Mantra 1

In plain words

O Indra, this physical form is truly mortal, bound entirely to the law of death. When you imagine that the luminous self of deep serenity, which I described to you, perishes utterly upon the dissolution of the body, listen to the true reason: this body that your eyes perceive is transient and perishable. It is perpetually caught and devoured by mortality. To call something merely 'mortal' does not strike the heart with terror; but to realize that it is ceaselessly swallowed, utterly permeated by death at every moment—that is why the text specifies 'seized by death,' designed precisely to awaken deep detachment. How else might one turn away, disenchanted from identification with the flesh? 'Body' here includes the mind and the senses. That very body belongs to the serene self, who in the three states is understood as immortal, utterly devoid of the mortal attributes of death, body, senses, and mind. Once his immortality is established, the text's further description of him as 'bodiless' serves simply to prevent any notion that he has parts or form like the wind. He is the witness's seat of experience, or the locus evolved through the elements of fire, water, and earth, wherein the Supreme Reality dwells, having entered as the individual soul. Anyone whose support is thus perpetually prey to death—born of past merit and demerit, entangled in the dualities of joy and sorrow—is considered embodied. To superimpose the self onto this, through the blinding lack of discrimination that whispers 'I am the body, the body alone is what I am,'—that is true embodiment. Because of this, the embodied person remains helplessly gripped by pleasant and painful experiences. This is universally known. But for one who is truly established in his incorporeal essence, those dualities—born of contact with external objects and claimed possessively as 'mine'—have no continuous destruction or termination, for they are rooted in delusion. When a person abandons body-identification through the direct realization of his bodiless nature, dissolving ignorance, those dualities of joy and grief touch him no longer. The verb 'touches' applies separately to each, forming two distinct statements: 'It does not touch the pleasant' and 'It does not touch the unpleasant,' just as the scriptural rule reads: 'One should not converse with the unrighteous, the impure, and the outcast.' Joy and sorrow are the mere fruits of merit and demerit; but your true nature is absolute bodilessness. Because virtue and vice have no footing in that pure essence, the very possibility of their effects is banished afar. Therefore, neither pleasure nor pain can ever touch you.

Close to the Sanskrit

O Maghavan, mortal indeed and subject to death is this body. When you think that the self characterized by the eye and serenity, as spoken by me, attains destruction, hear the reason therefor: This body which you see is indeed mortal and perishable. And it is seized and swallowed by death continuously. When it is said 'mortal', terror does not arise as much as when it is said 'swallowed always and pervaded by death'—hence the specification 'seized by death' is stated for the sake of detachment: How indeed might one, detached from body-identification, withdraw? The body here includes the senses and mind. That body of this serene one, who is understood in three states as immortal—devoid of the attributes of death, body, senses, and mind—once immortality is established, the further statement 'of the bodiless' is to prevent any notion of having parts or form like the wind; it is the abode of experience for the self, or the locus produced through the order of fire, water, etc., wherein the existent [Supreme] resides having entered in the form of the jiva. Whoever has this kind of support, constantly seized by death owing to being produced by merit and demerit, along with pleasant and unpleasant, is embodied. The attribution of selfhood to the bodiless nature of the self through non-discrimination—'I am this body, the body alone am I'—is embodiment. Hence being embodied, he is seized and swallowed by pleasant and unpleasant. This is well known. And for that embodied person, the destruction, eradication, and termination in the form of a continuity of the pleasant and unpleasant—which are caused by contact and separation with external objects and which he thinks are 'mine'—do not exist. Him, who is free from body-identification through the knowledge of his bodiless nature and has dispelled non-discrimination, existing as bodiless, the pleasant and unpleasant do not touch. The verb 'touches' connects separately with each, so there are two sentences: 'It does not touch the pleasant' and 'It does not touch the unpleasant,' just like 'One should not converse with mlecchas, the unclean, and the unrighteous.' For those are effects of merit and demerit; whereas bodilessness is the intrinsic nature, and since merit and demerit are impossible there, the absence of their effects is far away indeed; hence pleasant and unpleasant do not touch him.

In plain words

Here is the objection: if even what is dear cannot touch the bodiless self, then Indra's own worry comes back to haunt us—didn't he say that a person in deep sleep simply dissolves into nothing? If that's true there, it should be true here too. But it isn't a flaw. What is being denied is only the dear and the unpleasant that come from merit and wrongdoing, the pair that belongs to the body. The bodiless self isn't touched by that dear and undear—that's all the passage means. Notice how we actually use the word touch. We speak of the touch of cold, the touch of heat—things that come and go. But we never say fire touches its own heat and light, because those aren't visitors to fire; they are fire being fire. It's the same with bliss. Bliss—which is also the dear—isn't something denied to the self, any more than heat is denied to fire or light to the sun, because it is the self's own nature. That is exactly what scripture means when it says Brahman is consciousness and bliss, and bliss is Brahman. This very passage has already told us the same thing: the Infinite alone is happiness. Someone presses further: if the Infinite and the dear are truly one, then either it can never be known as an object, or it is always self-evident—either way, there is no room left for distinction. Surely that isn't what Indra wanted, since he complained: 'This one, right now, doesn't know the self as "I am this," and doesn't know these beings either—he's dissolved into nothing, and I see nothing worth having in that.' True—that was exactly what Indra wanted: a knowing that lets a person recognize both the world and the self, that leaves nothing unpleasant unknown, and that wins every world and every desire. Yes, that is what Indra desired. He wanted to say: these beings are other than me, these worlds and desires are all other than me, and I am their master. But that isn't actually good for him. What is truly good for Indra is what Prajāpati has to teach: not the gain of a king who rules a kingdom that stays outside him, but the attainment that comes from realizing—bodiless, like space—that he himself is the very self of every being, every world, every desire. That is what Prajāpati means to give him. And once that is seen, the old question collapses: in the oneness of the self, who could know what, by means of what, when 'I am these beings' is simply true? But then, someone asks, don't the scriptures that speak of the liberated self's power—enjoying with women or with chariots, reaching the world of the ancestors at will, becoming many at once—fall apart on this view? No. There's no contradiction in the one self of all being connected to every kind of result, any more than there's a contradiction in one lump of clay being present in every pot, jar, and bowl shaped from it. But then wouldn't the self also be bound up with suffering, since it is the self of everything? No—because suffering, too, is accepted as belonging to the self only in that same borrowed way. Sufferings arise from ignorance imagining them onto the self, exactly as fear arises from imagining a snake onto a rope. And once that ignorance is cut through by seeing the true, bodiless oneness of the self, there is no longer even room to worry about being bound to suffering. Desires of another kind—the ones born of the Lord's own pure will—live in every being's mind, and find their fulfillment through the Lord's own presence. But behind every one of these apparent enjoyers, it is the Supreme alone who enjoys, working through the many masks that beings wear. So every transaction that ignorance has ever staged—every joy, every sorrow, every sense of I and mine—rests finally on one and the same ground: the Supreme Self, and nothing else. This is the settled teaching of Vedānta.

Close to the Sanskrit

Objection: If even the dear does not touch the bodiless [self], then what was stated by Maghavan—that one abiding in deep sleep becomes merged into mere destruction—that same [conclusion] has arrived here too. This is not a fault, because what is intended to be negated is the pair dear-and-undear that are results of merit and demerit, connected with the body—meaning: the bodiless does not touch the dear and undear in that body-bound sense. For the word 'touch' is seen used of what comes and goes, as in 'the touch of cold,' 'the touch of heat'—but it is not that there is a 'touch by fire' with respect to heat and light, which are fire's own nature. Likewise, there is no negation here of bliss—which is also the dear—as the very nature [of the self], just as heat and light are of fire or the sun, on account of scriptures beginning with 'Brahman is consciousness and bliss' and 'bliss is Brahman.' Here too, because it has been said that the Infinite alone is happiness. Objection: In the oneness of the Infinite, which is the dear, since it is unknowable [as an object], or, since by its own nature it is eternally known, there would be a state without distinction—and that was not what Indra desired, for he said: 'Indeed, this one does not now know the self, thinking "I am this," nor does he know these beings; he becomes one merged into mere destruction; I see no enjoyment here.' That indeed was what Indra desired: that by which knowledge one knows both the beings and the self, and knows nothing unpleasant, and by which one obtains all worlds and all desires. True, this is what Indra desired—namely: these beings are other than me, the worlds and desires are all other than me, I am their lord. But this is not beneficial for Indra. What is beneficial for Indra is what is to be taught by Prajāpati. The attainment that comes through arriving at being the self of all beings, worlds, and desires, by being bodiless like space—that is what Prajāpati intended to teach as beneficial for Indra, not [attainment] like a king's attainment of a kingdom, through otherness. There, this being so, in the oneness of the self, who would know what by what, when [one thinks] 'I am these beings'? Objection: On this view, the scriptures of lordship beginning with 'with women or with chariots,' 'if he desires the world of the fathers,' 'he becomes manifold,' become untenable. No—because there is no contradiction, since it is established that the self of all can be connected with every result, just as clay [is present] in all pots, jars, and basins. Objection: If the self is the self of all, then connection with suffering too would follow. No—because it is likewise accepted that suffering too [belongs to the self only in that same apparent way]. Sufferings have their cause in the imagining of ignorance upon the self, just as [fears] have their cause in the imagining of a snake, etc., upon a rope. And that ignorance, the cause of suffering, is destroyed by the vision of the true nature of the bodiless self's oneness; therefore the apprehension of connection with suffering is not possible. But desires whose cause is the resolve of pure being—these, being mental, present in all beings, have their connection through the body of the Lord. It is the Supreme alone who is the enjoyer through the medium of the limiting adjuncts of all beings; therefore, of all the transactions brought about by ignorance, the Supreme alone, the Self, is the substratum; there is no other. This is the settled doctrine of Vedānta.

In plain words

If the person seen within the eye were merely the shadow-self, the teacher would have had to explain how to discard that interpretation, just as he would need to account for the states of dream and deep sleep. Yet no such correction is given. We therefore conclude that Prajapati did not teach the shadow-self as the ultimate reality in the eye. Moreover, if the seer within the eye were designated simply as an object of sight, the subsequent teaching addressed directly to you—'This is indeed yours'—would not consistently point to the inner seer even in the dream state. To argue that the seer is absent in dreams is refuted by the text's own descriptions: 'he weeps as it were,' and 'he experiences unpleasantness as it were.' No other witness roams the dream state, for another scripture establishes through clear reasoning that 'here this person is self-luminous.' Even though the self is associated with the intellect during a dream, the intellect does not function as an independent instrument for generating dream experiences. Rather, like a picture painted on cloth, the mind simply reflects latent impressions from the waking state, leaving the self-luminous nature of the true seer entirely intact. Furthermore, in both waking and dreaming states, a person clearly recognizes external beings and the self, knowing 'I am this.' Where such ordinary identification is already present, a negation such as 'not this, not this' makes sense. Similarly, the text first declares that embodiment caused by ignorance leaves one subject to pleasant and unpleasant experiences; it then appropriately denies those very dualities to the unembodied self, stating, 'Bodiless indeed, pleasant and unpleasant do not touch him.'

Close to the Sanskrit

If the statement 'the person who is seen in the eye' refers to the shadow-person alone, then a reason for the removal of [that interpretation] should be stated. He should also state himself the reason for its removal in the grasping of the dream and deep sleep states. And that has not been stated. Therefore we think the shadow-self is not taught by Prajapati in the eye. Furthermore, if the seer in the eye were taught as 'is seen', then this is apt: saying 'this indeed of you', the instruction is of the seer alone even in dream. If it is said the seer is not taught in dream, no, because of the instruction 'weeps as it were', 'experiences unpleasant things as if'. And no other seer besides roams about in dream, since it is established in another Śruti from reasoning: 'here this person is self-luminous'. Although in dream he is associated with the intellect, nevertheless the intellect does not attain the status of being an instrument towards the perception of dream-enjoyment. What then? Like a painted cloth, the intellect is merely an object seen resting on waking impressions, so the self-luminousness of the seer is not sublated. What else? In waking and dream he knows beings and the self—'I am this being, I am this'. When attainment is present, prohibition is proper—'not indeed this I', etc. Similarly, having stated that for the conscious being alone, when embodied, there is no warding off of the pleasant and unpleasant, the prohibition of them when they arise upon embodiment for that very unembodied one is proper: 'bodiless indeed being him, pleasant and unpleasant do not touch'.

In plain words

That the single Self moves through the waking and dream states completely unattached, like a great fish gliding through water, is established in other sacred texts. The claim that the soul in deep sleep rises from the body, revels with companions, and is something distinct from the supreme person designated in the text is likewise false. For in the fourth section, Prajapati tells Indra 'This alone I declare to you'; if a different entity were meant, he would not repeat those exact words without falsehood. Moreover, after showing how the creator of the elements enters into the very body he produced, teaching him 'Thou art that' would be meaningless if the soul were something separate from the supreme. If a different entity were intended, the instruction would have told him he would simply enjoy worldly pleasures in that state. Similarly, in the teaching on the Infinite, after declaring 'I alone am all this,' the text would not conclude with 'All this is verily the Self' if the Infinite were separate from the individual soul, as other passages confirm by stating 'There is no other seer than this.' Across all scriptures, the term 'Self' would never be applied to the supreme if the inner self were not the true self of all beings. Therefore, it is established that the sole Atman is the ultimate subject of the teaching.

Transmigratory existence does not belong to the Self, because saṃsāra is merely superimposed upon the Atman through ignorance. Just as an illusory snake, silver, or stain projected onto a rope, a shell, or space do not actually belong to those objects, worldly suffering does not belong to the Self. In the same way, embodied beings wander ceaselessly through cycles of birth, not to mention other petty creatures devoid of discrimination whose minds are naturally captured by external objects. Therefore, this work has been composed in four sections by venerable paramahaṃsa renunciates who have abandoned all worldly desires, who rely on no refuge other than Brahman, who are devoted to the realization of Vedanta, and who follow this unbroken lineage originating from Prajapati. Thus they instruct even to this day: 'They alone, and no others.'

Close to the Sanskrit

And that the one Self moves about unattached like a great fish in the dream and waking states is established in another Vedic text. And what was said—that the deep-sleep soul having risen up from the body, revelling with women and others, becomes different from the deep-sleep state and is the highest person indicated by the topic—that also is untruth. Because in the fourth section also, from the statement 'This indeed I declare to thee,' if another were intended than that, Prajapati would not speak falsely 'This indeed I declare to thee' as before. Furthermore, having shown the entry of the creator of fire, water, food, and others by himself into the peak of his own modified body, the instruction subsequently given to the one who has entered—'Thou art that'—would result in being false. If the supreme person were other than the deep-sleep soul, the instruction would have been appropriate thus: 'In that state thou shalt be an enjoyer with women and others.' Similarly, in the teaching of the Infinite, having instructed 'I alone am this,' he would not have concluded with 'All this is verily the Self,' if the Infinite were other than the jīva, and also on account of other scriptural passages such as 'There is no other seer than this.' And in all scriptures the application of the term 'Self' to the supreme would not exist if the inner self were not the supreme self of all creatures. Therefore, it is established that the sole Self is the subject matter under discussion.

Nor does transmigratory existence belong to the Atman, because saṃsāra is superimposed upon the Atman through nescience. For illusory entities like a snake, silver, dirt, and darkness superimposed on a rope, mother-of-pearl, and space do not belong to those objects. By this reasoning, those who possess bodies wander ceaselessly through various modes of birth; what about other petty creatures destitute of discrimination, whose minds are naturally snatched away by external objects? Therefore, this has been composed in four sections by venerable paramahaṃsa wanderers who have renounced all external desires, who have taken refuge exclusively in Brahman, who are intent upon the direct knowledge of Vedanta, and who follow this tradition originating from Prajapati. Thus they instruct even today: 'They alone, and no others.'