 |
| Śmaśāna Sarasvatī — the Sarasvatī who sits among flames, giving jñāna that cuts, burns, and transforms, not just knowledge that decorates the mind. |
The Dogma That Sounded Like Wisdom
In Tantrik texts is is said that the journey of the seeker passes through three great moods:
paśu, vīra, divya.
Paśu is the stage of the bound one, the student.
Vīra is the stage of the hero, the one who dares to act.
Divya is the stage of the divine, where separation falls away.
There is an idea that floats through many Tantrik circles —
so quietly and confidently that it begins to feel like scripture.
The teaching goes like this:
In paśu-bhāva, your work is to gain knowledge — to study, refine, polish your understanding.
Only after this long stage of learning do you enter vīra-bhāva,
where kriyā — sādhana, mantra, action — begins to bear fruit.
It sounds so reasonable.
So safe.
Of course you should learn first, right?
Of course you should build a foundation before plunging into action.
And because it is repeated by sādhakas and teachers alike, it takes on the force of dogma.
You begin to feel that to hurry would be dangerous,
that the “heroic state” must wait until you have read enough, studied enough, become clever enough.
It is a comforting idea, because it asks for no leap —
only more reading, more concepts, more time.
And so you wait.
Sometimes for years.
Thinking that one day, when you are finally ready,
you will become the vīra and act.
The Lost Key
One day I went back to the root text.
And there it was — the line that everyone quotes, but never in full:
paśu-bhāve jñāna-siddhiḥ — paśv-ācāra-nirūpaṇam
(Rudrayāmala, Uttara-khaṇḍa 1.131)In paśu-bhāva comes jñāna-siddhi — the nirūpaṇam of paśu-ācāra, the habits and fetters of the bound state.
That single word — nirūpaṇam — is the lost key.
It means precise definition, clear laying out, diagnosis.
Not a vague sense of “I know I’m a paśu,” but a lucid seeing that maps out the very contours of your bondage.
It is the x-ray of the soul.
It shows you where the knot lies, how it tightens, what sustains it.
And this turns the verse upside down.
Jñāna-siddhi is not about becoming a clever paśu with a head full of doctrines.
It is about letting the light shine so starkly on your condition that you can no longer look away.
This knowledge bites.
It is the moment you stop reciting definitions of bondage and actually feel the chain cutting your skin.
And then the next verse strikes like thunder:
vīra-bhāve kriyā-siddhiḥ sākṣād Rudro na saṃśayaḥ
(Rudrayāmala, Uttara-khaṇḍa 1.132)In vīra-bhāva comes kriyā-siddhi — and then one is directly Rudra, without doubt.
Because once you have seen the fetter clearly, you can no longer sit still.
True knowledge does not leave you comfortable — it drives you into kriyā, into action, into the fire of practice.
This is how the paśu becomes the vīra:
not by finishing another book,
not by memorizing another commentary,
not by mastering every sandhi rule of Sanskrit.
For years you may be told that first you must perfect your knowledge,
read all the śāstras, learn the rare words,
argue until you can out-quote the next sādhaka —
then you will be ready to act.
But true jñāna does not wait for that day.
When recognition comes alive, it does not politely ask
whether you know the right vocabulary.
It does not care how many ślokas you can recite.
It grabs you by the chest and shakes you until you either wake or break.
The leap into kriyā is not an academic graduation —
it is the soul’s desperate answer to the fire that has been lit inside.
When the knot is seen clearly, when the diagnosis is complete,
there is no question of “am I ready?”
There is only the choice:
to stay bound, or to leap into the fire and be remade.
When Knowledge Becomes Alive
Abhinavagupta, the great Kaula master, calls his tradition anubhava-saṃpradāya —
“the lineage of direct experience.”
This is not just poetry.
It is the acid test of every teaching:
anubhava-saṃpradāyopadeśa-pariśīlanena
By examining the instruction of the lineage of direct experience, one sees that the Fullness present is none other than Lord Bhairava.
— Parātriṃśikā-Vivaraṇa 9
In other words:
a teaching is true only if it brings you to recognition,
if it makes you taste Bhairava here and now.
If it does not lead to direct seeing,
it has missed its mark — no matter how brilliant it sounds.
And then Abhinava turns to the hair-splitters, the endless debaters, the ones who stay spinning clever arguments:
kim iha vṛthā-vāg-jālena prakṛtopadeśa-vighna-paryavasāyinā?
Why spin a futile net of words that ends only in obstructing the intended instruction? — Parātriṃśikā-Vivaraṇa 9
This is the clearest verdict on dead knowledge.
If your learning does not make you burn,
if it does not push you toward recognition,
then it has become exactly what Abhinava warns against —
a web of words that strangles the very current it was meant to carry.
And this is why the “learning paśu” can become a trap.
One can spend a lifetime polishing concepts,
collecting quotes, refining theories —
and never once step into the fire.
Living knowledge, by contrast, is like a spark in dry grass.
It sets the whole field ablaze.
It leaves you unable to stay where you are.
It sends you to your seat, to your mantra, to your vow —
because now you know what must be done.
When Grace Moves, Leap
Abhinavagupta does not end with human effort.
He reminds us that even the courage to leap, even the kriyā itself, is not ours alone:
brāhmy-ādi-śakty-anugraheṇaiva sādhakāṇavaḥ saṃpannāḥ
Practitioners become endowed with the powers solely by the grace of the Goddesses beginning with Brāhmī. — Parātriṃśikā-Vivaraṇa 9
And then he points to the source behind it all:
parameśvaro hi bhairava-bhaṭṭārakaḥ … nija-śakti-niveśanayā brāhmy-ādīn svātantryāt karoti
For the Supreme Lord Bhairava, brim-full of all powers, by placing His own Śakti, out of His freedom, manifests the Brāhmī and the rest. What more need be said? — Parātriṃśikā-Vivaraṇa 9
This is the last word.
The fire that burns in you, the knot that is revealed, even the urge to act —
all of it is Śakti moving.
All of it is Bhairava, out of His freedom, placing His own power in your heart.
And when that happens, do not wait for more preparation.
Do not stall with another round of debates or books.
The moment grace moves, leap.
Because this is the moment the paśu becomes vīra.
This is the moment knowledge becomes flame and action becomes worship.
This is the only way the Self is truly reached —
not by endlessly polishing the mind,
but by letting the Current carry you until nothing remains but Bhairava’s own Fullness.
No comments:
Post a Comment