Parātrīṃśikā Vivaraṇa (Part 48): Aham, Visarga, and the Human Unfolding of Bhairava

A human body is superimposed upon the Śrī yantra, suggesting the human form as the living mandala where visarga, kuṇḍalinī, and return to the bindu are enacted.

Abhinava now takes the previous chunk to its next necessary depth. He had just shown that the great secret hidden in the mahāguhā is not inert concealment, but a living process: visarga, the blissful outpouring of Kaulika freedom. From that outflow the world appears ever-fresh; through bhāvanā the reverse movement of reabsorption is attained; and all of this rests on the deeper truth that knower, means of knowledge, and known are one illumination. Finally, that entire movement was gathered back into the secret as one’s own camatkāra, into uninterrupted Bhairava-radiance, and then into aham as the natural wonder of parā-vāk and mantra-vīrya. The next step therefore arises naturally: if the true aham is the repose of light in itself, how does that self-reposed Bhairava become the source of expansion, visarga, kuṇḍalinī, manifestation, and again the human locus of return? This is the question the present chunk unfolds. It begins from aham as ātma-viśrānti, then shows how that very repose becomes dynamic outpouring without ceasing to be itself.

Aham is the repose of light in itself

yathoktam

prakāśasyātmaviśrāntirahaṃbhāvo hi kīrtitaḥ |

“As it has been said: the state of ‘I’ is indeed declared to be the repose of luminosity in itself.”

The whole prior movement had ended in aham — not the contracted ego, but the true “I” as the natural, non-artificial heart of self-aware consciousness. Now he seals that in one clean formula: aham-bhāva is the ātma-viśrānti of prakāśa. The “I” is the resting of light in itself.

This is a very important, because it prevents a crude reading of everything that follows. He is about to speak again of visarga, spanda, expansion, kuṇḍalinī, bindu, manifestation, and human emergence. But before that, he reminds the reader that the true base is not movement first. It is repose. Not inertness, but repose — light resting in itself without ceasing to be light.

That follows the previous chunk exactly. There, uninterrupted Bhairava-radiance culminated in ātma-vimarśa-viśrānti, repose in self-awareness, and that repose was then named as the true aham. Here the same point is stated in an even more stripped form. The “I” is not something added to luminosity from outside. It is luminosity’s own resting in itself. That is why aham, in Abhinava’s hands, is never merely a psychological structure. It is ontological. It names consciousness gathered into its own center.

The phrase is also precise in another way. He does not say merely that “light knows itself,” though that is implied. He says it rests in itself. That word matters. There is completion in it, satisfaction, non-seeking, non-dispersion. The true “I” is not a reaching outward for identity. It is the end of that reaching. It is luminosity no longer exiled into objects, roles, or oppositions, but returned to itself.

So this point serves as a doctrinal anchor. Before the text reopens the question of manifestation, it tells you what must not be forgotten: the source is aham as self-repose. Without that, everything that follows will be misread as mere cosmology or subtle energetics. With it, one can see that even visarga itself will be the movement of a light that never ceases to rest in itself.

This very aham is the deepest secret: Bhairava, though resting in unchanged Anuttara, becomes visarga

iti | tadeva guhyam atirahasyaṃ tathāhi - sṛṣṭikrameṇa yathā
avikṛtānuttaradhruvarūpaviśrānto bhairavabhaṭṭārakaḥ sakalakalājālajīvanabhūtaḥ
sarvasya ādisiddho'kalātmakaḥ sa eva

“And this indeed is the secret, the supreme mystery. For thus: in the sequence of creation, that very Blessed Bhairava — reposed in the unchanged, stable nature of Anuttara, the life-ground of the whole network of kalās, primordially accomplished as the source of all, and of the nature of the partless — that very one…”

Abhinava now takes the formula of the previous point — aham as the repose of light in itself — and declares that this is not just one doctrine among others, but the secret, indeed the supreme mystery. That matters, because he is about to show something very difficult: how the one who rests utterly unchanged in Anuttara can nevertheless become the source of manifestation. So he first stabilizes the ground. The secret is not first of all the process of emanation. The secret is the nature of Bhairava as self-reposed consciousness.

That is why the first cluster of terms is so weighty. Bhairava is avikṛta — unmodified, unaltered. He is reposed in the stable form of Anuttara, the unsurpassable. He is dhruva, steady, not a passing movement. He is the jīvana-bhūta of the whole network of kalās, the living ground of all the differentiated powers and articulations. He is ādisiddha, primordially accomplished, not something achieved later. And he is akalātmaka, of the nature of the partless, beyond segmented division.

All of that is necessary before Abhinava allows the sentence to move forward. He is preventing a false inference. Once visarga, spanda, kuṇḍalinī, and manifestation are spoken of, the reader may imagine that Bhairava somehow leaves behind his repose and becomes something else. Abhinava blocks that in advance. The one who expands is none other than the one who remains unchanged. The one who becomes the source of sequence is still the one established in the partless. The dynamic does not replace the absolute. It is the absolute’s own mode of self-expression.

This follows the previous chunk with complete precision. There, the secret had already been identified with uninterrupted Bhairava-radiance coming to rest in self-awareness, and that repose was then named aham. Now Abhinava says: yes — and this very aham, this very self-reposed Bhairava, is the deepest secret. Only from there can the next movement be understood correctly.

So the force of this point is to hold together two things that the mind wants to separate: absolute repose and generative power. Bhairava is first established as unchanged Anuttara, the life of all kalās, the source of all, and the partless one. Only then can Abhinava speak of emanation without falling into degradation. The secret lies precisely in that: the source never stops being itself.

As spanda and ānanda-śakti, he becomes visarga

prasarātmanā [prasarātmaneti spandarūpayā svātmocchalattayetyarthaḥ | yaduktam

tayoryadyāmalaṃ rūpaṃ sa saṃghaṭṭa iti smṛtaḥ |
ānandaśaktiḥ saivoktā yato viśvaṃ visṛjyate ||

iti ānandaśaktireva paravisarga ityucyate | yathoktam

asyāntarvisisṛkṣāsau yā proktā kaulikī parā |
saiva kṣobhavaśādeti visargātmakatāṃ dhruvam ||

“…as being of the nature of expansion. [‘Of the nature of expansion’ means: as spanda, as the surging forth of one’s own Self. As it has been said:

‘That form of the two which is the yāmala is remembered as the collision;
that itself is called the power of bliss, from which the universe is emitted.’

Thus, that very power of bliss is called the supreme visarga. As it has also been said:

‘That inner urge to emit, which is called the supreme Kaulika [power],
itself, under the force of stirring, certainly comes to have the nature of visarga.’]”

Now Abhinava allows the sentence to move. The Bhairava who was just described as utterly unchanged, stable in Anuttara, partless, and the life-ground of all kalās, is now said to become prasarātman — of the nature of expansion. And the bracketed clarification immediately tells you how to hear that rightly: not as departure from himself, but as spanda, the surging forth of his own Self. This is crucial. The secret is not that the absolute somehow stops being absolute and becomes movement. The secret is that the absolute’s own self-surging is what movement is.

That is why the clarification uses the language of yāmala and saṃghaṭṭa. The paired form of the two is the collision, the conjunction, the point of intense meeting. But that conjunction is immediately named ānanda-śakti — the power of bliss. So what is emerging here is not mechanical emanation. It is bliss becoming generative. The world is emitted because bliss is not inert. It has surge, pressure, fullness, outflow.

Then Abhinava makes the decisive identification: ānanda-śakti itself is paravisarga. This is one of the most important equations in the passage. Visarga is not just “emission” in a neutral sense. It is the supreme outpouring of bliss-power. That is why manifestation can remain inwardly linked to the absolute. What goes forth is not something other than Bhairava; it is Bhairava’s own ānanda-śakti in emissive mode.

The second citation sharpens this again from another angle. The inner urge to emit — antar-visisṛkṣā — is called the supreme Kaulika power. And under the force of kṣobha, stirring or agitation, it takes on the nature of visarga. So again the logic is exact: the root is inner, not external; the urge is already within the absolute itself; and visarga is what happens when that inner power stirs into expressive outflow.

This follows the previous point with full precision. There, Abhinava fixed Bhairava in unchanged Anuttara so that emanation would not be read as degradation. Here he shows how emanation is still possible without contradiction: Bhairava expands as spanda, as self-surging ānanda-śakti, and that very bliss-power is visarga.

So the point is not:
first there is stillness, then later there is something else called movement.

The point is:
the unchanged absolute is itself capable of self-surging bliss,
and that self-surging is visarga.

The sequence of kuṇḍalinī is outlined: śakti-kuṇḍalinī, prāṇa-kuṇḍalinī, parā-kuṇḍalinī, and śiva-vyoman

tatretthaṃ kramaḥ

prakāśyaṃ sarvavastūnāṃ visargarahitā tu sā |
śaktikuṇḍalikā caiva prāṇakuṇḍalikā tathā ||

visargaprāntadeśe tu parā kuṇḍalinīti ca |
śivavyometi paramaṃ brahmātmasthānamucyate ||

visargamātraṃ nāthasya sṛṣṭisaṃhāravibhramāḥ |

“Here, then, is the sequence:

‘She is the illuminatrix of all things, yet devoid of visarga; she is called śakti-kuṇḍalikā, and likewise prāṇa-kuṇḍalikā.

But at the terminal region of visarga she is called parā kuṇḍalinī; and the supreme station of Brahman and the Self is called śiva-vyoman.

The creations and reabsorptions are but the playings-around of the Lord’s visarga alone.’”

Abhinava now pauses the main current and gives a compact doctrinal map. That matters because the previous point was already intense: Bhairava, unchanged in Anuttara, becomes expansion as spanda; ānanda-śakti is identified with paravisarga; the inner urge to emit becomes visarga under the force of kṣobha. Having said that, he now outlines the krama, the sequence by which this same power is to be understood in its distinct stations.

The first line is already difficult but important: she is the prakāśyaṃ sarva-vastūnām, the illuminatrix or that by which all things become manifest, yet visarga-rahitā — devoid of visarga. This means Abhinava begins not from emission proper, but from a more contracted or pre-emissive condition of the power. She is already luminous, already the basis of manifestation, but not yet in the mode of explicit outpouring. That is why she is here called śakti-kuṇḍalikā, and also prāṇa-kuṇḍalikā. The same power is being marked in its coiled, interior, life-bearing state.

Then the next distinction appears: at the terminal region of visarga she is called parā kuṇḍalinī. This is a shift upward and subtler. The power is no longer being described merely as latent or life-bearing in the contracted sense, but as touching the limit, edge, or summit of visarga itself. That is why this is parā, the supreme kuṇḍalinī. The text is mapping not different substances, but different stations of one power.

And above or within that is named śiva-vyoman, the sky of Śiva, the supreme station of Brahman and the Self. This is a very strong culmination. It shows that the kuṇḍalinī-language is not being used merely for subtle-body energetics. The sequence opens finally into the supreme expanse itself, the paraṃ brahmātmasthāna. So Abhinava is integrating yogic language into his nondual metaphysics without reducing either one to the other.

Then comes the sealing line: sṛṣṭi and saṃhāra, creation and reabsorption, are merely the vibhramāḥ — the playings, whirlings, or fluctuations — of the Lord’s visarga alone. This gathers the whole sequence beautifully. All the dramatic movements of manifestation and return are not separate cosmic catastrophes or independent ontological stages. They are the playful turnings of visarga. That is, the same outpouring power accounts for both emergence and withdrawal.

This follows the previous point exactly. There, ānanda-śakti was identified with paravisarga. Here, Abhinava shows how that same power is to be understood in its stations: coiled as śakti-kuṇḍalinī, life-bearing as prāṇa-kuṇḍalinī, supreme at the edge of visarga as parā kuṇḍalinī, and finally opening into śiva-vyoman. And then he universalizes the point: all creation and reabsorption are nothing but the Lord’s visarga in play.

So this section is doing something very important. It is not yet advancing the argument forward in a new direction. It is giving the reader a doctrinal ladder so the next movements do not become confused. One power, several stations, one visarga, many playings.

Because visarga itself is ha-śakti and kuṇḍalinī, Bhairava again expands as bindu into human form

iti |] rūpeṇa visargarūpatāmaśnuvāno visargasyaiva kuṇḍalinyātmaka-
ha-śaktimayatvāt punarapi tacchāktaprasarābhedavedakarūpabindvātmanā nararūpeṇa
prasarati |

“Thus, assuming the nature of visarga in this form, and because visarga itself is made of ha-śakti and is of the nature of kuṇḍalinī, he again expands, in the form of bindu — which is the awareness of the non-difference of that śākta expansion — as the human form.”

Abhinava now makes a very striking turn. Up to this point, the movement has been described at the level of Bhairava, visarga, ānanda-śakti, and the graded sequence of kuṇḍalinī. That could still be heard as cosmic doctrine or subtle metaphysics. Here he brings it directly into nara-rūpa, human embodiment. The point is not that the cosmic process happens elsewhere and man later appears as a secondary product. Rather, the same process itself comes forth again as the human locus.

The sentence turns on two linked ideas. First, visarga itself is kuṇḍalinī and is made of ha-śakti. So visarga is not a bare abstract emission. It is already power, already the living coiled-expansive energy of manifestation. Second, this same visarga becomes bindu — not merely a point in a geometric or symbolic sense, but the form in which the non-difference of that śākta expansion is known. That phrase is crucial: tacchāktaprasarābhedavedaka-rūpa-bindu. Bindu here is the knowing-point, the compact center in which the outflow of Śakti is still held in non-difference.

That is why the movement into human form matters so much. The human is not introduced here as a fallen or merely empirical creature standing outside the divine process. Nara is the point at which the expansive śākta outflow is gathered and known in bindu-form. In other words, the human locus is not foreign to visarga; it is one of its most concentrated expressions.

This follows the previous point exactly. There Abhinava mapped the stations of one power: śakti-kuṇḍalinī, prāṇa-kuṇḍalinī, parā-kuṇḍalinī, and śiva-vyoman, then said that creation and reabsorption are the playings of visarga alone. Now he shows one of the most important consequences of that: the same visarga-power does not stop at cosmic process. It expands again as the human being.

That is a very strong move. It means the human condition is not outside the highest doctrine. The human is a bindu-form of the same power by which Bhairava emits the universe. So once again Abhinava refuses every simple split: cosmic versus individual, absolute versus embodied, transcendence versus human interiority. The same current runs through all of them.

So the real point of this segment is: the cosmic visarga gathers itself as bindu and appears again as nara. Human embodiment is therefore not a secondary accident. It is a decisive station in the self-articulation of the same śākta expansion.

The human unfolding repeats the prior cosmic sequence: creation, void-fire, awakening in consciousness, śākta expansion, and final śāmbhava visarga

tathā [tathā punarapīti yathā

pūrvaṃ visṛjya sakalaṃ kartavyaṃ śūnyatānale |
cittaviśrāntisaṃjño'yamāṇavastadanantaram ||

dṛṣṭaśrutāditadvastupronmukhatvaṃ svasaṃvidi |
cittasaṃbodhanāmoktaḥ śāktollāsabharātmakaḥ ||

tatronmukhatvatadvastusaṃghaṭṭādvastuno hṛdi |
rūḍheḥ pūrṇatayāveśānmitacittalayācchive ||

prāgvadbhaviṣyadaunmukhyasaṃbhāvyamitatālayāt |
cittapralayanāmāsau visargaḥ śāṃbhavaḥ paraḥ ||]

“And likewise again, as follows:

‘First, having emitted everything, one should cast it into the fire of emptiness;
after that comes this, called the repose of consciousness, belonging to the individual.

The turning toward that seen, heard, and so on within one’s own consciousness
is called the awakening of consciousness, full of the expansion of Śakti.

Then, from that turning and from the collision with that object,
when the object has become established in the heart, through full absorption and through the dissolution of the limited mind into Śiva,

from the cessation of the measurable limitation connected with expectation toward the future, as before,
this is called the dissolution of consciousness — the supreme Śāmbhava visarga.’”

Abhinava now makes the earlier turn into nara-rūpa fully explicit by showing that the human path repeats the same structure already described cosmically. That is why the passage begins with tathā punar api — “and likewise again.” The same rhythm is now being restated in an interior practical sequence. So the human being is not merely said to arise from bindu in theory; the whole cosmic process becomes legible again within the inner life of practice and awareness.

The first movement is strong: visṛjya sakalaṃ — having emitted everything — and then kartavyaṃ śūnyatānale — it is to be cast into the fire of emptiness. This is not nihilism. It is the reversal of outward dispersion. What has gone forth is offered into a consuming interior void-fire. Then comes citta-viśrānti, repose of consciousness, here still marked as āṇava, belonging to the individual condition. So this is not yet the final state, but the first recollection after outward projection.

Then the process deepens. The seen, heard, and other objects become pronmukha within one’s own consciousness — they are turned toward, or faced, inwardly. This is called citta-saṃbodhana, awakening of consciousness, and Abhinava immediately says it is full of śākta-ullāsa — the expansion or blossoming of Śakti. So the re-gathering is not dry withdrawal. It is charged with rising power.

From there comes saṃghaṭṭa, collision, contact, intense meeting with the object now inwardly taken into the heart. When the object becomes established there, and through full absorption the limited mind dissolves into Śiva, the sequence moves further toward completion. This is a very Abhinavian move: the object is not simply rejected. It is interiorized, ripened in the heart, and from there becomes part of the passage into deeper identity.

Finally comes the last turn: when the mind’s measurable limitation — especially its orientation toward futurity, toward what is about to come — falls away, there is citta-pralaya, dissolution of consciousness in the ordinary limited sense. And this, Abhinava says, is the supreme Śāmbhava visarga. This is one of the most striking lines in the passage. Even the final dissolution is still called visarga. That means visarga here is no longer just outward emission. It is the supreme divine movement itself, whether in creation or in the highest reabsorption. It is the pulse of Śambhu.

This follows the previous point perfectly. There the cosmic visarga gathered itself as bindu and expanded again as nara. Here Abhinava shows what that means in practice: the human path repeats the whole cosmic pattern — emission, recollection, śākta awakening, heart-collision, dissolution of the limited mind, and final Śāmbhava visarga.

So the force of this segment is very great: the macrocosm and the inner sādhana are not parallel analogies. They are one process seen at two scales. The human interior path is the cosmic pulse becoming conscious of itself.

This root triad will be made fully explicit very soon

punarapi tanmūlatrisphuṭayiṣyate ca etat avidūra eva

“And this root triad will again be made fully explicit very soon.”

After carrying the reader through one of the densest sequences in the text — from aham as the repose of light, to Bhairava unchanged in Anuttara, to visarga as spanda and ānanda-śakti, to the stations of kuṇḍalinī, to bindu becoming human form, and then to the repetition of the same cosmic process within inner practice — Abhinava now says that this root triad will be clarified again shortly.

That matters because the whole chunk has been polyphonic, almost oppressive in its simultaneity. Several streams have been moving at once: metaphysics, cosmology, mantra, yogic process, and phenomenology. By saying that the mūla-tri will soon be made explicit, Abhinava is acknowledging, in his own severe way, that what has just been given is not yet the final orderly exposition. The root structure is already there, but not yet laid bare in its cleanest form.

This also helps explain the internal motion of the passage. It was not meant to function as a closed argument with every term stabilized before the next one appeared. Rather, it was a powerful unfolding meant to bring the reader into the current itself, after which the root triad can be restated more explicitly. In other words, Abhinava first lets the doctrine move in its living complexity, and only afterward promises sharper formal clarification.

So this line serves two purposes at once. It closes the immediate sequence, but it also keeps the reader from treating the present density as the last word. The root triad — the structural key beneath all this movement — is still to be brought out more plainly. That is why the line says avidūra eva — very soon, not far ahead.