The Lord is a special soul. He is untouched by the obstacles [to the practice of yoga], karma, the fructification [of karma], and subconscious predispositions.

Bryant Commentary:

Vyāsa, Vācaspati Miśra, and other commentators dedicate their longest commentaries to this sūtra. Patañjali notes here that Īśvara, too, is a puruṣa, but he is viśeṣa, special, that is, different and distinct from other puruṣas. He briefly lists four conditions of saṁsāra from which Īśvara is free, and these are elaborated upon by Vyāsa and the commentators. The cause of saṁsāra is the kleśas, obstacles—ignorance, ego, attachment, aversion, and the will to live—which are discussed in II.3. Under the influence of these, the individual engages in the second item on the list, karma, which consists of one’s actions, whether good or bad. As discussed, actions produce a corollary, their fructification, listed here as vipāka, which is the effect they produce—every action has a corresponding reaction. Chapter II will discuss in detail how these reactions manifest as the situation into which one is born, one’s life expectancy, and one’s life experience (II.13–14). Vyāsa glosses the final term in the list, āśaya (that which lies stored), with vāsanās, habits, or clusters of saṁskāras. While the terms are often used interchangeably, vāsanās tend to refer to latent saṁskāras of past lives, which lie dormant, albeit subconsciously molding personality, habit, and choice, and saṁskāras to the more active imprints of this life generated at every moment. Saṁskāras have to be contained somewhere, and the āśaya is their bed or container in the citta. Vācaspati Miśra adds that these vāsanās and saṁ-skāras, subliminal imprints or subconscious impressions that eventually fructify, lie stored as potencies in the field of the mind. Īśvara is free from all of these conditions of saṁsāra; hence he is a special type of puruṣa.

Since yogīs who have broken the three bonds and attained liberation are free from these influences, Vyāsa makes a point of noting that Īśvara is distinct from liberated puruṣas, since he never had nor ever will have any relation to these bonds. Unlike all other yogīs, then, he never was bound and never will be. He is eternally the transcendent God, not some sort of a liberated yogī. As Śaṅkara points out, akliṣṭa, untouched, means never touched by the four conditions for saṁsāra noted above, whether in time past, present, or future. A liberated yogī was once touched by all these in the past but is no longer in the present. Īśvara was never touched to begin with. He is therefore in a different category from liberated yogīs.

The notion in some modern commentaries that Īśvara is some sort of “archetypal” yogī (Eliade 1969) is nowhere to be found in the traditional commentarial tradition of the Yoga school, nor, for that matter, in the usage of the term Īśvara in the history of Indic philosophical discourse. In later classical Indic philosophical circles there were Īśvara-vādins, those believing in Īśvara, and nir-īśvara-vādins, those who rejected the notion of an Īśvara, a supreme God, but whether Īśvara-vādin or nir-īśvara-vādin, there was no debate at least as to the basic and general referent of the term, Īśvara. The arguments were philosophical, revolving around whether the existence of a personal god was philosophically defensible, not semantic, in terms of what Īśvara meant. While the term can, on occasion, refer by extension to a being with extraordinary power, texts such as the Mahābhārata, the Gītā, and later Upaniṣads indicate that Īśvara was associated with a personal God, a supreme being, by Patañjali’s time, and one would need compelling grounds to renegotiate the meaning of the term as it is used and understood by the entire later Indic philosophical tradition in general in the premodern period. The term cannot be extricated from its traditional context.

On a related note, it is generally held, including in traditional philosophical discourse, that Patañjali’s Īśvara is not a creator sort of God. Sāṅkhya is criticized in Vedānta for considering creation to evolve from inanimate prakṛti (pradhāna) rather than the conscious Brahman of the Upaniṣads, and the only criticism levied against Yoga by this school is that it is viewed to hold the same position (etena yogaḥ pratyuktaḥ), so Patañjali’s Īśvara seems to have been seen in this light, and this is, of course, significant. Now, there are two types of creatorship: God as material cause (the material stuff of the world emanates from God) and God as efficient cause (God does not create the actual material substance of the world, which is eternal as is He, but it is He who manipulates this stuff to create the world). But Patañjali nowhere indicates how he envisioned the relationship of Īśvara with the creation of the world. Argumentum ex silentio is not the strongest type of evidence, especially since Patañjali is not talking about creation in the sections of the text where he mentions Īśvara. He introduces Īśvara in the context of meditation, since that is his project in this text. While he does briefly mention a few attributes of Īśvara, they are relevant to the ongoing discussion on meditation and liberation from saṁsāra. Creation is an entirely different topic not connected with the subject matter of the sūtras and thus one has no explicit grounds from the text itself to determine how Patañjali envisioned the relationship of Īśvara with creation. He does correlate Īśvara with oṁ, in I.27, and would have been well aware that oṁ is the designation for Brahman in the Upaniṣads, and that Brahman is depicted there and consequently in the Vedānta tradition as the source of creation. And certainly all the commentators do accept the creatorship of Īśvara, that is, Īśvara as efficient cause.

This seems a fairly important point. Patañjali’s compact sūtras provide succinct information germane to his specific and immediate project, citta-vṛtti-nirodha (samādhi). He thus provides whatever information related to Īśvara is immediately relevant: that samādhi can be attained by Īśvara; that this is possible because Īśvara is omniscient and beyond the kleśas and other sources of ignorance dealt with in the text that impede samādhi; that this can be attained by reciting oṁ, etc. There was no need to extrapolate further since, apart from this commitment to a very delimited focus, there was anyway no paucity of other theistic texts dealing with all manner of additional theological specificities in circulation at the time. (Certainly Vijñānabhikṣu, although much later and clearly a Vedāntin, explicitly states this: “Now what is Īśvara? What is devotion to Him? … He has been very thoroughly analyzed in the Vedānta Sūtras … Consequently, it is only touched upon in passing here.”)

To make this point, one could wonder why Patañjali has nothing to say about, for instance, disease, which he mentions in I.30. Again, this solitary reference is in the context of disease being an obstacle to samādhi, and in this regard only is it relevant to and therefore introduced in Patañjali’s project. There was an extensive body of knowledge in āyurveda on other aspects of disease available at the time. That greater body of knowledge is not relevant to Patañjali’s project, but this does not mean Patañjali did not consider texts that do focus on āyurveda essential to human existence, or did not accept their jurisdiction. Likewise, Patañjali’s text focuses on puruṣa, not Īśvara. But this does not mean he minimizes or rejects the jurisdiction and contours of those texts that focus on other aspects of Īśvara such as creation, or, for that matter, the varieties of praṇidhāna.

To my knowledge, all unambiguous theistic traditions taking root in Patañjali’s day—epic, Purāṇic, Vedānta, Nyāya—accepted Brahman/Īśvara at least as efficient creator (if not, with the Vedāntins, material creator)—understandably because the Upaniṣadic and epic usages of the term cast Īśvara (or the more common Upaniṣadic term, Īśa) in this role. What grounds do we have from this period to insist that Patañjali’s notion of Īśvara was an exception other than the Vedānta Sūtras reference? And even here the evidence simply points to some form of Yoga being associated with some form of Sāṅkhya as denying material creatorship to Brahman. But, even prior to the Vedānta Sūtras, the Mahābhārata states that he whom both Sāṅkhya and Yoga call the Supreme Soul, Nārāyaṇa, is the source of prakṛti, so both prior to the Vedānta Sūtras and also after their composition, there were mainstream strains of Sāṅkhya and Yoga that did accept the creatorship of Īśvara. We have no grounds to consider the author of the Vedānta Sūtras to be referring to Patañjali’s version of Yoga in the quote noted above, since the Yoga Sūtras postdated him. Rather, the very fact that Patañjali makes no reference to the creatorship aspect of Īśvara suggests he accepted the status quo. We must, I suggest, accept that Patañjali considered Īśvara at least as efficient cause of creation.

Moreover, the fact that this sūtra indicates that Īśvara is not touched by the kleśas and karma does not indicate that Īśvara could not be a personal God for Patañjali. If he is the teacher of the ancients (I.26), the bestower of liberation (II.45), and omniscient (I.25), then he must have some sort of personality (even to accept a form of pure sattva as held by the commentators), and clearly Patañjali does not consider his involvement with prakṛti in this capacity to compromise him or subject him to the laws of prakṛti—the kleśas and karma, etc. Our commentators differ on how to make sense of this important point, but practically any theistic tradition of the world envisions God as a personal being involved in some way with the world and yet simultaneously absolute and temporally untouched, and the notions of Īśvara prevalent in Patañjali’s time are no exception. One need only consider the Gītā, where Kṛṣṇa as Īśvara unambiguously claims to be the creator and source of everything (VII.4ff; IX.8; X.8; and throughout), the Īśvara who enters into the world of prakṛti and supports it (XV.16–18)141 and yet remains untouched and unchanged by all such things (IV.13–14; IX.8–9). The point here is not to project the theology of the Gītā onto Patañjali but to stress that Patañjali’s Īśvara cannot be extracted from the context of Īśvara-related theologies of the time. The entire Śvetāśvatara Upaniṣad, too, presents Śiva as Īśvara, who actively creates, rules, and engages with the world and yet remains distinct and transcendent to it. Moreover, the largest body of Sanskrit written material, the Purāṇic genre, while yet to attain its final form, was absorbing oral traditions that predated Patañjali’s time, and these are pervaded with Viṣṇu/Kṛṣṇa and Śiva theologies of this sort. We have no grounds to insist that Patañjali’s Īśvara be distinct from such theistic expressions, and thus stress that in our view Patañjali’s reference to Īśvara cannot be excised from this context of his time.

Fewer than twenty-five words have been utilized in the sūtras descriptive of Īśvara. Far too much has been made, in our view, by extracting from the greater theistic landscape of Patañjali’s day his terse statements toward a description of Īśvara and focusing on them as if they exist in some sort of isolated bubble specific to Patañjali and immune from the mainstream Īśvara theologies that were enveloping the Indian landscape. We have noted how earlier scholars opted to consider the entire Īśvara element as a later interpolation, in the hope, we suspect, of preserving a rational core to Patañjali, possibly stemming from discomfort with this vivid background of Hindu Īśvara theologies. Even with the more careful attention of later scholars who recognize that the Īśvara element is inherent to the text, one senses an aversion to pursuing the implications of this. In Patañjali’s day and age (and subsequently, for that matter), what options would there have been for any type of Īśvara theism other than the Nārāyaṇa/Viṣṇu- and Śiva-derived traditions? Viṣṇu and Śiva had risen to prominence centuries before Patañjali, and their worship was widespread across the subcontinent by the beginning of the Common Era. The Īśvara theological options of the time are amply preserved in the epic and much neglected Purāṇic traditions, and thus we have gone so far as to speculate whether, given the theistic options of the second and third centuries, one can legitimately reject the probability that Patañjali would have envisioned Īśvara as either Viṣṇu or Śiva, as I have considered (only somewhat gratuitously) elsewhere.

Many centuries prior to Patañjali, there were Sāṅkhya/Yoga traditions preserved in the Mahābhārata that were theistic, all with Vaiṣṇava flavorings. Ramakrishna Rao (1966) has extensively sieved through the Sāṅkhya and Yoga (Mokṣadharma) sections of the great epic and determined that there were several variant schools subscribing to Sāṅkhyan metaphysics, all of them theistic in some form or fashion. These theistic expressions were Vaiṣṇava in orientation, that is, they used the language of Viṣṇu/Nārāyaṇa when referring to Īśvara (even in those variants that conceived of the Supreme Truth in less personal terms). And, of course, the epic’s Bhagavad Gītā (generally dated between the fourth and second centuries B.C.E.) has Viṣṇu in his form as Kṛṣṇa emphatically stating throughout that he is Īśvara and that prakṛti and her Sāṅkhyan evolutes are his “lower nature” (VII.4). The only extant description of the supposed original source Sāṅkhyan text, the S˙aṣṭi-tantra-śāstra in the (admittedly later and sectarian) Vaiṣṇava Ahirbudhnya Saṁhitā, also accepts a Sāṅkhyan Īśvara and considers him to be Viṣṇu, and these Vaiṣṇava Sāṅkhyan traditions were preserved in the Purāṇas, as in the later Vedānta traditions (including that of Śaṅkara who clearly conceived of Īśvara as Viṣṇu). There was thus a widespread variety of Vaiṣṇava-flavored Īśvara traditions preserved in a variety of genres long preceding Patañjali.

Indeed, every characteristic Patañjali will make about Īśvara being transcendent to karma, of unsurpassed omniscience, teacher of the ancients, untouched by Time, represented by oṁ, and awarding enlightenment seem extracted from the Gītā. In the Gītā, Kṛṣṇa claims to be a distinct (but supreme) sort of puruṣa, the uttamaḥ puruṣas anyaḥ, specifying that this puruṣa is distinct from not only nonliberated puruṣas but also liberated ones (XV.16–18)149; beyond karma and the kleśas (IV.14; IX.9); of unsurpassed omniscience (VII.26; X.20, 32; XI.43); the teacher of the ancients (IV.1, specified as Vivasvān the sun god, who in turn imparted knowledge to Manu, the progenitor of mankind); transcendent to Time (X.30); the sound oṁ (IX.17); the remover of obstacles impeding the progress of his devotees, and the bestower of liberation (VII.14; IX.30–32; X.10–11; XII.7; XVIII.58). There is thus perfect compatibility in quality between Patañjali’s unnamed Īśvara and Kṛṣṇa as depicted in the Gītā. Similarly with the attributes assigned to Nārāyaṇa/Viṣṇu throughout the Nārāyaṇīya portion of the Mokṣa–dharma section in the twelfth book of the Mahābhārata epic, which unambiguously presents Viṣṇu as the supreme deity possessing all these characteristics throughout.

Of course, the Mahābhārata with its Gītā was not the only well-known philosophical text on the religious landscape at the beginning of the Common Era promoting theism to an identified Īśvara. A definite theism had also long emerged in the late Upaniṣads, particularly the Śvetāśvatara Upaniṣad (generally dated from the fourth to second century B.C.E.), which vigorously identifies Śiva (named Rudra and Hara in this text) as Īśvara. Indeed, the Śvetāśvatara Upaniṣad assigns to Śiva several of the same generic characteristics associated with Īśvara that Patañjali uses: He is distinct from other souls; he is the awarder of liberation (or, more precisely, by meditating on him all illusion disappears, I.10); he is omniscient and the maker of Time (VI.2, 16); and he supported (taught) the ancient sage Kapila, the founder of the Sāṅkhyan system. This text is very relevant to our line of argument as it promotes yogic practice; Chapter II gives the most extensive (and almost sole) description of yoga in the earlier Upaniṣads (along with the later Maitrī). Moreover, the sūtra is situated in the context of Sāṅkhyan metaphysics, which is the infrastructure within which Patañjali situates his yoga system.

The Gītā (by most dating estimates) and the Śvetāśvatara Upaniṣad had preceded Patañjali by centuries, as had many of the Purāṇic stories, even if they were still being organized into their final literary forms, and there is no evidence that Patañjali’s rendition of Īśvara is a departure from such specific theistic orientations. Indeed, the question must be raised as to what alternatives to Viṣṇu or Śiva would there be anyway in that period. We thus suggest that the evidence points to the conclusion that the theism in Patañjali’s system can stem only from these preexisting Vaiṣṇava or Śaivite strains.

One might add a final note here, that Patañjali not only stipulates the practice of svādhyāya, literally self-study, understood in all the commentaries as referring to the study of scripture (which teaches of the self) and recitation of japa (II.1, 44), but also states that from such study and recitation one connects with an iṣṭa–devatā, one’s divinity of preference (a term used in the Upaniṣads and earlier Vedic texts to refer to the Vedic gods). That Patañjali was well versed in the śāstras, sacred texts—and thus hardly immune to the theistic currents of the day—is already obvious; this sūtra suggests he was himself oriented toward a specific divinity of preference. It is hard to conceive that this divinity would have been one of the (by this time) minor Vedic deities for reasons outlined in the commentary to II.44 (where I again take up the matter of Patañjali’s own personal theistic orientations), but which can be summarized by pointing out that the minor deities are approached for worldly boons. Obviously the yogī has no interest in worldly boons, as Patañjali has already specified. The yogī is interested only in samādhi, and the only divine being who can bestow this is Īśvara. Thus, iṣṭa–devatā might better be read, as it is taken in the theistic traditions, as a reference to a form of Īśvara to which the yogī is partial. This is underscored by the fact that all the commentators understand svādhyāya as also referring to the recitation of mantra, japa, which Vyāsa, following Patañjali (I.27–28) takes as reciting oṁ. Oṁ, we will see, specifically refers to Īśvara. So whether svādhyāya is taken to be study or mantra, iṣṭa–devatā can conceivably refer only to a preferred form of Īśvara. The preferred forms of Īśvara in the second century had long been associated with Śiva or Viṣṇu or one of his incarnations such as Kṛṣṇa. There were no other candidates.

If one felt inclined to push the matter, the scanty inferential evidence that can be brought to bear on the case for Viṣṇu as Patañjali’s iṣṭa–devatā might include the facts that, apart from the evidence of the earlier Vaiṣṇava-flavored Yoga streams preserved in the Mahābhārata noted above, the later tradition considered Patañjali to be an incarnation of Śeṣa, Viṣṇu’s serpent carrier in the Ocean of Milk (rather than, say, Nandi, Śiva’s bull carrier) and assigns the primary commentary on Patañjali to the famous Vyāsa, who is embedded in Vaiṣṇava narrative traditions. Indeed, the Mahābhārata (XII.337.4–5) considers Vyāsa a manifestation (aṁśa) of Viṣṇu/Nārāyaṇa and the son of the latter. This might suggest the preservation of a tradition that was partial to Īśvara as Viṣṇu. For this and other reasons, a case can thus be made that Patañjali personally subscribed to the Vaiṣṇava/Viṣṇu-flavored theism of the older epic and Purāṇic Sāṅkhya and Yoga traditions. But one can also make a case for Śiva. Perhaps any such reading of the sparse evidence reflects preexisting dispositions, but one can certainly argue that Īśvara in Patañjali’s time had long been associated with Viṣṇu and Śiva, and thus Patañjali would in all likelihood have been either a Vaiṣṇavite or a Śaivite.

Having said all this, one cannot ignore the fact that Patañjali chose not to disclose his understanding of Īśvara other than in the most general categories of relevance to the specific focus of the sūtras, citta–vṛtti–nirodha. I like to imagine that Patañjali is too sophisticated and broad-minded a thinker to risk sectarianizing the otherwise universalistic tenor of the sūtras and thereby alienating the sensitivities of aspiring yogīs with theistic (or nontheistic) orientations different from his own. That millions of people worldwide continue to find his text personally relevant today speaks to his foresight in this regard.

On a related note, the Yoga tradition in America today primarily stems from the Vaiṣṇava (Viṣṇu-centered) traditions. Krishnamacharya, his son Desikachar, and his son-in-law Iyengar are all devoted members of the Śrī lineage of Vaiṣṇavism, best associated with the twelfth-century Vedāntin Rāmānuja. This is a devotional lineage, prioritizing bhakti, which accepts Viṣṇu as the Supreme Īśvara. This aspect of their heritage is unknown to most of their followers, since it was not stressed by these ācāryas upon coming to Western shores viniyoga writings of Desikachar than in those of Iyengar). The transplantation of Vaiṣṇava bhakti to the West in modern times as a yogic path unto itself is to be credited to the efforts of A. C. Bhaktivedānta Swami, founder of ISKCON (the Hare Krishna movement), whose devotion to Lord Kṛṣṇa inspired him to spread Kṛṣṇa-centered bhakti–yoga (Kṛṣṇa Consciousness) around the world. Noteworthy, too, in the same time period, is the transplantation of the Kashmiri form of Śaivism featuring bhakti to Lord Śiva popularized by Swami Muktānanda, founder of Siddha Yoga.

Returning to our commentators, Īśvara is unsurpassed by any other power, continues Vyāsa; he has no competitor. Nor does he have an equal. As Vyāsa puts it rhetorically, if, among two equals, one says of a desired object: “Let it be old,” and the other says: “Let it be new,” the wishes of one of the two will be thwarted since they cannot both have their way. And if, on the other hand, their wishes never contradict, adds Vācaspati Miśra, then what is the point of having more than one Īśvara in the first place? Thus, Īśvara has no equal but is the one sole being who is unexcelled and unequaled. Therefore, Patañjali states that he is a special puruṣa. His existence is substantiated by the scriptures, add the commentators (Vijñānabhikṣu lists a variety of passages in this regard, such as the occurrence of the term Īśvara in the Gītā [for example, XV.17]). The scriptures are themselves the product of Īśvara when he associates with pure sattva. Thus there is circularity among Īśvara, pure sattva, and scripture: Īśvara produces scripture from his adoption of pure sattva, and scripture directs one to Īśvara. Obviously this means that, since Īśvara is omniscient, and it goes without saying that he is beyond any cheating propensity due to his nature of pure sattva, the scriptures emanating from him are absolute and free from error.

Vācaspati Miśra raises an issue here concerning Īśvara’s “personality.” If Īśvara has knowledge and the power to act, as the previous sūtras indicate that he does (since he has the power to bestow liberation on the devoted yogī and thus must be aware of his devotion, and I.27 informs us that he taught the ancients), does this not mean he has a citta mind? Pure consciousness, Vācaspati Miśra reminds us, is unchanging and without object according to the Yoga school (and an axiom of Hindu thought in general), and therefore removed from all knowledge and the desire to act. Knowledge and desire are thus functions of citta, in other words, citta–vṛttis. Did not the opening sūtras of the text inform us that these very citta–vṛttis are responsible for bondage in saṁsāra? The citta itself is the product of prakṛti and thus has its origin in ignorance, avidyā. How can Īśvara, who is forever free, be bound by prakṛti and its products and subject to ignorance in the form of citta–vṛttis?

Vācaspati Miśra resolves this dichotomy by supposing that the Lord, even though untouched by nescience, appears to assume the nature of ignorance out of his freedom, just as an actor imitating Rāma freely assumes the character of Rāma. But the actor does not forget his real self. In the same way, Īśvara associates with pure sattva, free from the influence of rajas and tamas, out of his own free will, says Vācaspati Miśra. A parallel notion of Īśvara is expressed in the Gītā:

Although I am unborn and my nature is imperishable
And although I am the Īśvara of all beings
Yet I come into being by my own power
By controlling prakṛti, which is mine. (IV.6)

Nonetheless, even if Īśvara associates with prakṛti out of freedom rather than bondage, his inclination to do so still indicates desire on his part, and desire, for Vācaspati Miśra, is also a symptom of ignorance. To address this philosophical objection, Vācaspati Miśra patches together a rather complicated argument (that will not meet the approval of Vijñānabhikṣu). He argues that Īśvara is transcendent to Time. Before the dissolution of the universe, Īśvara determines, or wills, that he will again associate with sattva when the next universal manifestation occurs. This wish or saṁskāra is deposited into sattva along with the collective saṁskāras of all embodied beings. When dissolution occurs, all saṁsāric puruṣas remain in a latent state until the next manifestation. The saṁskāras each puruṣa had accumulated in past lives also remain latent but are again regrouped around the appropriate puruṣa when the next cosmic manifestation takes place. This, for Vācaspati Miśra, applies to Īśvara: After dissolution, Īśvara disconnects from sattva and all acts of volition (i.e., from the citta), as do all other puruṣas. But when the universe manifests again, Īśvara’s determination from the previous cycle is activated, like a cosmic alarm clock, and Īśvara again associates with prakṛti (just as, says Vācaspati Miśra, Caitra who contemplates “tomorrow I must get up at daybreak” and then, after sleeping, gets up at that very time because of the saṁskāra he had deposited into the citta the previous day to this effect). This cumbersome explanation is construed to explain how desire, knowledge, and the will to act, which in conventional Yoga understanding are citta-vṛttis indicative of unliberated puruṣas in saṁsāra, can exist in Īśvara, whom Patañjali says in this sūtra has always been pure and liberated and free from ignorance.

Vācaspati Miśra does not explain how, in the new cycle of creation, the pure and independent Īśvara can become influenced by the reactivated sattva containing his deposited wish from the previous cosmic cycle. Vijñānabhikṣu draws attention to this problem, pointing out that it is ignorance that causes puruṣa to associate (or, after cosmic dissolution, reassociate) with prakṛti—but how can ignorance be applicable to Īśvara? Rather, for Vijñānabhikṣu, desire, knowledge, and the power to act exist in Īśvara eternally. Here, he again reflects the position held by certain Vedānta schools, which also hold that Īśvara’s mind and, for that matter, body are not prākṛtic productions, even in its pure sāttvic potential, but made of pure Brahman and thus part of the essential nature of Īśvara rather than an external prākṛtic covering as is the case with the mind and bodies covering the puruṣas in saṁsāra.

Vijñānabhikṣu uses this sūtra as an opportunity to argue on behalf of the view of the Sāṅkhya and Yoga schools that there is an eternal plurality of puruṣas, in opposition to the position of the advaita, non-dualistic, school of Vedānta, which posits one ultimate, single all-pervading puruṣa (ātman). The Yoga view holds that, both in the liberated state as well as in the world of saṁsāra, there is a plurality of individual souls, while the advaita school holds that the apparent plurality of puruṣas, including the puruṣa known as Īśvara, is a product of ignorance occurring only in the world of saṁsāra. In advaita Vedānta, from a liberated perspective, there is only one undivided ātman. Other Vedānta schools, such as Rāmānuja’s viśiṣṭādvaita, oppose this view, and Vijñānabhikṣu presents various arguments against the advaita position that can be found in the writing of Rāmānuja and other post-Śaṅkara Vedāntins. For example, if there were only one ultimate undivided ātman, then if any one jīva (the ātman in saṁsāric bondage) becomes liberated, it attains to this undivided state. How, then, can other jīvas continue to exist in saṁsāra? In other words, if there is only one undivided ātman in reality, how can it exist in both liberated as well as saṁsāric states? This contradicts the supposed undividedness of ātman. For this reason alone, there must therefore be a plurality of puruṣas, some liberated and some in saṁsāra, as held by the Sāṅkhya Kārikās (XVIII). The argument has a history in the polemics of Vedāntins opposed to Śaṅkara’s extreme advaita form of monism. Thus, Īśvara is distinct from the puruṣas, and the individual puruṣas from each other.

And, importantly, clearly in response to the Vedānta criticism of Sāṅkhya (and, by extension Yoga), Bhoja Rāja notes that it is by the will (icchā) of Īśvara that the union between puruṣa and prakṛti takes place. The Vedāntins point out that since prakṛti is inert and unconscious, and puruṣa in its pure form is free of all desire or any content of consciousness, how could the union between the two ever occur? For Bhoja Rāja, as for the Vedānta and all other theistic traditions, it is the desire of Īśvara (in conjunction with the previous activities of each puruṣa) that brings about the union between the two in each cycle of creation (the issue of first time primordial beginnings is avoided in Indian philosophy in general by positing that this cycle is beginningless). Thus, with Bhoja Rāja, Vijñānabhikṣu, and, of course, Śaṅkara and other commentators, Vedāntic concerns are blended into the commentaries on the Yoga Sūtras (which is an organic and quintessentially orthodox exegetical thing to do).

Tapas (Austerity Or Sturdy Self-Discipline—Mental, Moral And Physical), Svadhyaya (Repetition Of Sacred Mattras Or Study Of Sacred Literature) And Isvara-Pranidhana (Complete Surrender To God) Are Kriya-Yoga (Yoga In The Form Of Action).

Yogic action has three components—discipline, self-study, and orientation toward the ideal of pure awareness.

The practical means for attaining higher consciousness consist of three components: self-discipline and purification, self-study, and devotion to the Lord.

Austerity, self-study and resignation to Isvara constitute preliminary Yoga.

Taimini Commentary:

The last three of the five elements of Niyama enumerated in II-32 have been placed in the above Sutra under the title of Kriya-Yoga. This is rather an unusual procedure and we should try to grasp the significance of this repetition in a book which attempts to condense knowledge to the utmost limit. Obviously, the reason why Tapas, Svadhyaya and Isvara-Pranidhana are mentioned in two different contexts lies in the fact that they serve two different purposes. And since the development of the subject of self-culture in Section II of the Yoga-Sutras is progressive in character it follows that the purpose of these three elements in II-l is of a more preliminary nature than that in II-32. Their purpose in II-32 is the same as that of the other elements of Niyama and has been discussed at the proper place. What is the purpose in the context of II-l? Let us see. 

Anyone who is familiar with the goal of Yogic life and the kind of effort it involves for its attainment will realize that it is neither possible nor advisable for anybody who is absorbed in the life of the world and completely under the influence of Klesas to plunge all at once into the regular practice of Yoga. If he is sufficiently interested in the Yogic philosophy and wants to enter the path which leads to its goal he should first accustom himself to discipline, should acquire the necessary knowledge of the Dharma-Sastras and especially of the Yoga-Sastras and should reduce the intensity of his egoism and all the other Klesas which are derived from it. The difference between the outlook and the life of the ordinary worldly man and the life which the Yogi is required to live is so great that a sudden change from the one to the other is not possible and if attempted may produce a violent reaction in the mind of the aspirant, throwing him back with still greater force into the life of the world. A preparatory period of self-training in which he gradually assimilates the Yogic philosophy and its technique and accustoms himself to self-discipline makes the transition from the one life to the other easier and safer. It also incidentally enables the mere student to find out whether he is sufficiently keen to adopt the Yogic life and make a serious attempt to realize the Yogic ideal. There are too many cases of enthusiastic aspirants who for no apparent reason cool off, or finding the Yogic discipline too irksome, give it up. They are not yet ready for the Yogic life.

Even where there is present the required earnestness and the determination to tread the path of Yoga it is necessary to establish a permanent mood and habit of pursuing its ideal. Mere wishing or willing is not enough. All the mental powers and desires of the Sadhaka should be polarized and aligned with the Yogic ideal. Many aspirants have very confused and sometimes totally wrong ideas with regard to the object and technique of Yoga. Many of them have very exaggerated notions with regard to their earnestness and capacity to tread the path of Yoga. Their ideas become clarified and their capacity and earnestness are tested severely in trying to practise Kriya-Yoga. They either emerge from the preliminary self-discipline with a clearly defined aim and a determination and capacity to pursue it to the end with vigour and single-minded devotion, or they gradually realize that they are not yet ready for the practice of Yoga and decide to tune their aspiration to the lower key of mere intellectual study.

This preparatory self-discipline is triple in its nature corresponding to the triple nature of a human being. Tapas is related to his will, Svadhyaya to the intellect and Isvara-Pranidhana to the emotions. This discipline, therefore, tests and develops all the three aspects of his nature and produces an all-round and balanced growth of the individuality which is so essential for the attainment of any high ideal. This point will become clear when we consider the significance of these three elements of Kriya-Yoga in dealing with II-32.

There exists some confusion with regard to the meaning of the Samskrta word Kriya, some commentators preferring to translate it as ‘preliminary’, others as ‘practical’. As a matter of fact Kriya-Yoga is both practical and preliminary. It is preliminary because it has to be taken up in the initial stages of the practice of Yoga and it is practical because it puts to a practical test the aspirations and earnestness of the Sadhaka and develops in him the capacity to begin the practice of Yoga as distinguished from its mere theoretical study however deep this might be.

Burning zeal in practice, self-study and study of scriptures, and surrender to God are the acts of yoga.

Iyengar Commentary:

For Patañjali, the practice of yoga is the ‘yoga of action’, kriyayoga, composed of tapas, self-discipline, svadhyaya, self-study and Isvara pranidhana, surrender to God.

Tapas is the blazing desire to burn away the impurities of body, senses and mind. Svadhyaya is the repetition of sacred mantras and the study of spiritual sacred texts in order to comprehend one’s own self. Isvara pranidhana is surrender of one’s body, mind and soul to God through love for Him.
Most commentators consider that this pada is intended for novices, and not for those who have already reached a high level of spiritual evolution. This is surely untrue, as sadhana is meant for both. The argument that it is only for those still roaming aimlessly in the world of pleasure does not take account of the fact that this wandering is merely a sign of a fluctuating consciousness, which may remain a problem even for evolved souls. By following the precepts of kriyayoga, all aspirants may learn to live in unshakeable serenity regardless of circumstances.

From this pada onwards, both beginner and evolved soul learn how to stabilize the mind. Its instructions enable the evolved soul to progress more rapidly towards the goal of purity and emancipation.

The disciplines of purifying man’s three constituents, body, speech and mind constitute kriyayoga, the path to perfection. Our bodies are purified by self-discipline (tapas), our words by Self-study (svadhyaya) and our minds by love and surrender to Him (Isvara pranidhana).

This sutra represents the three great paths: karma, jñana and bhakti. The path of action (karma-marga) is the discipline (tapas) of body, senses and mind. The path of knowledge (jnana-marga) is the study of the self (svadhyaya) from the skin to the core and back again. The path of love of God (bhakti-marga) is surrender (pranidhana) of all to God.

Sadhana pada identifies the source of all these paths. The first represents life, the second wisdom. The third, through the surrender of ego, brings the humility that leads to the effulgent, sorrowless light of Isvara, God.
”

Excerpt From
Light on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali
B. K. S. Iyengar
https://books.apple.com/us/book/light-on-the-yoga-sutras-of-patanjali/id538108384
This material may be protected by copyright.

Accepting pain as help for purification, study of spiritual books and surrender to the Supreme Being constitute Yoga in practice.

Satchidananda Commentary:

Using the Sanskrit terms, Kriyā Yoga comprises tapas, svādhyāya and Īśvara praṇidhāna. Tapas is often misunderstood, because it gets translated as “mortification” or “austerity, ” when it actually stands for something different here. Tapas means “to burn or create heat.” Anything burned out will be purified. The more you fire gold, for example, the more pure it becomes. Each time it goes into the fire, more impurities are removed.

But how can this burning process be effected with our mental impurities? By accepting all the pain that comes to us, even though the nature of the mind is to run after pleasure. We will actually be happy to receive pain if we keep in mind its purifying effects. Such acceptance makes the mind steady and strong because, although it is easy to give pain to others, it is hard to accept without returning it. Such self-discipline obviously cannot be practiced in our meditation rooms, but only in our daily lives as we relate with other people.

Tapas also refers to self-discipline. Normally the mind is like a wild horse tied to a chariot. Imagine the body is the chariot; the intelligence is the charioteer; the mind is the reins; and the horses are the senses. The Self, or true you, is the passenger. If the horses are allowed to gallop without reins and charioteer, the journey will not be safe for the passenger. Although control of the senses and organs often seems to bring pain in the beginning, it eventually ends in happiness. If tapas is understood in this light, we will look forward to pain; we will even thank people who cause it, since they are giving us the opportunity to steady our minds and burn out impurities.

In the seventeenth chapter of the Bhagavad Gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa [Krishna] talks about tapasya. He says, “Those who practice severe austerities not enjoined by the scriptures; who are given to hypocrisy and egoism, impelled by the forces of lust and attachment; who are senseless; who torture all the elements in the body and Me also who dwells in the body; know thou these to be of demoniacal resolves.” In the name of tapasya people sometimes practice all sorts of self-torture. In the East there are sādhus (ascetics) who lie on beds of nails or keep one arm raised in the air so the arm gets thinner and thinner and finally decays. These are all just forms of self-torture. Lord Kṛṣṇa himself says these people are demons because they disturb the pure Self who dwells within their bodies. Self-discipline is an aid to spiritual progress, whereas self-torture is an obstacle.

Lord Kṛṣṇa divides the true austerities into three groups: physical, verbal and mental. He classifies worship, purity, straightforwardness, celibacy and non-injury as the austerities of the body. Many people immediately come to the conclusion that physical tapasya is not suitable for them. The moment they hear the word “celibacy” they become dismayed. But brahmacarya, or celibacy, means control, not suppression, of the sex desire or sex force. If the mind can be filled with sublime thoughts by meditation, mantra repetition, prayer, study of scriptures and contemplation of the sexless, pure Self, the sex desire will be devitalized by the withdrawal of the mind. On the other hand, suppression of sexual desire will attach you to it again and again, producing wet dreams, irritability and mental restlessness. So the mind should be purified first; then it is easy to control the senses. Strict control over the senses alone will lead to difficulties instead of spiritual progress.

The next tapas is austerity of speech. Speech should bring tranquility and be truthful, pleasant and beneficial. As the Vedic teaching goes, “Satyam bruvat priyam bruvat.” “Speak what is true, speak what is pleasant.” And one should not speak what is true if it is not pleasant, nor what is pleasant if it is false. If something is true and unpleasant, we should make it more pleasant by presenting it in a proper way. And mental austerity is described by Śrī Kṛṣṇa as serenity of mind, goodheartedness, self-control and purity of nature.

Next comes svādhyāya, or study. This means study that concerns the true Self, not merely analyzing the emotions and mind as the psychologists and psychiatrists do. Anything that will elevate your mind and remind you of your true Self should be studied: the Bhagavad Gītā, the Bible, the Koran, these Yoga Sūtras or any uplifting scripture. Study does not just mean passing over the pages. It means trying to understand every word— studying with the heart. The more often you read them, the more you understand. For thousands of years, so many people have been studying the Bible. Every day, thousands of people read this same book. On the other hand, we have millions and millions of books that, after we read them once, we throw away as trash. We don’t exhaust the Bible even after reading it hundreds of times. Each time we read it we see it in a new light. That is the greatness of the holy scriptures. They are that way because they were created by holy prophets who experienced the truth. Each time we read these works we elevate ourselves to see a little more.

It is something like going to the Empire State Building. When you look out of a first floor window you see something. From the second floor, you see a little more; from the third floor, still more. But when you finally reach the hundred and first floor and look over the balcony, you see something completely different.

Similarly, in reading the scriptures, we slowly rise up, expanding and enlarging the mind. The more we elevate the mind, the better our understanding is. But only when we become prophets ourselves will we fully understand the scriptures. That is nature’s law. If you want to understand me fully, you must become me. Otherwise, you can understand me only according to your own capacity. In the same way, God cannot be understood by books alone. God can only be understood when you become God. A Tamil proverb says, “Only a saint knows a saint. Only a snake knows the leg of another snake.” You cannot exactly understand how a snake crawls unless you become a snake. We can hear things, study, form our own opinions, use our imagination, but nothing can equal experience.

Many people simply become walking libraries. They have thousands of books recorded in their brains like computers, but that doesn’t mean they have actually experienced the Self. The Self cannot be known by theory alone. By merely thinking, no one has ever understood the One that is beyond the mind. Only when you transcend the mind can you understand it. This is where Yoga differs from most other psychological approaches. They usually believe you have to understand everything with the mind and that beyond it you cannot understand anything. They stop there, but Yoga claims there is a knowledge possible without the mind. All that you know through the mind is limited and conditioned. How is the limited mind to understand the Unlimited One? Only by transcending it and getting into the unlimited.

Study is all right—but not for mere logic, quoting or fighting. Actually, it is only when you “quote” from your own experience that your words have weight. Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa used to say, “Forget all you have learned; become a child again. Then it will be easy to realize that wisdom.” Sometimes, learning becomes an obstacle if you don’t know what and how much to learn. So, limit your reading and put into practice what you read. Just select one or two books—anything that will remind you of your goal.

The last part of Kriyā Yoga is simple but great. It is surrendering to the Supreme Being. I understand this to mean dedicating the fruits of your actions to God or to humanity—God in manifestation. Dedicate everything—your study, your japa, your practices—to God. When you offer such things, God accepts them but then gives them back many times magnified. You never lose what you have given. Even virtuous, meritorious deeds will bind you in some form or other if you do them with an egoistic feeling. Every time you do something, feel, “May this be dedicated to God.” If you constantly remember to do this, the mind will be free and tranquil. Try not to possess anything for yourself. Temporarily keep things but feel you are just a trustee, not an owner.

Be like the mother who receives a soul, nourishes it for nine months and then lets it come out into the world. If the mother were always to keep the baby in her womb, what would happen? There would be great pain. Once something has ripened, it should be passed on. So dedication is true Yoga. Say, “I am Thine. All is Thine. Thy will be done.” Mine binds; Thine liberates. If you drop “mines” all over, they will “undermine” your life—or blow up in your face. But if you change all the “mines” to Thines, you will always be safe.

Let us all dedicate our lives for the sake of the entire humanity. With every minute, every breath, every atom of our bodies we should repeat this mantra: “dedication, dedication, giving, giving, loving, loving.” That is the best japa, the best Yoga which will bring us all permanent peace and joy and keep the mind free from the disturbances of the citta vṛttis.

 Isvara (the Supreme Ruler) is a special Purusa, untouched by misery, the results of actions, or desires.

Vivekananda Commentary:

We must again remember that this Patanjali Yoga Philosophy is based upon that of the Sankhyas, only that in the latter there is no place for God, while with the Yogis God has a place. The Yogis, however, avoid many ideas about God, such as creating. God as the Creator of the Universe is not meant by the Isvara of the Yogis, although, according to the Vedas, Isvara is the Creator of the universe. Seeing that the universe is harmonious, it must be the manifestation of one will. The Yogis and Sankhyas both avoid the question of creation. The Yogis want to establish a God, but carefully avoid this question, they do not raise it at all. Yet you will find that they arrive at God in a peculiar fashion of their own. They say:

“ Now,” — This word here denotes undertaking. A text giving a revised critical teaching of Yoga is to be understood as having been undertaken.

Yoga is contemplation (Samadhi, trance), and it is a characteristic of the mind pervading all its planes. The planes of the mind are : —

Wandering (Ksipta) ; Forgetful (Mudha) ; Occasionally steady or distracted (Viksipta) ; One-pointed (Ekagra) ; and Restrained (Niruddha).

Of these the contemplation in the occasionally steady mind does not fall under the heading of Yoga, because of unsteadiness appearing in close sequence. That however, which in the one-pointed mind, fully shows forth an object existing as such in its most perfect form, removes the afflictions, loosens the bonds of karma and thus inclines it towards restraint, is said to be the Cognitive Trance <f?ainprajh6ta Samfidhi). And we shall explain further that this is accompanied by philosophical curiosity (vitarka), meditation (vichara), bliss (Amanda), and egoism (asmita).

When however all the modifications come under restraint, the trance is ultra-cognitive (Asamprajnata Samadhi).

~ Rāma Prasāda translation.

Yogasūtrabhāṣyavivaraṇa
or the Pātañjalayogaśāstravivaraṇa
by Śaṅkara

Patañjali Sūtra I.24

Untouched by taints or karma-s or their fruition or their latent stocks is the Lord, who is a special kind of Puruṣa

The taints are Ignorance, I-am-ness, desire, hate, and clinging to life. Karma-s are good and bad. Their fruition is the results they bring. The corresponding latent impulses (vāsanā) are the latent stocks. All these exist in the mind but are attributed to Puruṣa, for he is the experiencer of their results. It is as when victory or defeat, which are events on the battle-field, are attributed to the ruler. Untouched by such experience is the Lord, who is a special kind of Puruṣa.

Who is this Lord who is neither pradhāna nor Puruṣa? In the Sāṅkhya classics no proof of God is given, and one asks for some proof of the Lord, that he really exists, and again what is the special nature of this Lord who necessarily is not directly known. He gives the answer to these points in the sūtra, Untouched by taints or karma-s or their fruition or their latent stocks is the Lord, who is a special kind of Puruṣa.

Ignorance and the others are taints, because they cause defilement. They have been caused by previous karma-s, good and bad; this phrase good and bad implies that there are also some which are a mixture of good and bad. Their fruition is the experience of birth and life. These taints, karma-s, and fruitions lie latent (but dynamic) until they are absolutely dissolved and these are the latent stocks; the phrase can be taken to mean simply the whole mass of taints, karma-s, and fruitions.

They exist in the mind because they are mental processes (mano-vṛtti) but are attributed to Puruṣa. How so? He is the experiencer of their results. As victory and defeat, which are events of battles, are attributed to the king, because the result relates to the king.

Untouched by such experience is the Lord, who is a special kind of Puruṣa. No reference to tense is intended, because the implication is that he is not touched by it, nor will be touched by it, nor has been touched by it. The meaning is: never bound to taints of karma-s or their fruition or accumulation.

Is he then one of those who have attained their release? There are many who have done so. (No,) untouched by such experience is the Lord, who is a special kind of Puruṣa. Others have attained release by cutting the three bonds, but for the Lord such bondage never was nor will come to be, as it will for one who has absorbed his mind into prakṛti. But the Lord is ever freed, ever the Lord. His eternal perfection is from perfect sattva.

To clarify the meaning of the sūtra he says Is he then one of those who have attained their release? There are many who have done so. For it is possible that being untouched by taints and karma-s might be only for some particular time. There are many who have been released: are they too Lords? No, because of the potentiality of contact, they are not absolutely untouched by taints etc. For them, there are both contact (in the past) and freedom from contact (now), but the Lord is never touched. The word untouched is not of itself unrestricted as to time, and it must be applied by extension to cover all times. So he alone is here called untouched who is absolutely never touched.

The others attained release after cutting the three bonds. The three bonds are those of the unmanifest prakṛti, those of manifest principles, and those connected with sacrifices; having destroyed them by right vision (saṃyag-darśana) they attained release, but for the Lord, bondage, by taints and karma-s, never was. It is not as in the case of a released one, where previous bondage must have existed, just because he does come to attain a state of release. For release (mukti) is release from some previous bondage. nor will it come to be, as it will come to be for one who has absorbed his mind into prakṛti. For him, a future mass of bondage, of the saṃsāra which has not yet come into operation, is inevitable. Then the (ordinary) man whose saṃsāra has begun to operate already, and whose mind is not absorbed into prakṛti, is subject to both past and future masses of bondage. What we have said is to show that untouched has no reference to time. He is ever freed, ever the Lord.

It has been said in the sūtra that the Lord is a special Puruṣa. The Puruṣa of the Lord will have no character of divine power, because power pertains to the mind; transcendent (niratiśaya) power must be connected to a perfect (prakṛṣṭa) mind. He confirms this conclusion in order to lead on to what follows: That eternal perfection of the Lord is from his perfect sattva. The perfection is the possession of the powers of omniscience and omnipotence, eternal and transcendent.

This perfection – does it have a cause or is it without a cause? The cause is holy scripture. Then what is the cause of scripture? The cause is the perfection (of the divine mind).

To clarify what is being said, he begins with this question: is there any cause for it or is it causeless? The word nimitta means karaṇa (cause). So the point is, is it caused or uncaused? Now what is the object of the question?

(Opponent) If in the first place it is taken to have a cause, then it was illogical to say ever the Lord, because his perfection would not be eternal (if it had been caused). Again, if without a cause, it would follow that the perfection, which is an effect, would never come to exist at all. For no effect is ever found without a cause.

(Answer) It is not uncaused, because holy scripture is its cause. Scripture here means knowledge (jñāna); the perfection has a cause, because scripture is its cause. Scriptural knowledge is universal and eternal, and rests in a transcendent self-sufficient principle apart from ordinary postulates and proofs.

(Opponent) Knowledge has to be known by someone, and before that, it would have been imperfect. So what is the cause of scripture? If scriptural knowledge appears spontaneously (svābhāvika), it would be caused by imperfection like the ideas of a man drunk or mad (which arise suddenly from nowhere). But then again, if it has a cause, prior to the operation of that cause the scripture would have been defective.

(Answer) It is not causeless, in so far as it has perfection of sattva as its cause, which is to say that it rests on perfect sattva; and this is why there is no defect of knowledge spontaneously appearing (svābhāva jñānaassociated by the opponent with madness). Furthermore, even if it were (taken as) spontaneously appearing knowledge, it is not like the ideas of madmen, because it rests on sattva and so is always free from Ignorance and other taints. Just as there is a beginningless relation, like that of seed and sprout, between knowledge, saṃskāra, and memory, related as they are as mutually cause and effect, just so there is a beginningless and endless relation between scripture and his perfection in the mind of the Lord, a relation which is ever active. The perfection of the Lord is simply the effect of the omniscience which is its cause. There is an explanation by others, to the effect that the word nimitta (normally ‘cause’) here means ‘proof.’ Scripture is its cause would then mean that it is the proof of it, for the Lord’s perfection is proved by scripture. Then what proves scripture? The proof of it is the pure sattva of the Lord. For the authoritativeness of scripture is because it was composed out of pure sattva, as in the case of Manu and others. Thus scripture says, ‘Whatever Manu said is medicine’ (Taitt. Sam. 2.2.10.2). So in ordinary life, what is declared by a teacher is authoritative. Between those two – scripture and perfection – present in the divine sattva, there is a beginningless relation. Scripture and perfection are eternally related, as proof and proved.

(Opponent) But the scripture which is supposed to prove perfection is not now in the divine sattva.

(Answer) It is, because since the sattva produced it, scripture is still present in it. Scripture arose from it, but is still present in it, just because it is omniscient. In ordinary life we see that what originates from something is in fact still present in it, as a cloth is present in the threads that compose it. That scripture originates from the sattva is known from inference and authority. So the proof of the perfection is scripture, and the proof of scripture is the Lord; there is no fallacy of mutual dependence because they depend on different things.

(Opponent) If the authority of the Lord is based on scripture, but the scripture derives its own authority from the divine authority, then there would be the circle of mutual dependence.

(Answer) The authority of the Lord is established by inference, so there is no such fallacy.

Thus it is that he is ever and always the Lord and ever and always freed. That divine power of his is without any equal or superior.

Thus it is – how so? The relation, in the form of mutual cause and effect, between the divine repository of perfect sattva, and the perfection and transcendent knowledge, is eternal; because it is eternal, he is ever and always the Lord and ever and always freed. That Lordship is without any equal or superior. This is the conclusion of the proofs to be given now. Or again, it is a summing up of the sūtra. Now he explains how the power of the Lord is unsurpassed:

For to begin with, it is not surpassed by any other power, because whatever other power would surpass it, would be that itself

It is not surpassed by any other power. Why not? because whatever other power one might suppose would surpass it, would be that itself- the power which we are explaining, since whatever other surpassing power there is, that power is the Lord. There is no power equal to it, because perfection cannot be equalled.

Where the summit of power is attained, there is the Lord, and there can be no power equal to his. Why not? Suppose there were two equal Lords, and something which was the object of a wish by both, one of them wanting it to be new and the other wanting it to be old. Then if one succeeded, the other would be demeaned by frustration of his will. Nor could two equals possess the same thing at the same time, because that would be impossible. Therefore he who has power neither equalled nor surpassed, he alone is the Lord. And he is a special Puruṣa.

For there cannot be two kings in one kingdom, nor one king in two kingdoms. And so he explains, Suppose there were two equal Lords, then … one of them could not have his way without overriding the will of the other. If the two wanted the same thing, they could not both achieve it; there would be a battle for supremacy over the desired object. The fact of equality would be the very thing to destroy it.

And the conflict might be undeclared: an overt superiority on one side and a hidden superiority on the other are still in opposition. The point is that things which seem the same have relative superiorities (along with their apparent equality).

Therefore this Lord is one whose power has none to equal or surpass it, and it is established that the Lord is a special Puruṣa apart from pradhāna and Puruṣa-s.