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| Blue Blood Moon over the peaks of Vancouver Island. The image shows multiple phases/appearances of the moon in one visual field, which resonates with the Buddhist claim that the separate appearance of grasper, grasped, and cognition is like a distorted appearance of plurality. |
The previous part presented the Buddhist view in its strong form: object and cognition are not ultimately separate; blue and the cognition of blue are necessarily co-apprehended; the distinctions of object, means of knowledge, and result are internal to cognition; and the apparent division into grasped, grasper, and cognition arises from ignorance. The view culminated in the Buddhist claim that seeing saṃvinmātra, mere consciousness devoid of object-form, leads to fearless nirvāṇa.
Now the text enters the most technical layer of that Buddhist argument. This is not the heart of Abhinava’s own vision yet. It is the inferential machinery around the Buddhist claim: whether the hetu, the reason, is established; whether it is contradicted; whether it strays into the contrary case; whether the example works; whether the rule of sahopalambha-niyama, necessary co-apprehension, proves non-difference between cognition and object.
This chunk is dry, but its dryness hides something very bold. Abhinava is not merely rehearsing Buddhist logic as an opponent’s view to be dismissed. He lets the Buddhist argument stand with real force. He allows its blade to cut. The claim that object and cognition are not ultimately separate, that blue and the cognition of blue are inseparably co-apprehended, that the division of grasper, grasped, and cognition is not finally real — he does not brush this aside with sectarian reflex. He receives it, examines it, and uses what is true in it.
That is one of the signs of Abhinava’s largeness. Many Indian thinkers argued fiercely against the Buddhists, and often for good reasons, because the Buddhist challenge was not weak. It struck at the foundations of realism, selfhood, ritual authority, and metaphysical substance. But Abhinava does something more dangerous than simple opposition. He shows that the Buddhist insight is already included within a larger Śaiva vision. He does not need to caricature it. He can allow it to be sharp, because his own system is not threatened by its sharpness.
This is where his Kaula-Trika totality becomes visible, even through the most technical epistemology. He can take truth from wherever it appears. If the Buddhist has seen something clearly about cognition, Abhinava does not pretend otherwise. He does not say, “Because this comes from another school, it must be false.” He absorbs the force of the insight and places it inside a wider field: not merely cognition-only, but living, sovereign, self-apprehending saṃvid; not merely the cancellation of object-form, but the radiance of Parāśakti; not merely the dissolution of grasper and grasped, but the recognition of the power that manifests both.
That is why this passage matters despite its dryness. Abhinava is showing that he contains the Buddhist nerve: the analytic severity, the refusal of naïve objecthood, the demand that experience be examined without sentimentality. He is not only a theologian of divine fullness, not only a Tantric exegete, not only a poet of consciousness. He can also enter the hardest territory of Buddhist epistemology and move there without losing his own center.
So this chunk should be read as a technical bridge, but also as a revelation of method. Abhinava allows the Buddhist reasoning to do its work: object and cognition cannot be ultimately separated. Then, instead of remaining in Buddhist jñānamātra, he will carry the established result into his own deeper current of prātibha, Parāśakti, and Spanda. The Buddhist blade cuts away crude realism; Abhinava then shows the living heart that remains after the cut.
Those skilled in discrimination accept ālayavijñāna, and later vikalpas have valid correspondence
ca vivekakuśalair ālayavijñānam evopagataṃ sasaṃvādatvaṃ ca tadanantarabhāvināṃ vikalpānāṃ darśitameva
“And by those skilled in discrimination, ālayavijñāna itself has been accepted; and the valid correspondence of the vikalpas arising immediately after that has already been shown.”
The text now continues inside the Buddhist frame. Those who are viveka-kuśala, skilled in discrimination, accept ālayavijñāna — the storehouse consciousness or foundational consciousness used in Yogācāra to explain continuity, latent impressions, and the arising of later cognition. This matters because the Buddhist view cannot be reduced to isolated flashes of cognition with no continuity. It has its own way of accounting for the ground from which later appearances and conceptual determinations arise.
Then the text adds that the sasaṃvādatva, the valid correspondence, of the later vikalpas has already been shown. This is important. The Buddhist view being presented is not saying that all later conceptual cognitions are simply useless hallucinations. They have practical correspondence. They function. They arise after the deeper cognitive basis and can support ordinary dealings.
So the structure is this: ālayavijñāna provides the deeper basis or continuity; later vikalpas arise from it; and these later conceptual cognitions can still possess saṃvāda, valid agreement or practical fit. This protects the Buddhist position from caricature. It is not crude nihilism and not mere denial of experience. It is an account in which cognition alone appears, while practical conceptual cognition still functions within that appearing.
For Abhinava’s purposes, this is significant because it shows that the Buddhist argument is not weak. It has a way of explaining continuity, later conceptual cognition, and practical validity. But Abhinava will not remain with ālayavijñāna as the final ground. He is preparing to move beyond this into pārameśvarī pratibhā — not merely a storehouse of cognitive seeds, but sovereign self-apprehending consciousness.
Therefore the reason is not unestablished in the subject to be proved
iti nāsiddho hetuḥ sādhyadharmiṇi
“Therefore, the reason is not unestablished in the subject to be proved.”
The text now turns explicitly to the structure of inference. The hetu, the reason or inferential mark, is not asiddha, not unestablished, in the sādhya-dharmin, the subject in which the probandum is to be proved.
In simpler terms: the Buddhist argument is not failing at the first step. Its reason is not floating without a basis. The previous point established that ālayavijñāna is accepted by those skilled in discrimination, and that the later vikalpas arising after it have valid correspondence. Therefore the inferential ground is present where it needs to be present.
This is dry, but the function is clear. The Buddhist position has claimed that cognition and object are non-different, because what is known is never known apart from the cognition that knows it. Now the text is checking whether that argument has formal defects. First possible defect: the reason might be unestablished. Answer: no, it is not unestablished.
So this point is basically courtroom procedure. Before moving forward, the argument’s footing is secured. The hetu stands in the relevant subject. That is why the Buddhist inference cannot be dismissed as merely poetic cognition-only talk. It has formal inferential discipline behind it.
The reason does not occur in the contrary case
na ca ekāvabhāsivikalpasaṃvibhāgakāriṇi avikalpake vipakṣe sadā vā kadācidapi vā vartate
“Nor does it occur, either always or even at any time, in the contrary case: an avikalpaka that produces the division of vikalpas within a single appearing.”
The text now checks the next possible fault in the inference. A valid hetu, reason, must not appear in the vipakṣa, the contrary case. If it does, the inference becomes unstable. So the question is: does this reason occur in something opposed to what is being proved?
The contrary case here is described as an avikalpaka that produces the division of vikalpas within one appearing — eka-avabhāsi-vikalpa-saṃvibhāga-kārin. In plain terms: could the non-conceptual ground, while still being opposed to the Buddhist conclusion, nevertheless generate the divided conceptual cognitions inside one field of appearing? If that were so, the reason might also occur where the conclusion is absent, and the inference would weaken.
The text says no. The reason does not occur there — not always, not even sometimes. So the Buddhist inference avoids another formal defect. The relation between knowability and non-difference from cognition is not found wandering into the contrary case.
This is very technical, but the living point is this: the Buddhist argument is being protected from the charge that its reason is loose. It is not merely saying, “object and cognition seem connected, therefore they are one.” It is checking whether the inferential mark stays where it should stay and is absent where it should be absent. That is why this section feels like low-level machinery. Abhinava is letting the Buddhist proof be tested in its own logical terms before moving beyond it.
What is known by a cognition is not different from that cognition
yat vedyate yena vedanena tat tato na bhidyate yathā - ātmā jñānasya vedyante nīlādayaḥ
“What is known by a certain cognition is not different from that cognition; for example, the self of cognition. Blue and the like are known by cognition.”
The gloss now states the core inferential pattern more directly. Whatever is known by a given vedana, a cognition or act of knowing, is not different from that very cognition. The example given is ātmā jñānasya — the self of cognition. Cognition’s own nature is known by cognition and is not separate from it.
Then the principle is applied to nīlādayaḥ, blue and the like. Blue is known by cognition. Therefore, on this Buddhist reasoning, blue is not truly different from the cognition in which it appears.
This is the same blade as sahopalambha-niyama, but now stated in inferential form. The object is never found outside the knowing that reveals it. If blue is known only in blue-cognition, then to posit a blue standing apart from that cognition is to posit something never actually encountered.
A simple way to feel the argument: when you say “blue is known,” where is that blue? It is not lying outside all awareness, self-revealed by itself. It is present in the very cognition that knows it. The Buddhist therefore says: do not split what is given as one event into two separate realities.
This remains the Buddhist view as Abhinava is presenting it. Its force is real: it denies that objects have an independently appearing status outside cognition. But Abhinava will later move beyond this into the Śaiva question of what this cognition truly is — not merely jñāna, but self-apprehending saṃvid as sovereign power.
If object and cognition were different, knowability would not hold
bhede hi jñānenāsya vedyatvaṃ na syāt - tādātmyasya niyamahetorabhāvāt anyenānyasya asaṃbaddhasya vedyatve'tiprasaṃga iti
“For if there were difference, this object could not be knowable by that cognition, because there would be no necessary ground of identity. And if one unrelated thing could be known by another unrelated thing, there would be overextension.”
The gloss now explains why the Buddhist inference insists on non-difference. If jñāna and artha were truly different, then the object’s vedyatva, its knowability by that cognition, would not be secured. What would bind them? What would make this cognition know this object rather than anything else?
The text says that without tādātmya, identity or non-difference, there is no niyama-hetu, no necessary ground that fixes the relation. If cognition and object are simply different, then the link between them becomes unstable. Why should this cognition reveal blue and not sound, memory, or something entirely unrelated?
This is the force of atiprasaṅga — overextension, absurd overreach. If one unrelated thing could know another unrelated thing, then anything could know anything. A cognition of blue could just as well know a pot, a sound, or a mountain, because no necessary relation would restrict the connection. The whole structure of determinate knowing would become arbitrary.
So the Buddhist argument is not just saying, “object and cognition are always together, therefore they are one.” It is saying more sharply: if they were really separate and unrelated, knowability itself would lose its ground. The object is knowable only because it is not ultimately outside the cognition that reveals it.
This remains a Buddhist inferential defense, but Abhinava is clearly letting its force stand. It is a powerful way to dismantle the naïve assumption that cognition reaches across a gap to grab an external object. If the gap were absolute, the connection would be unintelligible.
Knowability is pervaded by non-difference
bhede niyamahetoḥ saṃbandhasya vyāpakasyānupalabdhyā bhedādvipakṣādvyāvartamānaṃ vedyatvamabhedena vyāpyate iti
“Since, in difference, no pervasive relation is found that could serve as the necessary ground, knowability — being excluded from the contrary case of difference — is pervaded by non-difference.”
The gloss now states the inferential result more formally. If cognition and object are truly different, then a necessary binding relation between them must be found. But no such vyāpaka-saṃbandha, no pervasive relation, is available in the case of real difference. Difference alone cannot explain why this cognition knows this object.
Therefore vedyatva, knowability, is excluded from bheda, the contrary case of difference. And because knowability does not stand in real difference, it is abhedena vyāpyate — pervaded by non-difference. Wherever something is truly known, it is not ultimately different from the cognition that knows it.
This is very technical, but the core is simple. The Buddhist is saying: if you insist that object and cognition are separate, you owe us an explanation of their necessary connection. If you cannot provide one, then knowability itself points toward non-difference. The object is knowable because it is not outside cognition.
So the inference becomes tight:
What is known is not separate from the cognition knowing it.
Blue is known.
Therefore blue is not separate from blue-cognition.
This is still the Buddhist proof-structure. Abhinava is not yet speaking his own final doctrine, but he is letting this reasoning do real work: it strips away the idea of an object standing independently outside the field of cognition.
The separate appearance of grasped, grasper, and cognition is like seeing two moons
yaccāyaṃ grāhyagrāhakasaṃvittīnāṃ pṛthagavabhāsaḥ sa ekasmiṃścandramasi dvitvāvabhāsa iva bhramaḥ |
“And this separate appearance of grasped, grasper, and cognition is an error, like the appearance of two moons when there is one moon.”
The gloss now applies the Buddhist reasoning to ordinary experience. We seem to experience three separate things: grāhya, the grasped object; grāhaka, the grasper or knowing subject; and saṃvitti, cognition itself. This threefold separation feels obvious to ordinary awareness: “I know this object.”
But the Buddhist view says this pṛthag-avabhāsa, this appearance of separateness, is bhrama, error. It is like seeing two moons when there is only one. The two moons really appear to the diseased or distorted vision, but they do not correspond to two real moons. Likewise, the division between object, subject, and cognition appears, but it does not prove that these are ultimately separate realities.
This is a strong analogy because it does not deny appearance. The person really does see two moons. The error lies not in the fact of appearing, but in taking the appearing as ultimately true. In the same way, the grasper-grasped-cognition structure appears and functions in ordinary cognition, but according to the Buddhist argument, it is a distorted presentation of what is actually one cognition.
This continues the Buddhist blade against naïve realism. The problem is not only that objects are wrongly imagined as external. The very triadic structure of knowing is being diagnosed as a distortion. For Abhinava, this is a valuable cut, but again not the final Śaiva word. The Buddhist says the division is erroneous and cognition alone shines. Abhinava will later ask what this cognition is in its deepest nature — mere cognition, or sovereign self-apprehending saṃvid.
Supporting verse: in non-erroneous cognition, difference would be seen like two moons
yathoktaṃ
bhedaścābhrāntivijñāne dṛśyetendāviva dvayaḥ |
“As it has been said:
‘If difference were present in non-erroneous cognition, it would be seen like two moons in the moon.’”
The supporting verse reinforces the previous point. If the difference between grāhya, grāhaka, and saṃvitti were truly present, then it should appear in abhrānti-vijñāna, non-erroneous cognition. But the verse says that this supposed difference is like the appearance of two moons. It is seen only under distortion.
The example is exact. When someone sees two moons, the appearance occurs, but the object does not contain two moons. The error belongs to the mode of seeing. Likewise, the Buddhist view says that the separation of grasped, grasper, and cognition appears, but the appearing does not prove real division. It is bhrānti, distortion, not ultimate structure.
So the verse sharpens the Buddhist conclusion: real difference would have to survive clear cognition. If it disappears when distortion is removed, it was never ultimately there. What remains is cognition itself, not a truly divided triad.
This point continues to support the larger Buddhist inference: knowability belongs with non-difference, while the apparent division of cognition into subject, object, and knowing is like a visual error. Abhinava is still letting this Buddhist logic stand in its own force, before he extracts what he needs and moves beyond it.
The inferential reason avoids the standard defects
avikalpake vipakṣe sadā vā kadācidapi vā vartate na ca tato'sya vyāvṛttiḥ saṃdigdhā - iti na viruddho nānaikāntiko na saṃdigdhavipakṣavyāvṛttiḥ
“It does not occur in the contrary case, the avikalpaka, either always or even at any time; nor is its exclusion from that contrary case doubtful. Therefore it is not contradicted, not inconclusive, and not marked by doubtful exclusion from the contrary case.”
The text now summarizes the formal defense of the Buddhist inference. The hetu, the reason, does not appear in the vipakṣa, the contrary case. It is not found there always, nor even sometimes. And its exclusion from that contrary case is not doubtful.
Therefore the usual inferential defects do not apply. It is not viruddha, contradicted by the opposite conclusion. It is not anaikāntika, inconclusive or irregular. It is not afflicted by saṃdigdhavipakṣavyāvṛtti, doubtful exclusion from the contrary case.
This is the dry courtroom moment. The Buddhist argument is being checked for logical stability. The claim is not merely that cognition-only sounds plausible. The inference is being protected from technical objections: the reason is established, it does not stray into the wrong domain, and its exclusion from the contrary case is not uncertain.
The point for us is simple: Abhinava is allowing the Buddhist proof to stand as a serious piece of reasoning. The object’s knowability points toward non-difference from cognition, and the apparent subject-object split is treated as distortion. The inference, at least within this frame, is not easily dismissed.
Objection: knowing may be connected with the knowable while still different from it
[yathā chidikriyā chedyena saṃbadhyate bhidyate ca tathā jñānakriyāpi jñeyena saha saṃbhatsyate bhetsyate ca - iti sahopalambhaniyamasyāpi vipakṣādvayāvṛttiḥ saṃdigdheti pūrvapakṣaḥ |
“Just as the act of cutting is connected with what is cut and yet is different from it, so too the act of knowing may be connected with the knowable and yet be different from it. Therefore, the exclusion of sahopalambha-niyama from the contrary case is doubtful — this is the objection.”
The gloss now gives the opponent’s counterargument. The Buddhist inference has claimed that because blue and the cognition of blue are necessarily co-apprehended, they are non-different. But the opponent says: necessary relation does not prove identity. Two things can be connected and still different.
The example is chidi-kriyā, the act of cutting. Cutting is connected with chedya, what is cut. There is no cutting without something being cut. Yet the act of cutting and the object cut are not identical. The knife-action and the wood are related, but different. So, the opponent argues, why not say the same about cognition and object? Jñāna-kriyā, the act of knowing, may be connected with jñeya, the knowable, while still being distinct from it.
This is a serious objection. It attacks the Buddhist inference at exactly the right point. The Buddhist says: because blue and blue-cognition are always together, they are non-different. The opponent replies: togetherness or necessary connection may show relation, but not identity. Therefore sahopalambha-niyama, necessary co-apprehension, may still occur even where difference remains. If so, its exclusion from the vipakṣa, the contrary case, becomes doubtful.
So this is not a trivial objection. It says: co-apprehension might prove inseparability in experience, but it does not automatically prove ontological non-difference. The Buddhist answer will now have to show why cognition-object relation is not like cutting-cut object relation.
Answer: blue and blue-cognition are simultaneous because cognition is self-aware and object-aware
atra - jñānasvaparasaṃvedyatāmātreṇaiva nīlataddhiyoryugapadgrahaṇaniyamasyopapatteḥ bāhyābhāvājjñānaṃ parasya saṃvedakaṃ na bhavati ityuttarapakṣaḥ |
“Here the reply is this: the necessary simultaneous grasping of blue and the cognition of blue is explained simply by cognition’s being aware of itself and of what appears as other. Since there is no external object, cognition does not become the knower of something other than itself.”
The Buddhist answer now distinguishes cognition from the cutting example. Cutting and what is cut can be related while remaining different, because both are taken as external items within a field of action. But cognition and object are not like that. Blue is not standing outside cognition the way wood stands outside the cutting action.
The phrase jñāna-sva-para-saṃvedyatā-mātreṇa is the key. Cognition is aware of itself and of what appears as other. The simultaneous grasping of blue and blue-cognition — nīla-tad-dhiyoḥ yugapad-grahaṇa-niyama — is explained by this alone. Cognition does not need an external blue outside itself in order for blue to appear. The blue is the object-aspect of cognition, while the cognition is also self-present.
Then the answer becomes direct: bāhya-abhāvāt — because there is no external object. Therefore jñānaṃ parasya saṃvedakaṃ na bhavati — cognition is not the knower of something other, something outside itself. It is not reaching across a gap to grasp an independent object. What appears as blue is internal to cognition’s own appearing.
So the cutting analogy fails. Cutting can be connected with a different thing, because both act and object are placed in an external relation. But cognition is not externally related to blue. Blue appears only as blue-cognition. Therefore the co-apprehension is not merely relation; it indicates non-difference.
Again, this is still the Buddhist answer. Abhinava is allowing it to stand as part of the technical defense. Its force is clear: the object is not an external partner of cognition. It is the appearing-form of cognition itself.
The same removal of defects applies to examples such as variegated cognition
dṛṣṭāntadharmaṇi api citrajñānādau hetorevamevāsiddhatādidoṣāḥ parihṛtā bhavantyeva
“And likewise, with regard to the example — such as variegated cognition and the like — defects such as the unestablishedness of the reason are removed in just this same way.”
The text now extends the defense from the hetu, the reason, to the dṛṣṭānta, the example. Earlier, the Buddhist argument used cases such as citra-jñāna, variegated cognition, to show how many appearances can be present within one cognition without requiring separate external objects. Now the text says that the same defense applies there too.
The possible worry is that the example itself might be defective. If the example is unclear, then the inference becomes weak. But the gloss says that defects such as asiddhatā, unestablishedness, are removed in the same way. The logic that defended the main reason also defends the example.
In plain terms: the example of variegated cognition is not loose. When many colors appear in one variegated cognition, we do not need to posit many external objects separately standing outside cognition. The variety appears within the cognitive event itself. Therefore the example supports the Buddhist point: plurality of appearance does not prove separateness from cognition.
This is another dry but necessary step in the inferential machinery. The text is making sure that neither the reason nor the example collapses under technical scrutiny. The Buddhist argument remains intact: what is known is not different from the cognition knowing it, and examples like citra-jñāna can be used without falling into the usual defects.
Once the defects in the reason are removed, defects in the example have no room
hetudoṣeṣu tu parihṛteṣu dṛṣṭāntādidoṣā niravakāśā eva
“But once the defects in the reason have been removed, defects in the example and the like have no room at all.”
The text now draws the procedural conclusion. If the hetu, the inferential reason, has been defended against the main defects — if it is not asiddha, not unestablished; not viruddha, contradicted; not anaikāntika, inconclusive; and not marked by doubtful exclusion from the contrary case — then objections against the dṛṣṭānta, the example, lose their footing.
This is formal logic, but the practical point is simple: once the central inferential relation is secured, secondary attacks on the example cannot do much. The example serves the reason; it does not carry the whole argument independently. If the reason itself is sound, the example does not have enough space to generate a separate collapse.
So the Buddhist proof is being closed from the technical side. The argument that object and cognition are non-different, based on knowability and necessary co-apprehension, has been defended against the expected objections. The examples such as citra-jñāna are also protected because the same logic applies there.
This is still the dry analytic tunnel. But now we are near the exit. The text has finished enough of the inferential defense to say: the machinery has already been worked out; there is no need to keep repeating it.
This has already been extensively settled, so there is no need to repeat it
ityādi bahunirṇītakalpamaparaireva iti kiṃ tadanubhāṣaṇakleśena |
“Since this and the like has already been extensively determined by others, what is the point of the labor of repeating it?”
The text now exits the technical debate. After presenting the Buddhist inference, defending the hetu, answering objections about sahopalambha-niyama, and removing defects in the example, the passage says: enough. These matters have already been extensively settled by others. Why undergo the strain of repeating them?
The phrase tadanubhāṣaṇa-kleśa is almost relieving. It literally marks the labor, the weariness, of restating all this. Abhinava is not pretending that this inferential machinery is the heart of the matter. It has its place. It proves something important: cognition and object cannot be treated as ultimately separate. The Buddhist argument has force. But Abhinava does not want to drown the reader in already-settled scholastic litigation.
This is exactly why the passage felt so dry and difficult. It is a low-level technical defense, not the main current of the Vivarana. Abhinava enters it only as much as needed, lets the Buddhist reasoning do its work, and then refuses to remain trapped there. The purpose was not to become a Buddhist logician inside the commentary. The purpose was to secure one crucial result and move on.
So this line is the door out of the tunnel. The object is not separable from cognition; the crude realist split has been cut. Now the ground is ready for Abhinava to return to what matters for his own vision: prātibha, Parāśakti, the dissolving of glāni, and the living power of consciousness.
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