AbhinavaguptaPara-trīśikā-vivaraṇa

Parātrīṃśikā Vivaraṇa (Part 168): Bindu, Visarga, and the Body of Bhairava

A vast cosmic Śiva-form sits across the landscape, with spiral galaxies turning in the chest and above the head, while sun, moon, sky, mountains, and clouds unfold within the same body. The image beautifully evokes visarga: the Heart condensed as bindu and then emitted outward as the whole field of manifestation. It fits this chunk because Abhinava describes the entire tattva-net rising as Bhairava, expanding outward without falling into separation, and attaining the all-in-all state where everything is everything through Bhairava-nature.


The previous chunk ended with icchā entering the great sky of Bhairava: the will-power, no longer running toward objects, passing beyond the field of the knowable into the immovable mahāvyoma, where even the sound of drums and bronze gongs cannot call the yogin back. That passage showed the inward pole of icchā — its capacity to withdraw the whole object-field into the full void of Bhairava.

Now Abhinava turns to the opposite movement: not withdrawal into the sky-ground, but the interpenetration and outward emission of the Śaktis. The center of this chunk is the mutual coloring of the powers — paraspara-rūpa-sāṃkarya-vaicitryaṃ śaktīnām — the strange and living way in which icchā, jñāna, kriyā, ānanda, kāma, vāk, bindu, and visarga enter one another. This is not a neat scholastic chart. It is the living complexity of Śakti.

The movement begins when icchā enters Anuttara. At that point, after the stirring of Śakti, Abhinava speaks of the rhythms of consciousness — slow, medium, and rapid spandas — gathered into a fourth state, a general spanda behind the particular movements. This Akula, joined with Anuttara, is again the third Brahman as icchā, accompanied by lordship and endowed with ānanda-śakti.

Then the same principle re-enters the supreme reality and becomes Bhairava-natured, complete and expanded. From there Abhinava turns to the bīja-pair: the seed-powers, by entering many forms of seed-variety, become capable of concealment and birth. This is explained through the logic of kāma and vāk — desire and speech — not as ordinary craving and ordinary language, but as creative Śakti-functions by which manifestation is covered, born, articulated, and voiced.

The passage then decodes the fifth and sixth letters, the bīja in e and o, and shows that the same third Brahman, joined with the fourteen and endowed with the end of the tithīśa, has entered the Anuttara-state as Bhairava. It becomes the bindu-like Heart, the concentrated point of Bhairava-awareness from which the whole tattva-net rises.

The chunk culminates in visarga. The whole net of tattvas surges as Bhairava, is emitted outward, and becomes expanded Brahman. But this expansion is not a fall into poverty. On the contrary, separative delimitation — the poverty of being “only this and not that” — is removed. What emerges is sarva-sarvātmakatā, the all-in-all state, where everything is everything through Bhairava-nature.

So this chunk moves from Anuttara-entry to Bhairava-emission: icchā enters Anuttara, Śakti trembles as spanda, bīja becomes capable of concealment and birth, vāk gives articulation, bindu gathers the Heart, and visarga emits the whole tattva-net as Bhairava’s expanded fullness.



Abhinava now explains the mutual intermingling of the Śaktis


adhunoktavyāpti yadetatparaspararūpasāṃkaryavaicitryaṃ śaktīnāṃ taduddeśena


“Now, with regard to the pervasion just stated, he turns to explain this variegated intermingling of the Śaktis, in which they take on one another’s forms.”


Abhinava now gives the key to the next movement: the Śaktis do not function as sealed, separate departments. Icchā, jñāna, kriyā, ānanda, vāk, kāma, bindu, visarga — these powers interpenetrate. They color one another. They assume one another’s form. Their operation is not mechanical, but living.

This is what paraspara-rūpa-sāṃkarya-vaicitrya means: a variegated mutual blending of forms. One power enters another without losing itself. Will can be filled with knowledge. Knowledge can open toward action. Action can carry bliss. Speech can become seed. Seed can become concealment and birth. Visarga can become outward emission and still remain Bhairava-natured.

So Abhinava is warning the reader: do not read this like a school diagram. The Śaktis are distinguishable, but not isolated. If one treats them as fixed boxes, the living current is lost. The doctrine becomes clean and dead.

This also explains why the text has become so dense. Abhinava is not being obscure for sport. He is trying to describe a reality where the powers are simultaneously distinct and mutually pervading. A flat intellectual map cannot hold this. The Heart is more like a flame: one can distinguish heat, light, movement, color, and burning, but in the actual flame they are inseparable.

That is the spirit of this chunk. The previous section showed icchā entering the great sky of Bhairava, the inward withdrawal beyond the knowable. Now the movement turns outward again: icchā enters Anuttara, Śakti trembles, bīja becomes variegated, kāma and vāk begin to operate, bindu condenses the Heart, and visarga emits the whole tattva-net as Bhairava.

So this first point sets the method. Abhinava is not explaining a linear sequence only. He is showing the living interpenetration of Śakti’s powers — the way the Heart becomes many without ceasing to be one.


When icchā enters Anuttara, the fourth state appears as the general spanda behind the varied rhythms of consciousness


evamicchā yadānuttarapadapraveśaśālinī bhavati tadā śaktikṣobhasya rasanāderanantaraṃ tatrocyate - vilambitamadhyadrutānāṃ cidviśeṣaspandānāṃ sattvādiyogajuṣāṃ catuḥśabdopalakṣitā caturthī daśā yatrāsti sāmānyaspandarūpā


“Thus, when icchā becomes endowed with entry into the state of Anuttara, then, after the stirring of Śakti beginning with rasanā and the rest, there is spoken of a fourth state, indicated by the word ‘four,’ in which the particular spandas of consciousness — slow, medium, and rapid, associated with sattva and the other guṇas — exist in the form of a general spanda.”


Abhinava now describes what happens when icchā does not merely move outward toward manifestation, and does not merely withdraw into the great sky, but enters Anuttara. This is a different voltage. Will is no longer ordinary directed movement; it is will saturated by the unsurpassed.

When icchā enters Anuttara-pada, the state of the unsurpassed, the powers begin to stir — śakti-kṣobha. This word must be felt. Kṣobha is not chaos. It is the sacred tremor of Śakti, the first disturbance of still fullness, the vibration by which the Heart becomes alive as manifestation. It is not a fall from purity. It is the pulse of the living Absolute.

Then Abhinava speaks of the different rhythms of consciousness: vilambita, slow; madhya, middle; druta, rapid. Consciousness does not manifest in one flat tempo. It pulses differently. Some movements are dense and slow, some balanced, some quick and sharp. These are cid-viśeṣa-spandāḥ — particular vibrations of consciousness.

He also connects them with sattva and the other guṇas, meaning that as consciousness begins to move toward the differentiated field, its spanda becomes colored by the qualities that later structure experience. The rhythm of consciousness becomes the basis for different textures of manifestation: clarity, movement, inertia; luminosity, restlessness, heaviness.

But then comes the key: behind these particular spandas there is a caturthī daśā, a fourth state, whose nature is sāmānya-spanda, general spanda.

This “fourth” is not merely one more item added after three. It is the deeper pulse behind all differentiated rhythms. Slow, medium, and rapid are the varied movements; the fourth is the common vibration that holds them. The particular spandas are many; the general spanda is their shared Heart.

So Abhinava is showing how multiplicity begins without losing unity. Icchā enters Anuttara; Śakti trembles; consciousness develops varied rhythms; but beneath all of them there remains one general spanda. The many pulses are not separate from the one pulse.

This matters practically. In ordinary life, experience feels fragmented because we are thrown between different tempos: excitement, fatigue, clarity, dullness, desire, fear, action, withdrawal. The mind thinks these are separate states pulling us apart. Abhinava points deeper: beneath the varied rhythms is one sāmānya-spanda, one general pulse of consciousness.

The practice is not to flatten all rhythms into dead sameness. It is to recognize the one vibration inside them.

When the mind is fast, the same spanda is there.
When the body is heavy, the same spanda is there.
When perception is clear, the same spanda is there.
When desire stirs, the same spanda is there.
When silence opens, the same spanda is there.

That is why this point is important. The entry of icchā into Anuttara does not produce a lifeless void. It produces the possibility of all rhythms while keeping them rooted in one Heart-pulse. The fourth state is the secret general vibration in which the many modes of consciousness arise, differ, and yet remain one current.


This Akula, joined with Anuttara, is the third Brahman as icchā, united with Īśana and endowed with ānanda-śakti


tadakulaṃ tenākulena anuttareṇa yutaṃ tṛtīyaṃ brahmecchātma īśanasahitaṃ tithīśasyākārasyāntenānandaśaktyātmanā anvitam |


“That is Akula. Joined with that Akula, with Anuttara, the third Brahman is will-natured, icchātma, united with Īśana, and endowed with the end of the tithīśa — the letter a — whose nature is ānanda-śakti.”


Abhinava now gathers the previous movement into one dense formula. The fourth state, the general spanda behind the varied rhythms of consciousness, is called Akula. This matters. Kula is the gathered field of manifestation, powers, letters, body, ritual, and Śakti’s articulated fullness. Akula is the uncontained, unsurpassed ground that is not yet dispersed into the Kula-field.

But this Akula is not separate from Anuttara. Abhinava says it is joined with anuttara — the unsurpassed. So the third Brahman is not merely another level inside manifestation. It is icchātma, will-natured, but joined with Akula-Anuttara. Its will is rooted in the uncontained Supreme.

This is another protection against misunderstanding icchā. Divine will is not movement away from the Absolute. It is the Absolute’s own inward power of self-expression. Because it is joined with Akula, icchā is not dragged into fragmentation. Because it is joined with Anuttara, it does not fall below the unsurpassed. It remains rooted while it begins to move.

Then Abhinava says it is īśana-sahita — accompanied by lordship. Again, will here is sovereign. It is not helpless wanting. It is not the psychology of lack. It is icchā with Īśana, will with lordship, the power that can manifest because it is not dependent on what it manifests.

Finally, it is endowed with the end of the tithīśa, the a-kāra, whose nature is ānanda-śakti. This is subtle but beautiful. The letter a is the primal opening of sound, the first vowel, the seed of expression. Its nature here is bliss-power. So the will-natured third Brahman is rooted in Anuttara, accompanied by lordship, and endowed with the primal bliss-vibration of a.

The structure is exact:

Akula gives uncontained transcendence.
Anuttara gives unsurpassed ground.
Icchā gives the first will to unfold.
Īśana gives lordship.
A-kāra as ānanda-śakti gives bliss as the root of expression.

So this point shows that manifestation begins from neither lack nor accident. It begins from Akula-Anuttara, stirred as blissful will, sovereign in its own nature. The Heart remains uncontained even as it prepares to become Kula.


When it again enters the supreme reality, it becomes Bhairava-natured, complete, and expanded


tadapi tathaiva punarapi parāṃ sattāmanupraviśati yadā tadā bhairavātma paripūrṇaṃ dīrghībhūtaṃ naḥ - asmākamiti pūrvavat


“And when this too, in the same way, again enters the supreme reality, then it becomes Bhairava-natured, completely full, and expanded — ‘ours,’ that is, belonging to us, as explained before.”


Abhinava now shows the return-current. The will-natured third Brahman, joined with Akula-Anuttara, accompanied by Īśana, and endowed with ānanda-śakti, does not remain merely at the threshold of manifestation. It again enters parā sattā — the supreme reality.

And when it enters that supreme reality, it becomes bhairavātma — Bhairava-natured. This is not a fading into abstraction. It does not become a pale metaphysical principle. It becomes Bhairava: fierce, total, full, all-containing.

Then Abhinava says it becomes paripūrṇa — completely full. Nothing is lost in this return. The power does not dissolve into poverty. It becomes more fully itself. The supreme is not a blank where Śakti is erased; it is the depth where Śakti is restored to her Bhairava-nature.

It also becomes dīrghībhūta — expanded, extended, lengthened. The current stretches out from the compact Heart. What was gathered in seed-form becomes capable of expression. The Heart enters itself and comes forth widened.

And then comes the small but important word: naḥ — “ours.” Abhinava glosses it as asmākam, “belonging to us,” as before. This does not mean egoic ownership. It does not mean “our doctrine,” “our possession,” “our superior secret.” It means intimacy.

This Bhairava-Heart is not somewhere else. It is not merely an object of worship, a concept in śāstra, or a cosmic structure described from outside. It is ours because it is the innermost reality of our own consciousness.

That is the personal force of the line. The Heart enters the supreme, becomes Bhairava-natured, full, expanded — and this is not happening in some remote divine theatre. It concerns our own Heart. Our own awareness. Our own hidden Bhairava-nature.

So the movement is deeply intimate:

the power returns to the supreme;
the supreme reveals itself as Bhairava;
Bhairava is complete and expanded;
and this fullness is not alien to us.

It is ours — not as property, but as Self.


The bīja-pair becomes capable of concealment and birth


ata evaitadeva bījayugmam evaṃvidhabījavaicitryānupraveśāt ācchādaprasavasamartham - iti kāmavāktattvopayogenocyate


“Therefore, this very pair of bījas, by entering such variegated forms of seed, becomes capable of concealment and birth. This is stated through the application of the principles of kāma and vāk.”


Abhinava now turns from the expanded Bhairava-natured Heart toward the mystery of bīja, seed. The current that entered the supreme reality and became full, Bhairava-natured, and “ours” now appears as a bīja-yugma, a pair of seed-powers.

This is not small. A seed is not merely a tiny beginning. In Tantra, bīja is compressed totality. It is the whole tree hidden in one point. It is sound before expansion, power before articulation, world before world. So when Abhinava speaks of the bīja-pair entering many varieties of seed-form — bīja-vaicitrya — he is speaking of the way the one Heart becomes capable of multiple manifestations without losing its root-density.

Then comes the striking phrase: ācchāda-prasava-samartham — capable of concealment and birth.

This is the double power of Śakti. She gives birth, and she covers. She manifests, and she veils. She brings forth the world, and in that very bringing forth, she allows consciousness to become hidden from itself. The same seed-power that produces manifestation also makes misrecognition possible.

This is not a moral failure. It is the structure of manifestation. If the world is to appear with real texture, differentiation, relation, language, body, and experience, there must be a power of ācchāda, covering. Otherwise everything would remain undifferentiated luminosity. But if covering becomes unrecognized, it becomes bondage. If covering is recognized as Śakti, it becomes play.

And prasava, birth, is the other side. The seed does not merely conceal; it gives rise. It becomes world, word, body, object, thought, mantra, relation, desire, and experience. The Heart does not stay sealed in its own inward fullness. It births.

So the bīja-pair is terrifyingly powerful: it can hide Bhairava, and it can give birth to Bhairava’s expression. It can become saṃsāra, and it can become mantra. It can bind, and it can reveal.

Abhinava says this is explained through kāma and vāk. That is exact. Kāma is not merely personal desire here; it is the creative urge, the erotic-willing power by which manifestation is desired into form. Vāk is not merely ordinary speech; it is the power of articulation, the way the seed becomes expressed, named, differentiated, voiced.

So concealment and birth happen through desire and speech: the will to manifest and the power to articulate manifestation.

This also gives the practical knife. Our own life works the same way. A word can conceal or reveal. Desire can bind or birth something true. A thought can cover the Heart, or become a seed of recognition. The same inner power that creates identity can create liberation if returned to its source.

So Abhinava is not speaking abstractly. He is showing the seed-mechanism of existence: the Heart condenses into bīja; bīja enters variety; variety becomes capable of covering and birth; kāma moves it; vāk articulates it.

The world is born there. Bondage is born there. Mantra is born there. Recognition can also be born there.


Kāma and Vāk: desire-power and speech-power articulate the seed


kāmena kāmayetkāmānkāmaṃ kāmeṣu yojayet |

e-okāragataṃ bījaṃ vāgvidhānāya kevalam |


“By kāma one should desire the desired things; one should join kāma to the desired things.”

“And the bīja situated in e and o is solely for the ordering of speech.”


Abhinava now brings in the principles of kāma and vāk to explain how the bīja-pair becomes capable of concealment and birth. This is not a sudden descent into ordinary desire and ordinary language. Kāma and vāk here are Śakti-functions: the power that inclines toward manifestation, and the power that articulates manifestation.

The line kāmena kāmayet kāmān sounds almost dangerous if read flatly: “by desire, desire the desired things.” But in this context, it is not a license for grasping. It means that manifestation is moved by desire-power itself. Kāma is the force by which the seed turns toward expression. The desired things are not random external objects; they are possible forms latent inside the seed. Kāma joins itself to them and makes birth possible.

This continues the earlier doctrine of icchā. At the highest level, desire does not arise from lack. It is fullness moving toward self-display. Here that same movement is shown in bīja-language: kāma activates the seed, joins itself to the forms to be born, and gives the current direction.

Then comes vāk. The bīja in e and o is for vāg-vidhāna, the ordering, arrangement, or formation of speech. This is crucial. The seed does not merely give birth silently. It becomes articulated. It becomes word, mantra, structure, differentiation. Vāk is how hidden potency becomes expressible form.

So kāma and vāk work together. Kāma stirs the seed toward manifestation. Vāk gives that manifestation articulation. Desire-power moves; speech-power shapes. Without kāma, the seed remains unactivated. Without vāk, the movement remains unformed.

This is also where concealment and birth meet. Once the seed becomes speech, reality becomes nameable, differentiated, structured. That allows manifestation to appear clearly — but it also allows concealment. The word can reveal the Heart, or hide it. The same speech that becomes mantra can become bondage. The same articulation that gives the world can make consciousness forget itself in names.

So this point is very practical. We live inside kāma and vāk constantly. Desire and speech are not marginal powers. They shape our world every day.

Desire decides what becomes important.
Speech gives it form.
Desire pulls attention.
Speech builds identity.
Desire says, “this matters.”
Speech says, “this is what it is.”

If desire is contracted, speech becomes prison. If desire is rooted in the Heart, speech becomes mantra.

That is the knife-edge. Kāma and vāk are not to be despised. They are too fundamental. But they must be returned to their source. Desire must become icchā rather than lack. Speech must become vāk rather than noise. Then the bīja does not merely cover and bind; it gives birth to recognition.


The fifth and sixth letters reveal the third Brahman as the bindu-like Heart of Bhairava


ityādi pañcamaṣaṣṭhavarṇadvayena yaduktaṃ caturdaśayutaṃ tṛtīyaṃ brahma tithīśāntasamanvitaṃ tadeva bhairavātmānuttarapadānupraviṣṭam etat brahma catvāriṃśadyutamuktanītyā tithīśāntasamanvitaṃ bhairavātmavedanarūpatayā bindvātmakaṃ hṛdayam


“Thus, through the pair of the fifth and sixth letters, what was stated — the third Brahman, joined with the fourteen and endowed with the end of the tithīśa — is that very Brahman which has entered the state of Anuttara as Bhairava-natured. This Brahman, joined with the forty according to the method already explained and endowed with the end of the tithīśa, is the Heart, bindu in nature, because its form is the awareness of Bhairava-nature.”


Abhinava now gathers the previous bīja-analysis into the Heart. The fifth and sixth letters are not merely phonetic markers. They are the doorway through which the third Brahman is understood as entering Anuttara and becoming bhairavātma — Bhairava-natured.

This is the key movement: the same third Brahman that was described as joined with the fourteen, endowed with the tithīśa’s end, read through icchā, kāma, vāk, bīja, and Śakti-kṣobha — all of this now resolves into the bindv-ātmaka hṛdaya, the Heart whose nature is bindu.

Bindu here is not just a dot. It is the point of total condensation. The whole expanse is gathered into one seed-point. All letters, tattvas, powers, rhythms, births, concealments, and emissions are held in concentrated form. Bindu is the Heart before it spreads, the universe held as a single pulse.

And why is this Heart bindu-like? Because it is bhairavātma-vedana-rūpa — its form is the awareness of Bhairava-nature. That phrase is decisive. The Heart is not merely a subtle center, not merely a mantraic point, not merely a diagrammatic bindu. It is the living awareness: “all this is Bhairava.”

When that recognition is absent, the tattva-net appears as multiplicity, bondage, and fragmentation. When bhairavātma-vedana arises, the same net is gathered into bindu. The many is not destroyed; it is known in its Heart-point.

So this is a transition from articulation back into concentration. Kāma stirred the seed. Vāk articulated it. The bīja entered variety and became capable of concealment and birth. But now Abhinava shows that all this does not remain dispersed. It enters Anuttara and becomes the bindu-Heart of Bhairava-awareness.

This also prevents a common mistake. One can become fascinated with letters, bījas, phonetic structures, and secret correspondences, but miss the Heart. Abhinava’s point is not alphabetic cleverness. The letters matter because they lead to bhairavātma-vedana. Without that awareness, the technical structure remains external. With it, the whole structure collapses into the bindu of recognition.

So the movement is exact:

the third Brahman is joined with the fourteen;
it is endowed with the end of the tithīśa;
it enters Anuttara;
it is joined with the forty;
it becomes Bhairava-natured;
and as Bhairava-awareness, it is the bindu-like Heart.

The Heart is therefore the place where all complexity becomes one point, and that one point is not blank. It is charged with the awareness of Bhairava.


Visarga is the outward emission where the whole tattva-net rises as Bhairava and loses the poverty of separation


sakalamidaṃ tattvajālaṃ bhairavātmatayocchalat ata eva bahirvisṛjyamānaṃ vṛṃhitaṃ brahma visargātmakaṃ bahiḥsthitaṃ ca bhairavātmatayaikībhūtaṃ bhedātmakavyavacchedadāridryāpasāraṇena sarvasarvātmakapadaprāptyā vṛṃhitam - iti visargapadaṃ nirṇītaṃ caitadavadhānena |


“This entire net of tattvas rises forth as Bhairava-natured. Therefore, being emitted outward, it is expanded Brahman, whose nature is visarga. And even while standing outwardly, it is unified through Bhairava-nature; by the removal of the poverty of separative delimitation, and by the attainment of the state where everything is everything, it is expanded. Thus the word visarga has been determined through this careful attention.”


Abhinava now gives the culmination of the whole movement: visarga.

The entire tattva-jāla, the whole net of tattvas, rises forth — ucchalat — as bhairavātmatā, Bhairava-nature. This is not a small statement. The tattvas are usually experienced as the machinery of limitation: body, senses, mind, ego, time, causality, desire, limited knowledge, objecthood, world. They form the net in which the bound being feels caught.

But Abhinava says: seen rightly, this entire net surges as Bhairava.

Not one layer only. Not the pure tattvas only. Not the lofty levels only. The entire net. The whole structure of manifestation rises as Bhairava-nature when its separative misrecognition is removed.

Then comes visarga: the outward emission. The Heart does not remain sealed in bindu. The condensed point emits. Brahman becomes vṛṃhita, expanded, extended outward. But this outwardness is not a fall into alienation. It is bahir-visṛjyamānaṃ vṛṃhitaṃ brahma — Brahman expanding by being emitted outward.

This is the secret of Abhinava’s visarga: manifestation is not automatically poverty. It becomes poverty only when it is cut off by bhedātmaka-vyavaccheda, separative delimitation — “this is only this,” “I am only this,” “this object is outside me,” “this world is not the Heart,” “this body is not Śakti,” “this experience is not Bhairava.”

That is the dāridrya, the poverty.

The poverty is not manifestation itself. The poverty is the contraction that turns manifestation into isolated fragments. A thing becomes poor when it is seen as merely itself, cut off from the whole. The individual becomes poor when he believes he is only this body, this mind, this story, this wound, this status, this fear. The world becomes poor when it is seen as dead matter outside consciousness.

Visarga removes that poverty by restoring sarva-sarvātmakatā — the state where everything is everything. This phrase is enormous. It does not mean that distinctions vanish into confusion. It means that each thing is no longer imprisoned in separative smallness. Each thing is rooted in all. Each form carries the whole Heart. Each tattva is Bhairava when seen through Bhairava.

So the outward world does not need to be rejected. It needs to be freed from the lie of separateness.

This is why the chunk began with the intermingling of Śaktis. The powers enter one another. Icchā enters Anuttara. Śakti trembles. Bīja becomes capable of concealment and birth. Kāma stirs. Vāk articulates. Bindu condenses. Visarga emits. And now the whole emitted field is recognized as Bhairava’s expansion.

The movement is complete:

bindu gathers everything into the Heart.
visarga emits everything from the Heart.
Recognition sees that even what stands outwardly is still Bhairava.

This is also the practical culmination. In bondage, life feels like dispersion. The world feels outside. The body feels separate. Thoughts feel private. Objects feel alien. Desire feels like lack. Speech becomes noise. Action becomes fragmentation.

In recognition, the same emitted field becomes vṛṃhitaṃ brahma — expanded Brahman. The outward does not cease to appear, but its poverty is removed. It no longer stands as “mere outside.” It is unified through Bhairava-nature.

That is the fire of visarga. It is not just emission. It is not just grammatical release. It is the sacred outwardness in which the Heart becomes world without ceasing to be Heart.

Abhinava says the word visarga has now been determined through careful attention. And the determination is this: visarga is the expansion of Brahman as the outward emission of the tattva-net, recognized as Bhairava, freed from the poverty of separative limitation, and restored to the all-in-all state.

 

No comments:

Post a Comment