Parātrīṃśikā Vivaraṇa (Part 119): Bhinnayoni and the Countless Forms of Mālinī

Śiva-Śakti surrounded by womb-like circles, showing Mālinī as the fertile matrix from which countless kula-forms and powers unfold.

The previous passage unfolded Mālinī as the Śākta mantra-body in which letters, organs, senses, tattvas, and powers interpenetrate. Abhinava showed that this dense ritual mapping is not arbitrary symbolism. It is the practical unfolding of sarvasarvātmakatva: everything is all-formed, and the body itself becomes the place where the whole adhvan can be installed through mantra. At the end, the entire arrangement was brought back to the reflection doctrine: Parābhaṭṭārikā offers her own reflection in Paśyantī, and from that reflection the body of Mālinī becomes ritually visible.

Now Abhinava explains why Mālinī appears in countless differentiated forms.

This is the natural next question. If Mālinī is the Goddess as mantra-body, and if each letter, organ, tattva, and power can hold many correspondences, why are there so many different arrangements? Why do different śāstras give different letter placements, different mantra extractions, different ritual sequences, different siddhis? Is this again just arbitrary tantric plurality?

Abhinava’s answer continues the same logic: Mālinī is bhinnayoni, of differentiated womb, within the Madhyamā-domain established in identity with the Self. The womb of Śakti is not a single flat container. It is infinitely fertile. Seed and womb interpenetrate in countless ways; therefore Mālinī has innumerable forms according to different kulas, kula-puruṣas, kula-śaktis, lineages, bodies, and ritual streams.

This is why the scripture says she should be worshipped surrounded by infinite kula-bodies and kula-śaktis. Mālinī is not one narrow goddess-form. She is the alphabetic womb through which countless ritual bodies and Śākta lineages become possible. The same Goddess manifests differently according to the specific kula-field through which she is approached.

But Abhinava immediately adds a practical restriction. If everything is Śakti and everything is rooted in freedom, why does every practice not give every siddhi? Why does any rule remain? Here he introduces niyati again. As long as the operation of niyati is not surpassed, particular practices yield particular results. Just as specific herbs produce specific effects, specific bhāvanās, mantras, nyāsas, homas, and ritual procedures produce specific siddhis.

This is very important. Abhinava is not collapsing ritual into vague omnipotence. Śakti is free, but within manifested practice, power operates through precise channels. A mantra has a field. A nyāsa has a field. A śāstra has its own arrangement. A presiding letter-deity gives priority to a particular sequence. From that arrangement, specific mantras are extracted, and from those mantras specific powers arise.

So this chunk continues the same balance we have seen everywhere: total freedom, but not chaos; infinite variation, but not arbitrariness; all-in-all nature, but still functional specificity. Mālinī is infinitely fertile because she is bhinnayoni, but that fertility flowers through definite kula-forms, śāstric arrangements, mantra-prastāras, and siddhi-paths.

Mālinī attains bhinnayoni within the Madhyamā-domain established in identity with the Self

svātmatādātmyavyavasthitamadhyamadhāmni bhinnayonitāmaśnuvānā

“Within the Madhyamā-domain established in identity with the Self, Mālinī attains the state of being bhinnayoni — of differentiated womb.”

Abhinava now returns to Mālinī’s bhinnayoni nature, but with a crucial qualification. This differentiation does not occur outside the Self. It arises in the Madhyamā-dhāman, the domain of Madhyamā, which is svātma-tādātmya-vyavasthita — established in identity with one’s own Self.

This matters because bhinnayoni can easily be misunderstood as fragmentation. Mālinī is “of divided womb,” but this division is not alienation from consciousness. It is differentiation inside identity. The womb becomes manifold, but it remains grounded in the Self. The letters, lineages, bodies, powers, and mantraic forms can diversify endlessly because the field underneath them has not lost its unity.

Madhyamā is exactly the right place for this. In Parā, the Goddess is still unarticulated fullness. In Vaikharī, speech has become external and sequential. Madhyamā is the inner speech-field where differentiation begins to take form while still remaining inwardly held in consciousness. So Mālinī’s bhinnayoni nature belongs here: not crude external division, but the inner womb of Śakti becoming capable of countless articulated forms.

This is the key to the next movement. Mālinī can appear in innumerable kula-forms because her womb is differentiated, but that differentiation is not chaos. It is rooted in Self-identity. Her plurality is not weakness. It is fertility. The one speech-consciousness becomes many wombs, many seeds, many bodies, many ritual streams — without ceasing to be one Śakti.

Mālinī has countless forms through the infinite interpenetration of seed and womb

tattadyonibījaparasparasaṃbhedavaicitryasya ānantyādasaṃkhyenaiva prakāreṇa tattatkulapuruṣādibhedenāparigaṇanabhedabhāginī mālinyeva

“Because the variety of mutual interpenetration between each womb and seed is infinite, Mālinī herself possesses countless differentiations in innumerable ways, according to the distinctions of the various kula-puruṣas and the like.”

Abhinava now explains why Mālinī is not one flat mantra-form. She is bhinnayoni, of differentiated womb, because the relations of yoni and bīja — womb and seed — are infinitely varied. Each womb-seed configuration produces a different mode of Śākta manifestation. The Goddess is one, but Her fertility is not uniform.

The phrase paraspara-saṃbheda-vaicitrya is central. Seed and womb do not merely stand beside each other. They interpenetrate, enter one another, modify one another’s expression, and produce variety through their mutual contact. This continues the earlier doctrine: vowels as Śiva-seed, consonants as Śakti-womb, mantra as the living union of the two. Now that union becomes endlessly differentiated.

Because this variety is ānanta, infinite, Mālinī becomes asaṃkhyena prakāreṇa aparigaṇana-bheda-bhāginī — possessed of uncountable differences in innumerable ways. This does not mean she is scattered into chaos. It means her womb is inexhaustibly fertile. Each kula, each ritual body, each lineage-current, each kula-puruṣa, each configuration of seed and womb, can reveal her differently.

This is important for understanding tantric plurality. Different Mālinī arrangements, different mantra-bodies, different kula-forms, and different ritual streams are not necessarily contradictions. They can be different womb-seed unfoldings of the same Goddess. Her unity is not the unity of poverty, where only one form is allowed. It is the unity of a womb capable of endless forms.

So Abhinava is again refusing both errors. He does not collapse all forms into vague sameness. Mālinī really has countless differentiated modes. But he also does not make those modes unrelated. Their difference arises from the infinite interpenetration of seed and womb within one Śākta field. The Goddess is one speech-body, but pregnant with uncountable ritual worlds.

Mālinī should be worshipped surrounded by infinite kula-bodies and kula-śaktis

yathoktam
anantaiḥ kuladehaistu kulaśaktibhireva ca |
mālinīṃ tu yajeddevīṃ parivāritavigrahām ||

“As it has been said:

‘One should worship the Goddess Mālinī, whose form is surrounded by infinite kula-bodies and by kula-śaktis.’”

Abhinava now gives scriptural support for Mālinī’s infinite differentiation. She is not worshipped as a solitary, narrow, fixed form. She is parivārita-vigrahā — her form is surrounded, encircled, accompanied. And what surrounds her? Ananta kula-dehas and kula-śaktis — infinite kula-bodies and kula-powers.

This is the ritual image of what the previous point explained metaphysically. Mālinī’s womb is differentiated because the interpenetration of seed and womb has no single limited pattern. Each kula has its own body. Each kula has its own Śakti. Each configuration of mantra, body, lineage, deity, and ritual current becomes one way Mālinī is surrounded, unfolded, and made worshippable.

The word kula is doing heavy work here. It does not mean merely “family” in the ordinary social sense. It means a living cluster of power: body, lineage, śakti, mantra, deity, transmission, and mode of practice. Mālinī is the Goddess whose alphabetic womb can generate and sustain countless such clusters. Her body is not one flat universal abstraction. It is a living matrix of innumerable Śākta embodiments.

So this verse makes the previous doctrine visible. Mālinī is one Goddess, but she is not poor in form. She is surrounded by infinite bodies and powers because the one Vāk can bear endless articulations. The Goddess’s unity is not isolation. It is the power to appear as countless kula-fields without losing herself.

This also helps explain why different ritual systems, lineages, and mantra-arrangements exist. They are not automatically contradictions. They may be different kula-dehas, different bodies of the same Mālinī, each with its own Śakti and function. The danger is only when one mistakes a single kula-form for the whole Goddess. Abhinava is showing a larger vision: Mālinī’s body is surrounded by infinite forms because her womb is inexhaustible.

Following this order, the practicing yogin obtains the corresponding siddhis in outer worlds, tattvas, and bodily cakras

ityanenaiva ca krameṇa bahirbhuvaneṣu tattveṣu śārīreṣu ca cakreṣu abhyāsaparo yogī tattatsiddhibhāk

“And by this very sequence, the yogin devoted to practice obtains the corresponding siddhis in the outer worlds, in the tattvas, and in the bodily cakras.”

Abhinava now turns Mālinī’s infinite differentiation into practical consequence. If Mālinī has countless forms according to innumerable kula-bodies and kula-śaktis, then practice also bears fruit according to the specific field in which it is performed. The yogin who is abhyāsa-para, devoted to sustained practice, obtains tattat-siddhi — the corresponding siddhi, the specific accomplishment appropriate to that specific domain.

This is important because it prevents a vague idea of “mantra gives power.” Abhinava is more precise. Practice operates in bahir-bhuvanas, outer worlds; in tattvas, principles of manifestation; and in śārīra-cakras, bodily cakras. Each field has its own structure, deity-current, letter-body, and result. A practice directed into one field does not automatically yield every possible fruit. It yields the siddhi proper to that field.

So Mālinī’s infinite fertility does not mean chaos. It means that the Goddess can open through countless precise channels. A bodily cakra, an outer world, a tattva, a mantra-arrangement, a kula-body — each is a distinct womb of Śakti. Practice enters one of these wombs, and the fruit corresponds to that placement.

This is the practical side of bhinnayoni. Her womb is differentiated, so the fruits are differentiated too. The sādhaka does not deal with an abstract universal energy that produces anything whatsoever by whim. The sādhaka enters a specific current. And the current gives the siddhi that belongs to its own nature.

This also protects the dignity of practice. The yogin is not merely believing in Mālinī’s infinite forms; he practices through them. Repetition, placement, visualization, mantra, nyāsa, homa, and inner absorption become ways of entering particular Śākta fields. Where the practice is placed, there the siddhi arises.

The siddhi manifests where the practice arises — in body or prāṇa

yatraiva dehe prāṇe vā bhavati yathā

“Wherever exactly it arises — in the body or in prāṇa — there, accordingly…”

Abhinava now begins to restrict the principle of siddhi even more concretely. The yogin obtains the corresponding siddhi in outer worlds, tattvas, and bodily cakras; but the fruit also depends on where the practice actually takes root — in the deha, the body, or in prāṇa, the vital current.

This is very practical. A practice is not defined only by its mantra-name or textual prescription. It is defined by the field in which it becomes alive. The same mantra may remain mostly bodily: connected with nyāsa, posture, organ, sensation, heat, heaviness, purification of limbs, bodily strength, or ritual embodiment. Or it may open primarily in prāṇa: breath, vibration, inner movement, nāda, subtle current, expansion, contraction, ascent, descent.

So siddhi is not distributed randomly. It follows the locus of emergence. If the practice awakens in the body, its fruit will be body-related or cakra-related. If it awakens in prāṇa, its fruit will follow the vital current. If it opens in a tattva, the siddhi belongs to that tattvic domain. The field of activation determines the type of fruit.

This also prevents the crude fantasy that one mantra mechanically gives all possible results to everyone in the same way. Abhinava is preparing the answer: just as different herbs produce different effects, different modes of practice produce different siddhis. Śakti is infinite, yes, but once she manifests through a particular channel, that channel has its own law, taste, and fruit.

So this point is small, but it marks the practical realism of the passage. Mantra is not abstract power floating above the sādhaka. It enters somewhere. It takes root somewhere. And the fruit comes according to that place of entry.

Objection: if everything is freely Śakti, why does not everything give every siddhi?

[nanu ca yadyevaṃ tarhi svecchātantratvāt sarvameva sarvasiddhipradaṃ bhavediti kiṃ niyamo nibaddha ityata āha yathetyādi |]

“The gloss raises the objection: ‘But if this is so, then because everything is governed by free will, everything should give every siddhi. Why is any rule fixed?’ Therefore the text says ‘just as…’ and so on.”

The gloss now raises the necessary objection. If Mālinī is infinitely differentiated, if seed and womb interpenetrate in countless ways, if all is Śakti and everything is rooted in svecchā-tantratva, the autonomy of free will, then why should there be any restriction at all? Why should one practice give one siddhi and another practice another? Why should body, prāṇa, tattva, cakra, mantra, nyāsa, or homa have specific fruits? Should not everything give everything?

This is a very important objection because it exposes the danger of a shallow understanding of Śākta freedom. One may hear “all is Śakti” and turn it into magical vagueness: any mantra can do anything; any practice can give any result; all forms are interchangeable because everything is divine. Abhinava does not allow that. Freedom does not mean functional chaos.

The question kiṃ niyamo nibaddhaḥ — why is any rule fixed? — forces the issue. If the Goddess is free, why does niyati still appear? Why do particular causes lead to particular effects? Why does a certain practice ripen in the body, another in prāṇa, another in a tattva, another in a cakra? Why are there distinct mantras, distinct lineages, distinct fruits?

Abhinava’s answer will be practical and sober. Even within freedom, as long as one operates in the manifested field, niyati has force. Specific configurations of Śakti produce specific results, just as particular herbs produce particular effects. Infinite freedom expresses itself through definite channels. The fact that Śakti is limitless does not mean every limited form performs every function.

So this objection prepares the next movement. Mālinī’s womb is infinite, but each womb-seed configuration has its own law. The Goddess is free, but once She manifests as a specific mantra, body, practice, herb, organ, or current, that form carries a specific potency. Freedom is the source; precision is the mode of operation.

Particular herbs produce only particular effects

kāścidevauṣadhyaḥ samudbhūya kiṃcideva kāryaṃ vidadhate

“Just as particular herbs, when they arise, perform only a particular function.”

Abhinava now gives the practical analogy that answers the objection. If everything is Śakti, why does everything not give every siddhi? Because manifestation does not operate as vague omnipotence at the functional level. Particular forms carry particular powers. Particular herbs produce particular effects.

This is a simple example, but it cuts very cleanly. One herb cools, another heats, another purges, another nourishes, another intoxicates, another heals a specific condition. The whole earth is one field of Śakti, but not every plant does the same work. Freedom has become specificity. Power has entered form.

This is exactly how mantra and practice function. A mantra is not “anything whatsoever” just because all mantras are Śakti. Once Śakti has taken a specific form, that form has a specific potency, direction, and fruit. A mantra, nyāsa, homa, bhāvanā, or cakra-practice works like a medicinal plant: it has a nature, a field, a function, a result.

So Abhinava is protecting practice from magical vagueness. Śakti’s freedom is infinite at the source, but in manifested operation She appears as definite powers. This does not limit Her in the ultimate sense. It makes practice possible. If everything gave everything, no śāstra, no mantra, no ritual distinction, no initiation, no lineage, no method would matter. But because power manifests through precise channels, practice can be exact.

The analogy is also humbling. One does not demand that a herb produce the effect of another herb. One learns its nature and uses it properly. Likewise, the sādhaka must learn where a mantra operates, what field it opens, what siddhi it gives, and what kind of Śakti-current it carries. Freedom does not cancel specificity. Freedom becomes medicinal precision.

Particular practices produce particular siddhis

tathā kācideva samudbhūya bhāvanā mantranyāsahomādigatirvā kāṃcideva siddhiṃ vitaret

“Likewise, when a particular bhāvanā, mantra, nyāsa, homa, or ritual procedure arises, it grants only a particular siddhi.”

Abhinava now applies the herb analogy directly to practice. Just as a particular herb produces a particular effect, a particular bhāvanā, mantra, nyāsa, homa, or ritual procedure gives a particular siddhi. Practice is not vague power. It has a channel, a form, a field, and therefore a specific fruit.

This is very practical. A mantra does not become omnipotent in the hands of the practitioner simply because all mantra is Śakti. Once Śakti manifests as a particular practice, that practice has a certain nature. A bhāvanā may open one inner field. A nyāsa may awaken a particular body-current. A homa may activate another mode of offering and transformation. A mantra may belong to a specific deity, tattva, śakti, protection-current, attraction-current, liberation-current, or internal fire. Each gives according to its own configuration.

This also protects sādhana from fantasy. One cannot simply demand that any practice produce any result. The sādhaka must understand the current he is entering. A practice aimed at protection may not give worldly prosperity. A mantra that burns saṃskāras may not make life externally smoother. A liberation-oriented current may refuse to behave like a transactional wish-fulfilling device. That does not mean the mantra has failed. It may mean it is working according to its own śakti, not according to the surface demand of the ego.

So Abhinava’s point is sober: Śakti is infinite, but concrete practice is precise. Freedom expresses itself through specific forms, and those forms have specific fruits. The path is not mechanical, but it is also not shapeless. Mantra, bhāvanā, nyāsa, and homa are not interchangeable tools. They are living channels of power, each with its own siddhi.

Even here, this is because the operation of niyati has not been fully surpassed

atrāpi yāvanniyativyāpārānatikramāt

“Even here, this is because, so long as the operation of niyati has not been surpassed…”

Abhinava now gives the reason why particular practices yield particular siddhis. The answer is niyati — the limiting order, the principle by which specific relations, causes, capacities, and results are fixed within manifestation.

This is the sober correction to magical vagueness. Yes, everything is Śakti. Yes, the Goddess is free. Yes, Mālinī’s womb is infinitely differentiated. But as long as one operates within the field where niyati-vyāpāra, the operation of determinate order, has not been crossed, power moves through specific channels. This mantra gives this fruit. This nyāsa opens this field. This homa produces this effect. This bhāvanā awakens this siddhi.

So niyati is not a denial of Śakti. It is Śakti functioning as rule, specificity, and bounded relation. Infinite freedom, once it enters manifestation, does not appear as shapeless omnipotence in every form. It appears as precise potency. Fire burns. Water cools. One herb heals one condition; another acts differently. Likewise, one mantra-current opens one reality, another opens another.

This is also practically important for sādhakas. A person may want to use mantra transactionally, as if every mantra should produce every desired result. But if the mantra is operating through a different channel — body, prāṇa, purification, root-strength, liberation, inner burning — the expected external fruit may not appear. That is not necessarily failure. It may be niyati determining the actual mode in which Śakti is functioning.

So this line keeps the whole doctrine grounded. Freedom is ultimate, but until the practitioner has truly crossed the field of niyati, practice is not arbitrary. Forms matter. Placement matters. Mantra matters. Adhikāra matters. The channel through which Śakti manifests determines the fruit.

Each śāstra gives its own letter-arrangement according to its own knowledge and presiding letter-deities

tathāhi pratiśāstramanyathā cānyathā ca varṇaniveśapuraḥsaraṃ nijanijavijñānasamucitatattadvarṇabhaṭṭārakaprādhānyena

“For in each śāstra, in different ways and still other different ways, an arrangement beginning with the placement of letters is taught according to its own specific knowledge and according to the predominance of the respective presiding letter-deities.”

Abhinava now explains how this principle of niyati appears in the śāstric world itself. Different tantras arrange letters differently. One gives one sequence, another gives another; one places a certain letter first, another gives priority elsewhere; one ritual current extracts mantras from one arrangement, another from another. This is not automatically contradiction. It reflects the specific vijñāna, the specific knowledge-current, of each śāstra.

The key is tattad-varṇa-bhaṭṭāraka-prādhānya — the predominance of particular presiding deities of letters. A letter is not merely a sound-unit. It is a seat of power, a varṇa-bhaṭṭāraka, a lordly letter-principle. If one śāstra gives priority to one set of letters, and another śāstra gives priority to another, the difference comes from the deity-current and knowledge-structure active in that śāstra.

This continues the practical realism of the previous point. Just as particular herbs produce particular effects, and particular mantras, nyāsas, homas, or bhāvanās give particular siddhis, so particular śāstras arrange letters according to their own operative Śakti. Infinite freedom does not mean every arrangement is functionally identical. Each revealed system has its own order, deity-priority, and fruit.

So Abhinava is not saying, “all tantric maps are randomly valid.” He is saying something much more exact: each map belongs to a specific current of knowledge and power. To understand it, one must know its standpoint, its presiding letter-deities, its śāstric intention, and its field of operation. Otherwise, the plurality of tantras looks like chaos.

This is the same issue that began many chunks ago: different āgamas give different mappings. Abhinava’s answer has been slowly building: difference is not arbitrary when it arises from a specific level of consciousness, reflection, niyati, and Śakti-function. Here that answer becomes practical for letter-arrangements. Each śāstra has its own mantraic ecology.

Each prastāra is a grouped letter-arrangement ordered by the priority of its presiding letters

tattadvarṇaprāthamyānusārāyātaniyataparipāṭīpiṇḍitavarṇasamūharūpaḥ prastāro nirūpitaḥ

“According to the priority of those respective letters, a prastāra is taught — a grouped mass of letters arranged in a fixed sequence.”

Abhinava now explains how a śāstra’s particular letter-arrangement becomes structured. Each system has its own presiding letters, its own varṇa-bhaṭṭārakas, and according to their prāthamya, their priority or primacy, a definite prastāra is laid out.

A prastāra is not merely a list. It is an expanded arrangement, a structured unfolding of letters. The letters are gathered into a piṇḍita-varṇa-samūha, a compacted or grouped mass, but not randomly. They are ordered according to the śāstra’s own inner hierarchy of letter-powers.

This is important because it explains why different tantras may give different arrangements without falling into arbitrariness. If one śāstra gives priority to one letter-deity, and another gives priority to another, their prastāras will differ. The order changes because the presiding power changes. The sequence reflects the current.

So the question is not “which list is externally correct?” The better question is: from which śāstric current, which deity-priority, which mantraic function, and which field of practice does this arrangement arise? Then the difference becomes intelligible.

This continues Abhinava’s very sober view of tantric plurality. Infinite Śakti does not mean disorder. Each current has its own grammar of power. Each prastāra is the body of that current arranged through letters. The variation is real, but it is not empty variation. It is the ordered expression of a particular Śākta intelligence.

From the prastāra, mantras are extracted

tata eva ca mantroddhāro nirūpitaḥ

“And from that very prastāra, the extraction of mantras is taught.”

Abhinava now gives the next step: once a śāstra has established its prastāra, its ordered expansion or arrangement of letters, mantras are extracted from that very arrangement. Mantroddhāra means the drawing out, extraction, or derivation of mantras from the letter-body.

This is important because mantras are not being treated as isolated sound-units floating in space. They arise from a structured field of letters. Each śāstra gives a particular prastāra according to its own knowledge-current and the priority of its presiding letter-deities; from that field, the mantra is drawn out. The mantra carries the logic of the prastāra from which it arises.

So again, Abhinava is defending specificity. A mantra belongs to a particular arrangement, a particular Śākta ecology, a particular hierarchy of letters, a particular deity-current. If you rip the mantra out of that field and treat it as a generic “power syllable,” you lose the structure that gives it its exact function.

This also explains why different tantras may extract different mantras from different arrangements. The difference is not necessarily contradiction. It follows from the prastāra, and the prastāra follows from the śāstra’s own vision and presiding powers. A mantra is therefore both sound and lineage-structure, both letter and field, both utterance and extracted concentration of a whole revealed order.

Mātṛkā gives mantra-flashing by bestowing specific vīrya

tāmeva mātṛkārūpāṃ tathāvidhavīryadānopabṛṃhitamantrasphurattādāyinīṃ darśayituṃ

“To show that very one in the form of Mātṛkā, who grants the flashing forth of mantra, strengthened by the bestowal of that specific vīrya…”

Abhinava now explains what these different letter-arrangements and mantra-extractions are meant to reveal. They show Mātṛkā herself — the Mother of letters — as the one who gives mantra-sphurattā, the flashing, living emergence of mantra.

This is important. A mantra does not become alive merely because its syllables are technically correct. The letters may be present, the recitation may be accurate, the ritual may be performed, and yet the mantra may remain flat if its vīrya, its potency, has not been awakened. Abhinava is pointing to that deeper force: the mantra flashes forth when Mātṛkā grants the specific vīrya appropriate to that arrangement.

So each śāstra, each prastāra, each mantra-extraction is not simply a formal code. It is a channel for a specific potency. The presiding letter-deities, the order of letters, the mantra drawn from that order — all of this becomes meaningful because Mātṛkā empowers it from within. She is not just the alphabet as a neutral system. She is the living Mother-power by which letters become mantra.

The phrase tathāvidha-vīrya-dāna-upabṛṃhita matters. The mantra is strengthened, nourished, made full by the bestowal of that particular vīrya. Not every mantra carries the same potency in the same way. Not every arrangement opens the same current. The vīrya is specific, and that specificity is what allows a mantra to flash as a living force rather than remain a sequence of sounds.

So this point continues the practical realism of the chunk. Śakti is infinite, but mantra works through precise channels. Mātṛkā gives the living spark to those channels. Without her vīrya, letters are merely letters; with it, they become mantra-body, capable of siddhi, transformation, and recognition.

Śrīnityā tantras: the ekāra-based mohana seed depends on Paranāda installation

yathā śrīnityātantreṣu ekārātmakamohanabījaprādhānyahetuparanādātmaniveśaprādhānyāt

“For example, in the Śrīnityā tantras, the prominence of the mohana seed whose nature is e arises because of the prominence of its installation in Paranāda.”

Abhinava now gives a concrete example of how a specific śāstra gives priority to a specific letter-current. In the Śrīnityā tantras, the mohana-bīja, the seed connected with enchantment or attraction, is ekāra-ātmaka — its nature is the vowel e. This is not arbitrary. Its prominence comes from the prominence of its installation in Paranāda.

This continues the previous logic exactly. Each śāstra arranges letters according to its own knowledge-current and the priority of its presiding letter-deities. From that arrangement, mantras are extracted. Mātṛkā gives those mantras their flashing power through the bestowal of a particular vīrya. Here, the e-seed becomes prominent because the Śrīnityā current installs it in the Paranāda field.

So the same question returns: why does one mantra or letter become powerful in one system and not another? Because each śāstra has its own arrangement of emphasis. A letter becomes charged when it is placed in the right field, under the right deity-current, with the right vīrya. The letter e here is not just a vowel. It becomes a mohana seed because of its specific installation in a specific revealed order.

This is also why mantra cannot be understood by sound alone. A seed-syllable’s power depends on its placement, lineage-current, śāstric context, and the level of speech-consciousness in which it is activated. The same phonetic material may have different force in different systems because its niveśa, its installation, differs.

So Abhinava is again defending specificity without falling into contradiction. Śakti is infinite, but each śāstra reveals a particular way Her letter-body becomes operative. In Śrīnityā, the e-seed shines with mohana-power because Paranāda gives it that role. The mantra’s potency is not invented by human preference; it arises from the precise field in which Mātṛkā installs and empowers it.

The alternate reading is accepted only according to the highest meaning, not the immediate context

[hetuparanādātmetyapi pāṭhaḥ sadbhiḥ svīkṛtaḥ uttamārthābhiprāyeṇa na tu prastāvāpekṣayeti |]

“The reading hetu-paranāda-ātma is also accepted by the learned, but with reference to the highest meaning, not with reference to the immediate context.”

The gloss now clarifies a variant reading. Some accept hetu-paranāda-ātma as the reading, but only if it is understood according to the uttamārtha, the highest meaning. It should not be forced into the immediate context if that context is explaining a more specific mantraic arrangement.

This small note matters because it shows Abhinava’s precision with textual variation. A reading may be valid at one level and unsuitable at another. The problem is not simply “correct” or “incorrect” in a flat way. The question is: from which standpoint does this reading make sense? Does it serve the immediate ritual explanation, or does it belong to a higher doctrinal interpretation?

Here the immediate context is about specific śāstric arrangements, letter-priorities, prastāras, mantra-extractions, and the prominence of the ekāra-based mohana seed in the Śrīnityā tantras. So a reading that points toward the highest meaning may be acceptable in itself, but not necessarily as the best reading for this immediate explanatory flow.

This continues the same discipline we have seen throughout the text. Abhinava does not flatten levels. A mantra may have one meaning in a ritual context, another in a higher metaphysical context. A letter may function one way in Mālinī, another in Mātṛkā, another in Parā, another in Paśyantī. A variant reading too must be placed correctly.

So the gloss is not pedantic. It protects the text from misplaced profundity. Even a “higher” interpretation can become wrong if inserted into the wrong level of the argument. Precision means not only seeing the highest meaning, but knowing when that meaning is contextually appropriate.