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| A contemplative figure seated amid endless reflected lights, suggesting the infinite variety of experience arising within one field of consciousness. |
The previous chunk ended by distinguishing the modes of aham and idam with great precision. In Śiva, awareness rests as pure “I.” In Sadāśiva, “this” begins to shine inside the “I,” but indistinctly. In Īśvara, the “this”-portion becomes clear and presses the “I”-reflection into manifestation. In Māyā, the two appear in separate supports as grasper and grasped. Śuddhavidyā heals that split by bringing “I” and “this” into one substratum.
But this creates a new danger. If Abhinava says that “this” becomes clear in Īśvara, and that different beings or states have different forms of “I-this” awareness, one might suspect that this contradicts the āgamic structure already established. Does the “this” in Īśvara mean the same thing as the “this” in Māyā? Is the “I” of Vijñānākala the same as the “I” of Śiva? Is the “this am I” of Pralayakevalin the same as the divine idam aham of Īśvara? If one reads carelessly, the whole map begins to blur.
So this chunk acts as a protective clarification. Abhinava says: do not think the previous distinction creates a contradiction with the āgama. The same words — aham, idam, aham idam, idam aham — can function at very different depths of awakening. The words may look similar, but the vimarśa behind them is not the same.
This is the heart of the passage. In the highest states, “I” and “this” are forms of awakened self-recognition. In the lower or unawakened states, similar structures appear, but they are marked by aprabodha, non-awakening. The Vijñānākala may have awareness of “I, not this,” but that “I” is still unawakened. The Pralayakevalin may have a kind of “this am I,” but it is still unawakened. In Māyā, there may even be a nirvikalpa-like vital vimarśa underneath experience, but the later operative awareness works through vikalpa, through difference: “this is my body,” “I am the knower,” “this pot is the known.”
This is extremely important because Abhinava is not making a crude ladder where the lower levels have no consciousness and the higher levels have consciousness. Consciousness is present everywhere. Even differentiated experience borrows its being from a deeper vimarśa. But the mode of recognition differs. At one level, consciousness knows itself clearly as all. At another, it contracts into “I, not this.” At another, it identifies with body and object through conceptual difference.
The final movement of the chunk then defends divine sovereignty. If even later conceptual awareness depends on a deeper non-conceptual consciousness, and if no separate cause can be found apart from that consciousness, then the infinite variety of experience is not a defect or loss of lordship. It is precisely the power of avikalpa-saṃvid, non-conceptual consciousness. Lordship remains intact even in the field of Vaikharī, Māyīya objects, and Madhyamā. Mere shining is not enough; vimarśa is possible there too, though in different degrees and modes.
So the passage continues the same nerve as before, but with more danger and subtlety. It asks us not merely to identify “I” and “this,” but to ask whether they are awakened or unawakened, pure or impure, non-conceptual or conceptually divided, sovereign or contracted. The same verbal form can hide very different levels of consciousness. Abhinava is teaching the reader to hear the depth behind the phrase.
This should not be read as contradicting the āgama already shown
tat pradarśitāgamaviparyāsaṅkāyuktam - iti na mantavyam
“This should not be thought to involve the suspicion of contradicting the āgama already demonstrated.”
Abhinava begins this new movement by blocking a wrong reading before it spreads. The previous discussion distinguished Śiva, Sadāśiva, Īśvara, Śuddhavidyā, Māyā, Vijñānākala, and other states through the shifting relation of aham and idam — “I” and “this.” But because the same verbal patterns appear in different places, a reader may start to worry: does this overturn the āgamic structure already established? Are the classifications becoming unstable?
Abhinava says no. This is not to be taken as pradarśita-āgama-viparyāsa-śaṅkā-yuktam — not as something that gives rise to suspicion that the already-shown āgama has been reversed or contradicted. The earlier āgamic order still stands. What is changing now is not the doctrine, but the level of discrimination with which we read the same terms.
This is important because aham, idam, aham idam, and idam aham are not flat formulas. The phrase may look similar, but the depth of vimarśa behind it can differ radically. “I” in Śiva is not the same as the unawakened “I” of the Vijñānākala. “This am I” in Īśvara is not the same as the unawakened identification of the Pralayakevalin. The words may echo each other, but the consciousness-state is not the same.
So Abhinava is asking the reader to hold two things at once. First, the āgamic hierarchy is not being cancelled. Second, the hierarchy must be read with subtle attention to the form of awareness operating in each level. The same grammatical shape can conceal very different degrees of awakening, non-awakening, purity, contraction, and recognition.
This opening is therefore protective. It keeps the reader from flattening the doctrine into contradiction. Abhinava is not undoing the āgama. He is making the reader precise enough not to confuse divine idam aham with bound identification, or pure aham with the contracted ego’s “I.”
Utpaladeva explains the vimarśa-form in Mantra-Maheśa and Mahāmāyā
mantramaheśādiṣu [śuddhavidyāmahāmāyāyāṃ vimarśasvarūpamāha utpaladevamahodayaḥ - mantreti |] tu rūpaṃ bodhaikaparamārthamapi aparabodhaikaparamārthāt anyat
“But in the Mantra-Maheśa and related states, although the form has consciousness alone as its ultimate reality, it is different from the lower form whose ultimate reality is also consciousness alone. The gloss says: the venerable Utpaladeva explains the nature of vimarśa in Śuddhavidyā-Mahāmāyā with the word ‘mantra.’”
Abhinava now begins the clarification promised in the previous line. The issue is delicate: if all these levels have bodha — consciousness — as their sole ultimate reality, then how are they different? If the Mantra-Maheśas, Mahāmāyā, Vijñānākalas, Pralayakevalins, and even Māyā-bound knowers all ultimately rest in consciousness, why not collapse the distinctions?
The answer is: because having consciousness as ultimate reality does not mean the vimarśa-form is the same. The metaphysical ground may be one, but the mode of self-recognition differs. This is the whole pressure of the chunk. Consciousness is present everywhere, but it is not equally awakened everywhere.
So, in mantramaheśādiṣu, the Mantra-Maheśa and similar states, the form is indeed bodhaika-paramārtha — consciousness alone is its final truth. But it is still anyat, different, from apara-bodhaika-paramārtha, the lower form that also has consciousness alone as its final truth. The shared ground does not erase the difference in manifestation. A spark and a flame may both be fire, but they do not function in the same way.
The gloss places this specifically in Śuddhavidyā-Mahāmāyā and says that Utpaladeva is explaining the vimarśa-svarūpa, the form of reflective awareness, there. That matters because this passage is not interested in abstract ontology alone. It is asking: what is the inner self-apprehension of each state? How does consciousness say “I,” “this,” “I-this,” or “this-I” there? Is it awakened? Is it covered? Is it dominant as subject, object, or relation?
This prevents a common but lazy nondual flattening. One cannot simply say, “Everything is consciousness, therefore all states are the same.” Abhinava’s whole point is sharper: yes, everything is consciousness; but consciousness can appear as fully awakened lordship, as pure relation, as contracted selfhood, as unawakened “I,” or as divided grasper and grasped. The reality is one, but the vimarśa is not one in expression.
In Mahāmāyā, awareness is “I, and this again is only this”
aham idaṃ punaridameva [punariti uparivartyahantāyā bhinnamevedamaṃśaprādhānyaṃ yasmānmahāmāyeti saṃjñā paraiḥ kṛtā yaduktaṃ tatraiva bhedadhīreveti |] iti saṃvit
“The awareness is: ‘I — this — and again, this itself.’ The gloss explains that ‘again’ indicates the predominance of the ‘this’-portion as distinct from the I-ness that remains above it. Because of this, others have given it the name Mahāmāyā, as it is said there: ‘there alone is the cognition of difference.’”
Abhinava now gives the actual form of awareness in this Mahāmāyā/Śuddhavidyā-related level. The formula is strange and important: aham idaṃ punar idam eva — “I, this, and again this itself.” The “I” is present. The “this” is also present. But the repetition — punar idam eva, “again, this itself” — shows that the idam-aṃśa, the “this”-portion, has become dominant.
This is not yet the ordinary gross split of Māyā-bound experience, where “I” and “this” fall into separate supports as grasper and grasped. But neither is it the pure absorption of “this” into “I.” There is already a strong leaning toward manifestation as “this.” The gloss says this clearly: the “this”-portion becomes prominent as distinct from the I-ness that remains above it — uparivartinī ahantā. The “I” is still there, but it stands above, while the field below is marked by the predominance of “this.”
This is why the name Mahāmāyā becomes meaningful. “Māyā” here does not mean mere illusion in the cheap sense. It means the power by which difference can become thinkable, visible, articulated. And Mahāmāyā is not yet the crude ignorance of the ordinary bound subject; it is a higher, more subtle matrix where difference begins to gain emphasis without fully losing its divine ground.
The cited phrase — tatraiva bhedadhīr eva, “there alone is the cognition of difference” — makes the point sharper. In this state, the cognition of difference has real force. The “this” is no longer merely a faint shimmer inside “I,” as in Sadāśiva. It is not merely balanced with “I.” It is beginning to stand in its own prominence. Yet it still remains within the larger field of consciousness.
So this point protects us from flattening Mahāmāyā into either pure unity or ordinary ignorance. It is a threshold-state. Consciousness is still the sole ultimate reality, but the mode of vimarśa has shifted: the display of “this” has become strong enough that difference can be cognized as difference. The descent has not yet become gross bondage, but the seed of differentiated awareness is now active.
For Vijñānākalas, awareness is “I, not this,” but still unawakened
vijñānākalānāṃ tu bodhaikaparamārthenāpi rūpeṇa ahaṃ nedam iti saṃvit
“But for the Vijñānākalas, even though their form has consciousness alone as its ultimate reality, the awareness is: ‘I, not this.’”
Abhinava now turns from Mahāmāyā to the Vijñānākalas. Again, he preserves the same difficult balance: their reality too is bodhaika-paramārtha — consciousness alone is their ultimate truth. They are not outside consciousness. Nothing is. But their vimarśa does not have the fullness of awakened recognition.
Their awareness is ahaṃ nedam — “I, not this.” This is already a very different contraction from Mahāmāyā’s aham idaṃ punar idam eva, where the “this”-portion became prominent. In the Vijñānākala state, the “this” is denied or absent from recognition. There is “I,” but not the full recognition of manifestation as one’s own body.
This can sound high if heard carelessly: “I, not this” resembles detachment, withdrawal, transcendence. But Abhinava is not praising it as final. The “I” here is not the full Śiva-aham that freely contains and manifests everything. It is an incomplete “I,” a consciousness-principle that does not awaken to the “this” as its own expression. The world is not embraced; it is excluded.
So the defect is subtle. The Vijñānākala is not lost in gross objectivity like the ordinary Māyā-bound subject, but neither is there full lordship. Consciousness remains as “I,” yet without awakened power over manifestation. The “this” is not integrated. There is purity compared to gross bondage, but also limitation: the “I” is isolated from its own display.
This is why Abhinava keeps repeating that consciousness as ultimate reality is not enough as a slogan. The question is not whether consciousness is present. The question is whether consciousness recognizes both itself and its manifestation. In the Vijñānākala, the answer is partial: aham, yes; idam, no.
Because of non-awakening, only “I” remains there — but unawakened
aprabodhāt ahamityeva tatra aprabuddham
“Because of non-awakening, there only ‘I’ remains — but unawakened.”
Abhinava now adds the decisive qualification to the Vijñānākala state. The awareness there is ahaṃ nedam — “I, not this.” But this should not be mistaken for the awakened aham of Śiva. The text says plainly: aprabodhāt — because of non-awakening. The “I” remains, but it is aprabuddham, unawakened.
This is a very sharp distinction. A bare “I” is not automatically liberation. One can withdraw from the world, reject the “this,” stand in a kind of objectless self-sense, and still not be fully awake. The absence of objectivity is not the same as the fullness of Śiva. The Vijñānākala has not fallen into gross Māyā-bound identification with body and object, but neither has he awakened to sovereign consciousness that freely contains manifestation.
This is why the state resembles the neti-neti approach associated with Advaita Vedānta: “I am not this, not this.” The consciousness-principle withdraws from objectivity and refuses identification with the field of idam. But Abhinava’s evaluation is different. For him, this withdrawal is not the final recognition. It may free awareness from gross identification, but it still does not reveal the full lordship in which idam is known as the Self’s own manifestation. The “this” has been negated, not divinely integrated.
So the limitation is not crude ignorance of the world. It is a subtler incompleteness: aham remains without full recognition. It does not yet know itself as the Lord whose freedom includes idam. The “this” is excluded, not mastered; absent, not integrated. That is why this “I” is still unawakened.
This point is important for the whole passage. Abhinava is refusing two errors at once. He refuses materialistic dualism, where the world is treated as separate from consciousness. But he also refuses a sterile transcendence where consciousness merely says “not this” and calls that completion. Full recognition is not the mutilation of manifestation. It is the awakened power in which “I” and “this” are known as one’s own freedom.
For Pralayakevalins, the unawakened awareness is “this am I”
pralayakevalinām idamaham ityaprabuddhameva
“For the Pralayakevalins, the awareness ‘this am I’ is also unawakened.”
Abhinava now turns to the Pralayakevalins. In the previous point, the Vijñānākala state was marked by ahaṃ nedam — “I, not this.” There was a kind of “I,” but it remained unawakened because the “this” was not integrated. Here the pattern shifts. For the Pralayakevalins, the form is idam aham — “this am I.” But Abhinava immediately adds: aprabuddham eva — it too is unawakened.
This is important because the formula idam aham can sound dangerously close to the Īśvara-state described earlier. In Īśvara, when the “this”-portion becomes clear, the awareness turns toward “this am I”: the universe shines vividly as manifestation, while still being recognized as the body of the divine “I.” But in the Pralayakevalin, this same verbal form is not awakened. The words look similar, but the depth of vimarśa is not the same.
That is exactly why this chunk was needed. Abhinava is preventing us from reading formulas mechanically. Idam aham in Īśvara is sovereign recognition: “this universe is myself.” Idam aham in Pralayakevalin is an unawakened identification. The “this” is not clearly known as the free self-display of consciousness. It is a contracted or latent form of awareness, still marked by non-recognition.
So the same phrase can indicate two radically different states. In one, “this” is divine manifestation, fully held in lordship. In the other, “this” is bound up with non-awakening. The criterion is not the phrase alone. The criterion is the mode of consciousness behind it: awakened recognition or aprabodha.
This also deepens the contrast with the Vijñānākala. The Vijñānākala says, in effect, “I, not this,” but that exclusion is unawakened. The Pralayakevalin leans toward “this am I,” but that identification too is unawakened. One lacks integration of manifestation; the other lacks awakened discrimination of what that manifestation truly is. In both cases, consciousness is present, but recognition is incomplete.
Here this applies to Pralayākala, Māyāpada, and Sakala
atra [atra - pralayākale māyāpade - sakale ca |]
“Here — that is, in the Pralayākala, in the Māyā-level, and also in the Sakala.”
The gloss now clarifies the scope of atra, “here.” Abhinava is not speaking only about one narrow state. The unawakened forms of awareness just described have to be understood across the lower field: Pralayākala, Māyāpada, and Sakala.
This matters because the passage is tracing how consciousness can remain present while recognition is still incomplete. In the Vijñānākala, there is “I, not this,” but the “I” is unawakened. In the Pralayakevalin, there is “this am I,” but that too is unawakened. Now the gloss extends the discussion into the broader lower range: the causal latency of Pralayākala, the Māyā-level, and the fully embodied Sakala condition.
The point is not that these states are identical. They are not. But they share the crucial mark of aprabodha, non-awakening. Consciousness is present; some form of vimarśa is present; but it has not become the sovereign recognition of Śiva. The light is there, but its self-recognition is contracted, latent, or distorted through limitation.
This is why Abhinava is being so careful with formulas like aham, idam, and idam aham. In higher states, these can express divine self-recognition. In lower states, the same shapes can appear in unawakened form. The phrase alone does not decide the level. The living depth of recognition decides it.
In Māyāpada, a vital vimarśa is present beneath nirvikalpa-like appearance
māyāpade ca tannirvikalpakatābhāsena yadyapi asti tathāvidha eva prāṇabhūto vimarśaḥ
“And in the Māyā-level too, although there is indeed a vimarśa of that kind, vital in nature, through the appearance of its non-conceptuality…”
Abhinava now goes even lower, into Māyāpada, and he still refuses to say that consciousness has disappeared. Even there, beneath the differentiated field, there is tathāvidha eva prāṇabhūto vimarśaḥ — a vimarśa of that very kind, functioning as the life-breath, the vital core of experience.
This is important. Māyā does not mean that experience becomes dead matter outside consciousness. Even the Māyā-bound world is alive only because some form of vimarśa pulses within it. Without that inner reflective power, nothing could appear, be known, be related, or become meaningful. The apparent world depends on a deeper self-luminous consciousness even when that consciousness is not recognized.
But Abhinava qualifies this carefully: it appears through tannirvikalpakatābhāsa — through an appearance of non-conceptuality. This is not the full awakened avikalpa of supreme recognition. It is a kind of underlying, pre-conceptual vitality that supports later conceptual experience. Before the mind says, “this is my body,” “I am the knower,” “this is the object,” there is already a raw appearing, a living illumination.
So Māyāpada is not sheer absence of truth. It has a hidden pulse. There is a non-conceptual basis, a vital vimarśa, but it is not yet recognized as lordship. It becomes the ground on which later vikalpa, conceptual division, will operate. That is why the next point is necessary: although this deeper vimarśa is present, the actual practical transaction of the Māyā-bound subject proceeds through difference.
This is very subtle. Abhinava is neither demonizing Māyā as absolute falsehood nor romanticizing it as already liberation. He is saying: yes, even there the living current of consciousness is present. But how it is later handled by awareness determines bondage. The pulse is divine; the subsequent grasping is divided.
Later conceptual vimarśa operates through difference
tathāpi tadrūpavyavahārakasya tatprasādāsāditasattākasyāpi tadavyatiriktasyāpi vā paścāttanasya vimarśasya idaṃ śarīrādi ahamahaṃ yo'sau jñātā idaṃ ghaṭādikam idaṃ yattat jñeyam iti bhedenaiva vimarśarūpatayā vyavahāro vikalpātmaiva
“Nevertheless, the later vimarśa that carries out practical dealings in that form — even though it has obtained its existence through the grace of that prior vimarśa, or even though it is not separate from it — operates as conceptual construction, in the form of difference: ‘this body and so on is I’; ‘I am the knower’; ‘this pot and so on is this’; ‘that is the knowable.’”
Abhinava now makes the decisive turn. In the Māyā-level, there is indeed a vital, non-conceptual-like vimarśa underneath experience. But this does not mean that the ordinary Māyā-bound subject lives in pure recognition. The later operative awareness — paścāttana vimarśa — functions through vikalpa, conceptual differentiation.
This later awareness performs the transactions of ordinary life: idaṃ śarīrādi aham — “this body and so on is I”; ahaṃ yo ’sau jñātā — “I am that knower”; idaṃ ghaṭādikam — “this pot and so on”; idaṃ yat tat jñeyam — “this is the knowable.” This is the familiar structure of experience: I am this body, I am the subject, that is the object, this is something to be known. The world is divided into grasper, grasping, and grasped.
But Abhinava does not say this later vimarśa is independent. It has its existence through the grace of the deeper vimarśa — tatprasāda-āsādita-sattā. Or, even more strongly, it is not separate from it — tad-avyatirikta. This is crucial. Conceptual, differentiated awareness is not outside consciousness. It borrows its being from the deeper non-conceptual pulse. Even bondage is powered by consciousness.
Still, the mode of operation is different. The deeper vimarśa is vital and non-conceptual-like; the later vimarśa is practical, transactional, and difference-based. It is not false in the sense of being sheer nothing. It functions. It organizes the world. It allows embodied life. But it does so by dividing: body as self, self as knower, pot as known object.
So Abhinava’s view is brutally precise. The ordinary person is not outside Śiva, but neither is ordinary cognition already full realization. The same consciousness supports both non-conceptual vitality and conceptual division. The difference lies in whether awareness rests in its own source or becomes entangled in the practical grammar of “I am this body” and “that is the object.”
Even if another cause is imagined, it ends in inseparability from that same awareness
tatra tu tathāvidhatve kāraṇāntarāsaṃvedanātkalpyamāne'pi ca kāraṇe punarapi tahāvidhabodhāvinirbhāgamātraparyavasānāt
“But there, since no other cause is experienced for its being such, even if another cause is imagined, it still ends only in inseparability from that very kind of awareness.”
Abhinava now tightens the metaphysical argument behind the previous point. Ordinary differentiated awareness operates through vikalpa: “this body is I,” “I am the knower,” “this pot is the known.” But where does even this divided, conceptual operation get its power? What makes it appear, function, and sustain itself?
One may try to imagine some other cause — kāraṇāntara — behind it. Perhaps something outside consciousness explains this difference-based cognition. Perhaps Māyā, body, mind, object, or causal structure has independent power. Abhinava blocks that move. Such another cause is not actually experienced — kāraṇāntara-asaṃvedana. And even if one imagines it, the explanation still ends in tathāvidha-bodha-avinirbhāga — inseparability from that very form of awareness.
This is a very important step. Abhinava is not saying that conceptual division is supreme recognition. He has just said the opposite: it is vikalpa, operating through difference. But he also refuses to let that divided cognition become an independent second reality. Even bondage cannot explain itself apart from consciousness. Even the mistaken identification “this body is I” shines only because awareness gives it being.
So the logic is clean: the later vikalpa-based vimarśa may appear divided, but its very capacity to appear and operate depends on a deeper awareness from which it is not separate. If another cause is proposed, that cause too must be known, and therefore must fall within awareness. There is no escape route outside saṃvid.
This preserves the sovereignty of consciousness without romanticizing ordinary cognition. Difference-based awareness is bound, yes. It is conceptually structured, yes. But it is not outside Śiva. Its bondage lies in its mode of recognition, not in some independent existence apart from consciousness.
Non-conceptual consciousness itself has the power to produce infinite variety
tasyaiva avikalpasaṃvidātmanaḥ tathā sāmarthyaṃ tathā sāmarthyayogādeva ca tadanantavaicitryātmakatvam - iti aiśvaryamanapāyi siddhyet
“Therefore, that very non-conceptual consciousness itself has such power; and precisely because it possesses such power, it has the nature of infinite variety. Thus, its lordship is established as unfailing.”
Abhinava now draws the conclusion from the previous point. Even the later conceptual, difference-based awareness cannot be explained by some independent cause outside consciousness. If another cause is imagined, that cause too ends in inseparability from awareness. Therefore the power belongs to that very avikalpa-saṃvid — non-conceptual consciousness itself.
This is a major turn. Non-conceptual consciousness is not a blank silence that becomes helpless before variety. It has sāmarthya, power, capacity, potency. It can give rise to differentiated experience without ceasing to be itself. The fact that concepts, distinctions, bodies, knowers, objects, and worlds appear does not prove a fall from consciousness into something alien. It proves the astonishing power of consciousness to manifest variety from within itself.
That is why Abhinava says tadananta-vaicitryātmakatvam — it has the nature of infinite variety. The many forms are not outside the non-conceptual ground. They are expressions of its capacity. This is crucial because a weaker nondualism might treat variety as a problem to be erased. Abhinava does not do that. Variety is not a stain on consciousness. Variety is the display of its lordship.
And therefore aiśvaryam anapāyi siddhyet — lordship is established as unfailing, not lost. If consciousness could only remain pure by excluding manifestation, its sovereignty would be fragile. It would be like a king who can rule only an empty kingdom. But true aiśvarya means that consciousness remains itself while also appearing as endless forms, levels, cognitions, bodies, and worlds.
This also clarifies why Abhinava has been so careful with Māyā. Even Māyā-bound vikalpa is not independent of consciousness. Its divided mode is bondage, but its very appearing still testifies to the power of saṃvid. The mistake is not that variety exists. The mistake is taking variety as separate from the non-conceptual consciousness whose power makes it possible.
Lordship remains unlost when this reality is accepted
asyāṃ ca sattāyāmaiśvaryamanapetaṃ -
“And when this reality is accepted, lordship remains unlost.”
Abhinava now states the result directly. If the infinite variety of experience is rooted in the power of non-conceptual consciousness itself, then aiśvarya — lordship, sovereignty — is not lost. Consciousness does not become less sovereign because differentiated cognition appears. Its lordship is shown precisely by the fact that it can appear as difference without ceasing to be itself.
This is the answer to a hidden anxiety in the passage. If Māyā-bound cognition operates through vikalpa, through divided forms like “I am the body,” “I am the knower,” “this pot is the known,” then one might think that consciousness has somehow fallen, weakened, or been overpowered. Abhinava refuses that. The divided form is a contraction, yes, but the power by which even that contraction appears belongs to consciousness.
So asyāṃ sattāyām — when this mode of being, this reality, is admitted — lordship remains intact. The world of difference does not prove the failure of Śiva. It proves the depth of Śiva’s power. A consciousness that could remain sovereign only in pure undifferentiated stillness would not be fully sovereign. True lordship means that even Vaikharī, Māyīya objects, Madhyamā, conceptual distinction, and practical worldly dealings are not outside its field.
This is why the passage is so careful. Abhinava does not say ordinary vikalpa is already liberation. That would be false. But he also does not let vikalpa become an independent enemy of consciousness. Difference is bondage when it is misrecognized as separate. But the capacity for difference belongs to the same unfailing aiśvarya. The Lord is not defeated by manifestation. Manifestation, even in its contracted form, is still dependent on the Lord’s power.
Therefore such vimarśa is possible even in Vaikharī, Māyīya objects, and Madhyamā
yato vairkhayātmani evaṃmāyīye vedye'pi vā madhyamāmaye dhāmni bhāsanātirekyapi saṃbhāvya evaṃ vimarśaḥ |
“Therefore, even in the Vaikharī-form, or even in a Māyīya object to be known, or in the Madhyamā-made domain, such vimarśa is possible beyond mere shining.”
Abhinava now completes the movement of the chunk. Since non-conceptual consciousness itself has the power to appear as infinite variety, and since its lordship is not lost even when difference and conceptual cognition arise, the field of vimarśa cannot be restricted only to the highest levels. It is possible even in Vaikharī, even in Māyīya objects, even in the Madhyamā domain.
This is a strong conclusion. Vaikharī is the outward level of articulated speech. Māyīya objects are objects within the field of Māyā, things that appear as knowable and differentiated. Madhyamā is subtler inward speech, but still not the supreme ground. Abhinava is saying that even there, in these lower or more manifest fields, awareness is not mere passive illumination. There can be vimarśa — reflective self-apprehension, the inner pulse by which consciousness does not merely shine but also grasps, relates, and recognizes.
The phrase bhāsanātirekyapi is crucial: “beyond mere shining.” Consciousness is not only light falling on objects. It is not a dead lamp. It has self-referential power. Even when an object appears in Māyā, even when speech becomes Vaikharī, even when the field operates through Madhyamā, there is more than appearance. There is some mode of reflective awareness at work, though it may be contracted, conceptual, or unawakened.
Abhinava has defended the sovereignty of consciousness not by denying lower experience, but by showing that even lower experience depends on vimarśa. The Māyā-bound subject may say, “I am this body,” “I am the knower,” “this pot is the known.” That is vikalpa, yes. It is divided and bound. But its very capacity to function comes from the deeper power of consciousness. Even error is not outside the light. Even conceptual division is animated by the Lord’s own unfailing aiśvarya.
So the passage does not flatten all states into liberation. It does something more exact. It shows that consciousness remains sovereign through all states, while the mode of recognition differs. In the highest, vimarśa is awakened self-recognition. In the lower, it becomes contracted, conceptual, and difference-based. But it never becomes mere inert appearance. There is always more than shining: there is the hidden pulse of awareness recognizing, misrecognizing, relating, and eventually able to return to itself.
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