Parātrīṃśikā Vivaraṇa (Part 60): From Madhyamā and Vaikharī to Nara, Śakti, Śiva

A devotee standing before Kali and Shiva evokes the triadic field of nara, śakti, and śiva, though the image renders nara more personally than Abhinava’s stricter philosophical sense.

Abhinava now takes the earlier distinction between Madhyamā and Vaikharī and pushes it to its sharpest edge. In the previous chunk, he had shown that hearing is not mere sound-reception, that upāṃśu belongs to the inward level where the Self alone hears, and that what is heard by others counts as saśabda. But that still leaves a subtle borderline case: what if the lips, tongue, and other organs are already moving? Does articulation by itself mean that speech has become external? This chunk answers that question. Abhinava argues that mere movement of the speech-organs is not yet enough; unless the phoneme truly acquires outward embodiment, the utterance remains inward and belongs to Madhyamā. Once it does become available to others, it is Vaikharī. From there he widens the frame again and says that this whole field is explicitly triadic — nara, śakti, śiva — so that the distinctions of inward, outward, and articulated expression belong within the larger Trika structure of difference, mixed difference-non-difference, and pure non-difference. So the movement of this chunk is from a very precise question about speech-externalization into an ontological clarification of the whole triadic field.

Even when lips and the like move, if the phoneme does not truly emerge outward, it remains inward and momentary

oṣṭhādicalanamapi na tatra
varṇāṃśe'nupraviśet api tu svātmaniṣṭhameva tātkālikaṃ tatsyāt
tātkālikeṅgitanimiṣitakaravyāpārādisthānīye

“Even the movement of the lips and the like does not, there, carry through into the phonemic element. Rather, it remains confined to oneself, momentary — comparable to such momentary acts as a gesture, a blink, or a movement of the hand.”

Abhinava now tightens the boundary with real precision. He had already argued that hearing is not mere sound-reception, that upāṃśu belongs to the inwardly heard level, and that what is genuinely heard by others counts as outward sound. Now he addresses a subtler case: what if the lips move, the mouth shifts, and something like articulation seems to be happening — does that already mean the phoneme has entered outward expression? His answer is no.

That is the force of na tatra varṇāṃśe ’nupraviśet. The movement of the speech-organs is still not enough for the phoneme itself to have properly emerged. The activity may be real, but it remains svātmaniṣṭha, resting in oneself, not yet born into a public auditory field. It is inwardly poised expression, not full external speech.

The comparison is telling: gesture, blinking, movement of the hand. These are visible acts, certainly, but they do not yet count as articulated phonemic manifestation. Abhinava places this sort of lip-movement in the same zone. It is an event, but still a tātkālika one — momentary, self-contained, not yet carrying the full body of the phoneme outward.

This matters because it prevents a crude equation between organ-movement and speech. One can move toward articulation without having reached articulation in the full sense. The threshold is not muscular motion by itself. The threshold is whether the phoneme has actually come forth as outwardly manifest expression.

So the point is exact: mere movement of lips and related organs does not yet amount to phonemic externalization. It may remain an inward, momentary act, closer to gesture than to true outward speech.

Once clear articulatory effort produces phonemes hearable by others, it is definitely Vaikharī

sphuṭasthānakaraṇaprayatnayoge tu varṇaniṣpattāvapi yadi nāma dhvanīnāṃ
tāratamyena tāramandrādivibhāge dūrādūrādiśravaṇaṃ syāt sarvathā paraiḥ
śrūyate - iti vaikharīpadameva etat ityatvaṃ prasaktānuprasaktyā |

“But when there is the clear conjunction of articulatory place, instrument, and effort, and phonemes are actually produced, then even if, owing to differences of sound such as high and low pitch, they are heard from farther or nearer away, they are in every case heard by others. Therefore this is definitely the level of Vaikharī.”

Abhinava now gives the positive counterpart to the previous point. Mere movement of lips and the like does not yet amount to outward speech; it may remain inward, momentary, and self-contained. But once there is sphuṭa-sthāna-karaṇa-prayatna-yoga — a clear conjunction of place of articulation, instrument, and expressive effort — and actual varṇa-niṣpatti, phonemic production, then the threshold has been crossed. This is no longer inwardly poised speech. It is Vaikharī.

The mention of tāra and mandra — higher and lower pitch — and of distance and nearness matters because Abhinava is ruling out accidental criteria. A sound may be shriller or deeper, more or less easily heard depending on distance, but none of that changes the ontological fact once it has become available to other hearers. That is the decisive point. Externalized speech is not defined by loudness alone, nor by perfect audibility under all conditions, but by the fact that it has genuinely emerged into a shared auditory field.

So this follows the previous point exactly. There, Abhinava said that lip-movement without full phonemic emergence remains inward, more like gesture than speech. Here he states the converse: once phonemes are clearly produced through full articulatory effort and are hearable by others, the utterance belongs to Vaikharī without ambiguity.

This is a subtle but important distinction. He is not talking like a crude physicalist, as though speech were only muscular motion plus sound-wave output. But neither does he dissolve everything into inward consciousness. He preserves a real threshold: outward embodiment of the phoneme. When that happens, speech has entered the domain of manifest external articulation.

So the force of the passage is this: clear phonemic production heard by others is Vaikharī. Pitch, volume, and distance may vary, but once the sound truly emerges into shared audibility, the utterance has crossed into the external level.

That same Parameśvarī, marked by hearing and invocation, is explicitly said to be of the nature of Śakti

saiva [śravaṇalakṣaṇā |] parameśvarī āmantraṇayogena sphuṭaṃ śaktirūpatayoktā

“That very Parameśvarī — characterized here through hearing — is, through the context of invocation, explicitly said to be of the nature of Śakti.”

Abhinava now gathers the whole previous discussion into one doctrinal statement. He has been distinguishing inward hearing from outward sound, Madhyamā from Vaikharī, and mere organ-movement from true phonemic externalization. Now he says plainly: the very Parameśvarī at work in this field of hearing and address is Śakti.

That matters because the earlier analysis might otherwise look merely technical — almost like a philosophy of speech and audition. Abhinava stops that drift. The point is not only how sound becomes audible, nor only how inward articulation differs from outward utterance. The point is that all of this is one operation of the Goddess.

The phrase āmantraṇa-yogena is important. It is “through the context of invocation,” or “in connection with direct address,” that she is here explicitly named as Śakti. So this is not an abstract metaphysical add-on. The whole domain of speaking, calling, hearing, receiving, and articulating is already taking place under the sign of living invocation. Speech is not dead sound; it is already relation, address, power.

And the note śravaṇa-lakṣaṇā also matters. She is being marked from the side of hearing, but not limited to hearing. Rather, hearing is the doorway through which her nature is being disclosed here. What appeared first as the power that makes true hearing possible is now openly identified as Parameśvarī Śakti herself.

So the force of the passage is this: the distinctions of inward and outward hearing are not merely linguistic or physiological. They are modalities of Śakti. The very Parameśvarī active in hearing and invocation is explicitly the Goddess as Śakti.

The whole field is triadic: nara, śakti, śiva

nara-śakti-śivātmakaṃ [sphuṭaṃ śaktirūpatayā uktā ityeva savicāraṃ sphuṭayati -
naraśaktītyādinā tatra bhedapradhāno naraḥ bhedābhedapradhānā śaktiḥ
kevalamabhedapradhānaḥ śiva iti | yaduktaṃ

vibhāgābhāsane cāsya tridhā vapurudāhṛtam |

iti | icchā-jñāna-kriyāsvarūpamatra subodhaṃ sṛṣṭikrameṇa |]

“It is of the nature of the triad: nara, śakti, and śiva. [He makes explicit what was said clearly, namely that she is of the nature of Śakti: here, by ‘nara, śakti, śiva,’ nara is that in which difference predominates, śakti that in which both difference and non-difference predominate together, and śiva that in which pure non-difference alone predominates. As it has been said: ‘In the manifestation of division, his form is declared to be threefold.’ Here this is easily understood, in the order of manifestation, as will, knowledge, and action.]”

Up to this point Abhinava has been speaking very precisely about hearing, inward articulation, outward sound, Madhyamā, and Vaikharī. Now he steps back and says: this whole field is not just a speech-theory. It belongs to a triadic ontology — nara, śakti, śiva.

That matters because otherwise one might read the earlier discussion too narrowly. One could think: inward speech here, outward speech there, hearing here, invocation there. Abhinava now says no — the whole terrain is structured by three basic modes of reality.

The definitions are exact:

Nara is where difference predominates.
This is the contracted side, where things stand apart, where objecthood is heavy, where multiplicity hardens, where one thing is over against another.

Śakti is where difference and non-difference are both prominent.
This is the middle, dynamic, living field. Not pure fragmentation, not pure undivided stillness, but the current in which unity is expressing itself through difference without being lost in it.

Śiva is where non-difference alone predominates.
Here the divided appearance has not vanished in the sense of being annihilated; rather, it is no longer primary. What stands foremost is undivided identity.

This is why the point is so important. Abhinava is placing the whole earlier discussion of speech inside the deeper Trika structure. Inward articulation and outward sound are not just mechanical gradations. They are expressions of how consciousness stands with respect to difference.

The little note about icchā, jñāna, kriyā also matters. In the order of manifestation, the triad is readable through will, knowledge, and action. So Abhinava is not merely classifying static levels. He is describing a living unfolding. The triad is dynamic.

So the force of the passage is this: hearing, speech, invocation, inward articulation, and outward expression all belong within a larger triadic field — nara, śakti, śiva — defined by the varying predominance of difference and non-difference. That is the ontological horizon of the whole discussion.

Whatever abides merely in itself and appears as object-like inertia is primarily nara

hi idaṃ sarvaṃ trikarūpameva tatra yat kevalaṃ svātmani avasthitaṃ tat kevalaṃ jaḍarūpayogi
mukhyatayā narātmakaṃ ghaṭaḥ tiṣṭhati

“For all this is indeed of the triadic nature. There, whatever abides merely in itself is joined, primarily, to the form of inert objecthood and is of the nature of nara — as when one says, ‘the pot stands.’”

Abhinava now applies the triad concretely. He has just said that the whole field is nara–śakti–śiva: difference-dominant, mixed, and non-difference-dominant. Now he shows what the nara-side looks like. It is whatever appears as merely self-contained, merely there, merely standing in itself as an object.

That is why he gives the simple example: ghaṭaḥ tiṣṭhati — “the pot stands.” This is not a random example. It shows a mode of manifestation in which objecthood is heavy and primary. The thing appears cut off, self-contained, inert. Abhinava calls that jaḍa-rūpa-yogi, joined to the form of inertness, though only mukhyatayā, primarily or from the dominant side. That qualification matters. He is not saying the pot is absolutely outside consciousness. He is saying that in this mode, objecthood predominates.

So nara here does not simply mean “human being” in the ordinary sense. It names the pole where difference hardens and the manifest thing stands over against awareness as if self-sufficient. This is the contracted end of the triad. Not false in the cheap sense, but dense, separated, and object-dominant.

This follows the previous point exactly. Once Abhinava defined:

• nara as difference-dominant,
• śakti as mixed difference and non-difference,
• śiva as pure non-difference,

he had to show what that means experientially. Here he does: the object as object, the thing as “just there,” belongs primarily to the nara-side.

So the force of the passage is this: whatever appears as merely object-like, self-contained, and inert is primarily nara. The pot is his example of contraction into thingness.

“Ghaṭaḥ” marks determinate cognition, while “idam” marks indeterminate cognition

[ghaṭa iti savikalpakaṃ jñānam idamiti nirvikalpamityanayorviśeṣaḥ]

“‘Pot’ is determinate cognition; ‘this’ is indeterminate cognition — such is the distinction between the two.”

Abhinava now inserts a brief but very important clarification. He has just said that whatever appears as merely self-contained and object-like is primarily nara, giving the example “ghaṭaḥ tiṣṭhati” — “the pot stands.” Now he refines the epistemic side of that example. The word ghaṭaḥ does not simply point to an object; it already implies savikalpaka-jñāna, determinate cognition. The thing is not only present — it is identified, fixed, conceptually grasped as pot.

By contrast, idam — “this” — is nirvikalpaka, indeterminate. Here the object is present, but not yet stabilized through explicit conceptual determination. There is manifestation, but not yet named classification. One could say: idam is the bare givenness of the appearing thing; ghaṭaḥ is that same appearing thing after conceptual articulation has taken hold.

This matters because Abhinava is not talking loosely about “objectivity.” He is distinguishing levels within cognition itself. The object may first appear in a more immediate, pre-conceptual way as idam, and then later be fixed in determinate cognition as ghaṭaḥ. That is why the example of the pot is useful: it shows how the nara-side is not merely about external objects existing “out there,” but about the mode in which consciousness receives and determines them.

This also fits the previous point exactly. There, whatever abides as merely self-contained and inert-like was said to belong primarily to nara. Here Abhinava sharpens that by showing that objecthood itself has layers: raw appearing and determinate naming are not the same. The movement from idam to ghaṭaḥ is already a movement from indeterminate manifestation to differentiated conceptual fixation.

So the force of the note is this: “this” is not yet “pot.” The former is indeterminate appearance; the latter is determinate cognition. And that difference matters for understanding how object-dominance, differentiation, and the nara-pole arise within experience.

This object-side is the remaining contracted domain of the first-person field

itivat eṣa eva prathamapuruṣaviṣayaḥ śeṣaḥ |

“Thus, this indeed is what remains as the domain of the first person.”

Abhinava closes the movement by saying that this object-like side — the side just illustrated through ghaṭaḥ, determinate cognition, inert-seeming thingness, and the predominance of difference — is still not outside the field of subjectivity altogether. It is what remains as the domain of the first person, but in a contracted mode.

That matters. He does not say: here is the object-world, fully external, cut off, belonging to a second independent realm. Nor does he say: objectivity is simply unreal and may be ignored. He says, in effect: this too is still within the field of the prathamapuruṣa, but as its reduced, hardened, remainder-form.

So the point is subtle. The pot standing there as object, the determinate “this is a pot,” the inert-seeming separated thing — all of that belongs to the first-person field not in the sense of egoic ownership, but in the sense that it is still a mode of consciousness appearing under contraction. It is the residue of the subject-field when difference has become dominant and objecthood has thickened.

This fits the whole triadic argument exactly. Nara was defined as the pole where difference predominates. Then Abhinava showed how object-like thingness and determinate cognition belong primarily to that pole. Now he adds the final correction: even this is still within the scope of the first-person field. The contraction is real, but the severance is not.

So the force of the line is this: the object-side is not outside consciousness; it is the remaining contracted domain of the first-person field itself. That is why Trika can speak of objecthood without granting it true independence.