is dissolved, it ceases to be rucaka, though it ceases not to be gold. What was first noted and labelled as rucaka is now identified as but gold. In other words, the rucaka-nature is anitya, and the gold-nature is not.

Seeing golden ornaments such as rucaka, one easily notices them as gold. Even if the ornaments are dissolved, they continue to be noticed as gold. Thus, the labels or the shapes come and go; but the essential goldness never leaves.

The gold is the cause, and rucaka is an effect. The gist, therefore, is that gold as such is abiding; but what is made out of gold does not necessarily last. In other words, the cause is abiding whereas the effect is not. And the purport of the argument is that the cause is permanent, the effect is impermanent, or rather unreal.

What applies to gold and products of gold applies equally well to things like copper and steel, and artefacts made out of them.

The parallelism is drawn out in this verse. There is a trinity of material causes for the trinity of effects we see. The colours red, white and black are the material causes of tejas, ap, and anna, as seen earlier. And therefore, they are on par with gold which is the material cause of rucaka etc. Obviously, rucaka and similar items are on par with fire and similar items.

Prakṛti stands for the material cause. The same idea of the cause being real, and the effects being unreal is stated here via Upaniṣadic as well as commonplace examples.

The Fire, the Sun, and the Moon are effects; hence unreal. Red, White, and Black are causes; hence real. The Vedic passage referred to here is the CU statement regarding the triple forms of fire.

The massive bodies viz. The Sun, the Moon and the Fire are effects, and ultimately unreal. The subtle fabrics red, white and black are causes, hence real.

The verse extends the cause-effect relation to all of Prakṛti and vikṛti. A sweep of generalization is effected by an example settled in the famed Vedic passage. The example offered by the Veda provides a prototype and a more comprehensive generalisation may confidently be stated owing to its firm foundation in the Veda.

The author says that the Veda is making an assertion which after all falls in line with what is done in the world. If someone wants to demonstrate that the cloth is unreal, as against the thread which is real, he just pulls out the thread and shows it. The trinity (viz. the red, the white and the black) is similarly drawn out in order to show the unreality of fire etc (i.e. fire, water, and food).

The Vedic statement which refers to the impermanence of the fire for example, is apāgād agneragnitvam "The fireness of fire has departed".

The first quarter of the verse refers to the five mahābhūta-s. The grossest of them is pṛthivī and the subtlest of them is ākāśa. Nothing material escapes from this "net" of the earth to the ether". All this constitutes what is called aparā-prakṛti or the lower form of the Supreme Brahman. And what is apara is, in fine, unreal - the reason being, all that is vikṛti is unreal.

In vivid contrast is the parā-prakṛti of Paramātman. Being para, it is by no means unreal, for it constitutes the prakṛti of the universes.

The aforesaid illustrations, argumentations and invocations of Vedic statements - all go to prove but one thing viz. that the Para, stated as Sat is by no means unreal; and equally, all else is unreal. Further, it now stands proven that this world too is but a product, an entity that has come into being at some point of time, and hence is unreal.

Thus has it been shown that Brahman is real, and the universe is unreal.

Manas or mind is a created entity, too. And going by the very arguments presented earlier, it follows that the unreality of the mind also stands clarified. If mind itself is unreal, the functions of the mind are unreal too, and are therefore comparable to the functions of the sculpted elephant. An elephant may be shown as menacingly advancing towards the foe, but in reality cannot stir, and does not even move an inch.

Hence the world is unreal and the mind is unreal too.

The Veda has not expressly stated the origination of the mind either from Sat, or from ākāśa etc. There is thus no express statement of the mind being born. If it had its birth, it could be either directly from Sat itself, or else from the five mahābhūta-s viz. ākāśa etc.

It was shown earlier that whatever is born is ultimately unreal, and if it has not been shown at all that mind was born, how am I to infer or conclude regarding the unreality of the mind?

The disciple is requesting the preceptor to clarify so that he may develop a proper conviction.

At 7.26.1, CU states that the mind is born of ātman. Cf. ātmataḥ prāṇaḥ...ātmato manaḥ. This clarifies the issue. Born of ātman, mind is a product too, and hence shares the features of related items viz. being unreal.

The teacher now asks the student in turn, to tell him rather, how mind, which is a vikṛti, after all, can be shown as having no characteristic of being unreal.

MU 1.2.3 speaks of the birth of manas along with prāṇa, as too all the indriya-s (sense organs), along with the elements starting with ākāśa - all issuing from Paramātman.

As there is an explicit statement of “the birth of the mind”, you can ascertain that the mind is unreal too.

It is evident from CU 6.5.1 and 6.5.4 that manas is annamaya: the mind is chiefly constituted of the food we eat; and that it is indeed the subtlest aspect of food that becomes the mind.

What can easily be inferred from this is that the mind is too a product of the food we eat; and this is kindred to what is even more evidently known viz. that the body is a product of the food we consume.

Being constituted of the five Elements, the body is deemed as contemptible. And the mind is now discernible as coplanar with the body, as both are products of the self-same food. Annamayatva and bhūtamayatva are kindred features: food is made of the Elements, and whatever entities issue from the consumption of food are materially and essentially not very different from it. As a consequence, the body and the mind are both products of food, and if one of the two is unreal, the other is unreal too, and for the same reason.

All this leads invariably to the conclusion that the mind is an unreal entity, as much as the body is.

This verse suggests a formal syllogistic presentation (pañcāvayava-vākya) of the logic that goes to prove that the world is unreal.

Pakṣa is the subject of a syllogism (rendered sometimes also as the ‘minor term’). While inferring the presence of fire on the hill, the hill is taken as the pakṣa. “Upamā” is loosely used in lieu of udāharaṇa.

Now the pentad of formal argumentative statements would run thus:

1. Assertion to be proved: Elemental things (such as ākāśa) are born in time, and are hence unreal.2. Grounds: That it was present neither at the beginning nor at the end.3. Reasoning and Analogy: Whatever was not at the beginning nor at the end would be unreal - as is the case with rucaka etc.4. Application: Similar to the above, entities such as ākāśa etc are not present at the beginning and are not present at the end.5. Conclusion: Therefore, like rucaka etc, entities such as ākāśa are also unreal.

What has already been demonstrated is that things like rucaka are unreal. There is also the famous logical assertion that what is not present at the beginning and not present at the end is not present at the present moment too.

Therefore, it is only that which is present in all the three phases - viz. the beginning, the middle, and the end - alone qualifies to be called real; and whatever is otherwise is unreal.

In the example provided, in the beginning was just gold which was later turned into the ornament called rucaka. Upon dissolution, rucaka ceases to exist, and returns into just gold.Thus, all golden ornaments such as rucaka have a beginning in time and an ending in time. They have not been here all the time. The conclusion is that they are not permanent entities.

Whatever is impermanent is unreal. And therefore, rucaka etc are unreal.

Not essentially different is the fate of the world. The world has had a commencement, and would necessarily have an ending. The world has therefore not existed for all past, and would not exist for all future. In fact, it does not exist at present too, for whatever has origination in time is impermanent. The impermanent world, it follows, is an unreal entity.

This question is posed to the Vaiśeṣika-s. According to them the cause and effect are fundamentally different: the effect is born anew. This is in contrast to the position of the Vedāntin-s viz. the cause and the effect are essentially the same. While Vedāntin-s are called Satkāryavādin-s, Vaiśeṣika-s are called Asatkāryavādin-s.

When rucaka is made of gold, Vedāntins say, gold has just assumed another form viz. rucaka; but Vaiśeṣika-s would say rucaka, rather different from gold, is born anew. On the same analogy, the world is born, and will remain different from its causes, they argue.

The question posed by the Vedāntin against the position of the Vaiśeṣika-s is - how come the quantity or weight of the rucaka not get altered as against that of gold? A new substance should have new features. Why should there be a constancy of weight? The law of conservation of mass is adhered to even when there is this palpable change - from gold as such, to the ornament (rucaka or any other). If a totally new entity has come into being, why does it not betray features totally different from those of the original stuff (or the material cause) out of which it was designed?

The Vaiśeṣika has no answer for this - a question he necessarily had to answer if he stuck to his guns.

There are no two separate entities called rucaka and gold. One cannot isolate or separate one from the other. There is no rucaka seen as else than or differently located at, than gold. Things are different when they are seen distinctly. What is rucaka is nothing but gold while the reverse is not the case.

Gold abides and not rucaka; this is because gold is the cause and rucaka, the effect. The cause abides, not the effect. What abides is real and not what does not abide is unreal. Kāraṇa abides while kārya does not. Kāraṇa is real, kārya is not.

The form of rucaka and the form of gold are different. The function of rucaka is different from that of just gold. This being the case vikṛti and Prakṛti are different. And how can the two be apprehended as the same? How can vikṛti be grasped as the same is Prakṛti?

This question stands in need of an answer. Rucaka, the pot and the cloth stand in one category. Gold, mud and thread stand in another. The name, form and function of the rucaka (and other similar items) are different from those of gold (and other similar items).

Two things are the same when their names are the same - normally speaking. Things are different when they look different. If their functions are not the same, how can the two be equated? The commonality of one or the other of these leads to the things perceived as the same. Even a slight difference can make them look or be different. When there are wide differences felt, how can there be an equation of those items? There is no chance, then, that vikṛti be seen as essentially different from prakṛti.

This is the objection of the Vaiśeṣika.

Those who have eyes to see will have noticed this. Even as the worker is weaving a mat, the grass has already begun to look like the mat. So with threads getting to appear like the cloth. The same applies to gold and mud.

Those who are capable of perception can easily behold this with their very eyes. The transition from the state of Prakṛti to that of vikṛti is so evident, after all. As all this is a matter of even direct perception, whence no one can assert a vikṛti as essentially different from Prakṛti.

The vikṛti-s acquire different titles etc. Every different vikṛti will have a different name/form/ function. Our very eyes tell us, however, that the pot is no different from mud.

Ocular evidence itself vouches for the non-difference between the two.

The actor is different, and the role(s) he dons is/are different. The two differ in respect of their names, their appearances, and their functions. The two ought to have then been perceived as different. On the contrary, even the lay know that they are identical.

The Nyāya-Vaiśeṣika-s have earned a fame as the most intelligent. So they need to respond to this question.

There are things that are physical impossibilities. The sky-flower is an example. We all know what is sky, and what is flower, but none has encountered a “sky-flower”. For, it has never existed. It is a perfect example of something that is asat, nonexistent.

In contrast is the ātman, the exemplary example of what is Sat, the existent. As it has always been there, there is no question of it being born, for it has all along been present even before this enquiry began. Sat has always existed; Sat exists always.

Thus, what is asat can never take birth; and what is sat can also never take birth - the first for the reason that it can never at all exist; and the second for the reason that it has never ceased to exist at all.

The school of thought represented by Kapila, Āsuri and Pañcaśikha is what is known as Sāṅkhya. The Sāṅkhyan-s are Satkāryavādin-s - those who say that kārya, effect, was already present, sat, (“kāryaṁ sat”) in the kāraṇa, cause.

The Sāṅkhyan would never say, therefore, that what was takes birth. The stand taken by the Sāṅkhyan is clarified in the next verse.

What was in Prakṛti unexpressed has now gotten expressed in the vikṛti; Prakṛti is kāraṇa and vikṛti is kārya. The mud is the Prakṛti and the pot is the vikṛti. The pot lay dormant in the mud even earlier. Only, its features and attributes had no manifestation. When the pot is actually made out of mud, what originally was potentially has now become manifest.

The unexpressed attributes (in the mud) have now become manifest features (in the pot). Nothing, so then, that was not already has come to be anew. What was merely latent has now become patent.

This approach inspires the confidence of the Sāṅkhyan, and so, looking forward almost to an acceptance by the Vedāntin, he asks him whether he finds anything contradictory in what he is saying.

The issue here is one of attributes. If, again, the attribute was already present in the Prakṛti, it becomes improper to claim now that the Prakṛti came to be endowed with these attributes. Either way the Sāṅkhyan position seems problematic.

The converse of the argument presented in the previous verse has been taken up here. As per Satkāryavāda, the kārya was already in the kāraṇa, which amounts to saying that nothing new, in fact, comes into being. And the inverse of it follows too: viz. that what is is never destroyed.

If you say the attributes that were not there in the kāraṇa have now come to be with the kārya, it is an acceptance of what was not earlier. And this goes squarely counter to the celebrated Satkāryavāda of the Sāṅkhyan-s. And the moment the Sāṅkhyan concedes to the coming into existence via birth of anything, he is constrained to accept its death and dissolution too subsequently.

All this can lead the Sāṅkhyan in confusion as his concessions land him in the very Vaiśeṣika domain he wanted to counter. Thus, the irony is that the Vaiśeṣika is the sworn enemy of Sāṅkhya, and the Sāṅkhyan will have to curse himself for landing in the Vaiśeṣikan net unwittingly.

The moment the Sāṅkhyan makes a concession - in regard to the acceptance of new characteristics in the effect which did not obtain in the cause, he has unknowingly drifted to the school of Kaṇāda viz. the Vaiśeṣika, which itself he opposes vehemently. This is how a careless thinker sometimes plays into the hands of the opposite camp.

Things coming into being anew, and the existent things getting destroyed completely - these notions are the hallmarks of the Vaiśeṣika theory of Kaṇāda.

That it does not at all stand to logic has been amply demonstrated by me already.

Lord Kṛṣṇa is the greatest of all guru-s; as they say "Kṛṣṇaṁ vande jagadgurum". The BG constitutes the teaching He imparted to Arjuna on the battlefield bearing in mind the well-being of Arjuna.

In BG 2.26, He says what is not cannot be born, and what is cannot get destroyed - nāsato vidyate bhāvo, nābhāvo vidyate sataḥ. This constitutes an open refutation of the Asatkāryavāda propounded by Vaiśeṣika-s.

Therefore, nothing more needs to be stated regarding the invalidity and unreliability of the Vaiśeṣika school of thought.

It was presented logically that what is indeed asat cannot be born. Equally what is Sat cannot be born either. For, the former could never exist at all; and the latter has already come into being.

A Jaina objection is now raised in the third pāda, and is answered in the fourth. The objection is : why cannot something which is simultaneously Sat and asat be born?

Jaina-s ask this question because as per their Syādvāda (also called Anekāntavāda), a thing can simultaneously have seven modes of being, and accordingly, a thing can be at once sat and asat.

But this question is answered empirically by saying that such a thing has indeed never existed, as exhibits simultaneously the twin opposite properties of being Sat and asat. None has encountered such a thing.

This answers the objection raised by the Jaina-s.

The first half of the verse speaks of vṛtti (existence) and the second half of the possibility of the birth (bhava) of the same - of entities viz. those commencing with the mind.

The essential argument is if the existence of mind etc. is just impossible, so is the very birth impossible; for, what is spoken of here is not just mind as such, but mind as transcending both sattva and asattva. In other words, mind etc have to be either Sat or asat, and there can be no third mode whatsoever.

As what is stated in the latter half of the verse is based on the self-same grounds as what is in the former half, it is referred to as being easily comprehensible to all.

There are numerous Vedic statements e.g in CU and MU, that assert that everything is Brahman. This can be taken as implying that all else from Brahman is unreal.

Once it is shown that the mind is unreal, it has only to follow that the mental functions are unreal too. The states called the wakeful, the dream, and deep sleep - are all mental functions. It now ensues that the three states are unreal too. Further to this conclusion, it is only a step ahead that shows that if there are no three, there can be no fourth. Therefore, to call Ātman as the Fourth is also only relatively done.

The title Turīya, the Fourth, owes its very origin to the acceptance of the three states of mind. It has been shown now that the Trinity of states is but unreal. "The Fourth" - which depends even for its title on the trinity - then, is unreal, too.

The three referred to are functions of the mind, which has also been shown to be unreal. It is on account of this false imputation that even Paramātman has been labelled, relatively, that is, as Turīya, the Fourth.

Therefore, it is only relatively that Paramātman is stamped “Turīya”. The functions of the mind, being all unreal, are only comparable to the movements of a serpent. Only, the serpent here is not the real serpent we come across in the world; it is but an imaginary serpent. All this amounts to saying that the various mental states are akin to the movements of an imaginary serpent, which is to say, just unreal.

If items 1 to 3 are unreal, the one labelled 4 (on the basis of 1 to 3) can only be unreal. If Paramātman is labelled as the Fourth, it does well only in the realm of imagination.

On twin grounds of the pertinent Vedic passages and argumentation, I have demonstrated that manas and other entities are all unreal. And therefore it follows that there is only one real entity viz. the secondless and indestructible Paramātman. All else is unreal.

The idea stated in the verse is a paraphrase of a passage in BU (2.5.19). Paramātman has nothing that precedes it. What precedes can alone be causal to what succeeds. Hence Paramātman is causeless. What succeeds something is its effect. Hence Paramātman is the cause of nothing else. Thus, Paramātman is neither a cause nor an effect.

On similar lines, there is nothing exterior to nor interior to Paramātman. In other words, Brahman is impartite, spatially as well as temporally. All these ideas have their sanction from the Veda-s. So then, whatever is noted as else than Paramātman, just is not. Paramātman is the only real; all else is unreal.

The passage referred to is BU 4.5.13. The mass of salt is all salt through and through, and nothing else at all. So is Paramātman pure consciousness all through, utterly uncontaminated. There is nothing within and nothing without.

The Upaniṣad has given the analogy of solid salt. No other taste can interfere therein, whether on its surface or in its interior. In other words, this example precludes the possibility of any entity else than the one that is being spoken of.

It is Paramātman that is being spoken of, and there is little else than it. Comparable to the solid salt is the solid consciousness - unbroken, uninterrupted, unalloyed, uncorrupted.

The disciple is finally asked to identify himself with this: He is that very thing always.

The preceptor instructs the pupil to resort to that Paramātman - who is afar from the various qualifications such as short and long - as his very self. Paramātman never ceases to be.

There are six items that condition the body, the mind, and the vital air. Old age and death trouble the body; sorrow and delusion eclipse the mind; hunger and thirst pester the vital air. These are known as ṣaḍūrmi-s ("six waves"). Take shelter, O disciple, under that imperishable Paramātman, which is prohibitive of all attributes. Ironically, men lacking the power of discrimination take these very six as the features of their very self : they cling to these fondly! Eschew these gradually, and realise that you are the Seer and Seer alone! – says the preceptor.

This is a paraphrase of a passage from the BU. The snake considers the skin as no different from itself – prior, that is, to casting it off as the slough. Once cast off, the snake repairs to its hollow, never again looking upon the shed slough as its very self.

The realised jīva ceases to identify itself with all things exterior to its own pure Self, the pure Seer.

The snake thinks of its skin as its very self. Even so you are thinking of your detestable body as your self. This is on account of indiscretion, after all. The snake casts off its slough and so should you too shed this body. Prior to this however, you must realise that you are cid-ātmaka, of the very nature of consciousness.

The body-self (mis)identification is the most common ailment, and the most difficult one to overcome.

Mortals on the earth experience day and night. The Sun himself does not experience them. He is ever aglow. Exactly parallel is the case with the self. The presence and the absence of discrimination are features that cannot characterize the true self. The self is the seer ever.

Had there been the possibilities - of the presence and absence of discrimination and indiscrimination - there could be the possibilities of bondage and liberation. As the former does not exist, the latter cannot either; the two are never indeed possible. Contrary to the supposition raised earlier, I am pure and awake, and am a liberated Seer.

The reason for this is that there is no action in one's own self, and there is, indeed, none else than myself.

The world we see abounds in beings living and non-living, beings that move about and ones that stand still. They are full of actions. At the same time, mind and body too have their own continuous actions. I am merely a witness, a continuous witness to all of them.

And for this reason, know well, O disciple, that there is none but yourself.

A special analogy is provided in the last quarter of the verse. We see water in mirages. Howsoever vast the mirage may be, it cannot get flooded into a river that will have pools created thereby. Even so, what indeed does not exist cannot be treated on par with what does, and any talk about some interaction between the two is also not essentially real.

The master has dwelt too long on rather simple issues, and prolixity is not a great merit as it does not accomplish much. So, the gist of the whole precept may be given in brief: the three states viz. the wakeful, the dream and the deep sleep, are just not there in you. Imaginary as they are, they are just unreal.

Whatever is born is unreal. The world and the mind are unreal. This has been established on both grounds - of Vedic passages indicating the same, and sheer logic.

Else than yourself, O disciple, all is nought.

All the ideas stated here have been argued earlier. The verse is only a summary of the various features. Paramātman is what cannot be partitioned; what cannot involve in any action; serving therefore as neither the cause of something, or appearing as the effect of something either. It is infinite, and secondless. Its only characterization is that it cannot be characterized. That is of the nature of the witness and that you are, O disciple.

The words of Pippalāda appear in PU (6.7). The emphasis is on "there is nothing more to gather". This was categorically stated in order to dispel any possible feeling of much more remaining to be taught or learnt.

In this verse, the disciple expresses his gratitude to the master. He does it respectfully, bowing down to him first. His speech is reminiscent of the Upaniṣadic statements. You have helped me cross this ocean of existence, revered Sir, he says. The ocean is this very saṁsāra, the endless cycle of births and deaths, and visitations of joys and sorrows.

There is a beautiful metaphor employed here. Saṁsāra is the ocean. Births and deaths constitute the waters of the ocean. Joys and sorrows are the fish there. And the boat that is used here to cross the ocean is one of knowledge.

The gist is that it is only through knowledge that saṁsāra can be crossed.

The sense of reaching the goal and end of life has dawned upon the disciple. He is utterly contented and delights now in his very self. He has accomplished what he ought to have in life. He is now indifferent to the happenings in the world. He is now focused.

Even more importantly he is able to spurn the sensual objects. And this is nothing he has forced upon himself, for he has just realised that those objects are akin to mirage, ever drawing attention and even attractive, but never indeed assuaging the thirst.

He is as free as the master himself, and he now feels free and adequate to move about in the world in the company of his master.

Till my death do I serve you, said the disciple to the master, out of utter gratitude. The body lasts for some time - in proportion, that is, to the prārabdha-karman of the disciple.

The disciple has also the realisation that nothing more can indeed be done to pay his debt to his master.

The author says here that he has modelled his work after the Upaniṣadic dialogues. The title of the text itself is indicative of this. It draws the very essence of the Veda-s.

The phalaśruti of the work is also stated here. Whosoever comprehends this will cross the ocean of saṁsāra. He will not fall into the ocean of births and deaths which constitute the very waters of the ocean.

The Upaniṣad-s also speak of the "non-return" into the saṁsāric cycle of whosoever has crossed the ocean of saṁsāra.

The verse cautions that those who have no devotion to the master are best advised to refrain from studying the book – the reason being : it is to those who are devoted to the master, that the ideas here become clear. Reading without bhakti in the guru does not yield much benefit.

This kind of caution is given towards the end of many texts including the BG.

The reference here is to the passage from ŚU (6.23) where it states clearly that the ideas stated by the master occur clearly [only] to that mahātman, great self, who is greatly devoted to the Lord, and devoted equally to the guru.

The same idea is taken up in the verse and has been paraphrased with almost the same words.

The serial births and deaths constitute the swing. The swing has dual endings – of alternating births and deaths endlessly. It is my mental darkness, my ignorance, that caused me to get to this peculiar swing, the continuous movement of which I could not stop. The one thing that stopped the swing, and ultimately destroyed it once and for all, is the intense illumination from the Sun called my master’s intellect. My master is revered by many great sannyāsin-s. It is not merely the intellect of my master that is extraordinary. Even the feet of my master are great. Numerous groups of disciples took shelter under the same, and became embellished with knowledge, peace and humility; and they even attained immediate release from saṁsāra.

I bow down as long as I live to such a master of mine.

The verse occurs also as a dhyāna-śloka at the commencement of Śrī Viṣṇu Sahasranāman. The verse contains an extraordinary, cosmic, metaphor.