A humble Critique of Indic Darshana-s

 Critique of Indic Darshana-s 

Yes — any explanation of pāramārthika and vyāvahārika inevitably admits the existence of two distinct states. 

So Advaita is not, as it is popularly understood, the assertion of absolute non-duality. 
It presumes a duality of operation — a higher and a lower plane — and on that very premise all its later conclusions are built. Like every other philosophy, Advaita too has its foundational flaw: the presumption itself.  

Sāṅkhya falters in its division of prakṛti and puruṣa. 
If in samādhi the puruṣa remains calm and supreme, how and why does prakṛti manage to drag the mind back into the mundane world? 
And truly, no one can remain in samādhi for long — except in death. 

Yoga errs in the opposite direction — in its attempt to over-discipline the mind into a single-pointed fixation. 

Its claims of miraculous siddhis arising merely from concentration border on the absurd. 

Vaiśeṣika is a mathematical obsession with categories and numbers — an intellectual taxonomy without soul. 

Naiyāyika logic, derived from Vaiśeṣika, remains trapped in the mechanics of deduction. 
But deduction alone never reveals truth; some spark of intuition, some eureka — the anubhava — is always necessary.  

Mīmāṃsā is a valiant but futile effort to justify obsolete ritualism through intricate theories of karma.  If karma truly ensures cosmic justice, why then do we require human courts and punishment? 

Tattvavāda of Madhva leans heavily upon theology, bordering on monotheism.  It cannot explain why the lover should wish to remain eternally separate from the Beloved. It rests too much on Purāṇic authority, favouring Viṣṇu and Kṛṣṇa while overlooking that other Purāṇas glorify Śiva and Devī in equal measure. Indeed, Viṣṇu is scarcely prominent in the Vedas — Indra, Agni, and Soma shine far more vividly there. 

Śaṅkara’s Advaita, as mentioned, fails to explain how the One became many if the One alone is real. If all multiplicity is an illusion, to whom does that illusion appear?  And can illusion truly be identical with the perceiver? When questioned on divine justice, Advaita (like most Indic systems) invokes the doctrine of karma — God does not intervene; the pāpa and puṇya of jīvas play themselves out. 

But I have deep reservations about such passive karma-theory — its moral inertia, its easy abdication of responsibility. 

Buddhism, in its idealist and often solipsistic turn, leaves the same gap — if all existence is suffering and cyclic, what sustains the cycle? 

Jainism relies on the cleverness of its syādvāda, its fourfold logic —  
but how can anything simultaneously exist and not exist, be true and untrue, both and neither, if truth is to mean anything at all? 

And Cārvāka, the loud rebel, is mere materialism — a faith in matter masquerading as realism. 
It proclaims no profound siddhānta, only the obvious: that what is seen is real, and what is unseen is not.  That too, perhaps, is its illusion. 

A lullaby of wisdom

  Madalasa’s lullaby

Hearing a lullaby is enjoyable to both babies and oldies. The very ambiance before drifting off to sleep determines the quality of sleep. Why not make it spiritual? As we start on this journey, let us first rest well, with a big glass of lukewarm milk in a mildly lit room. The very claim of Advaita is “You are That” . 

  

शुद्धोsसि बुद्धोsसि निरंजनोsसि 

संसार माया परिवर्जितोsसि

संसार स्वप्नं त्यज मोहनिद्रां 

मदालसोल्लापम् उवाच पुत्रम् ।।१ 

“You are pure, you are awake, you are untainted. The bondage of saṃsāra is only an illusion. Give up this dream-like delusion,” sang Madalasa — her lullaby to her son. 

शुद्धोसि रे तात न तेsस्ति जन्म 

कृतं हि तत् कल्पनयाधुनैव । 

पञ्चात्मकं देहम् इदं न तेsस्ति 

नैवास्य त्वं रोदिषि कस्य हेतोः ।।२ 

“O dear one, you are pure; you have no birth. All this is merely imagined here and now. This body of five elements — earth, water, fire, air, and space — is not yours, nor are you the body’s. Why weep over it? For whom do you weep?” 

न वा भवान् रोदिति विश्वजन्मा 

शब्दोsयम् आसाद्य महीशसूनुम् 

विकल्प्यमानैर् विविधैर् गुणैस् ते 

गुणाश् च भौताः सकलेन्द्रियेषु ।।३ 

“Do not cry at the mere sound of a name given to a prince — ‘Viśvajanma’. The sense-experiences — sounds, sights, touches, tastes, smells — are but fleeting modifications of guṇas (sattva, rajas, tamas) in the inner instrument, and of the bhūtas (the five elements).” 

भूतानि भूतैः परिदुर्बलानि 

वृद्धिं समायाति यथेह पुंसः 

अन्नाम्बुपानादिभिर् एव तस्मात् 

न तेsस्ति वृद्धिर् न च तेsस्ति हानिः ।।४ 

“Elements gather to form things and disperse to dissolve them. So is it with the human being — nourished by food, water, and breath, growing and decaying in time. But you, O Self, neither gain nor lose.” 

त्वं कञ्चुके शीर्यमाणे निजेsस्मिन् 

तस्मिन् देहे मूढतां मा व्रजेथाः 

शुभाशुभैः कर्मभिर् देहम् एतत् 

मृदादिभिः कञ्चुकस् ते पिनद्धः ।।५ 

“Do not fall into folly by mistaking yourself for a fraying jacket — this body. It is only the fruits of karma — auspicious and inauspicious — that bind you to this soiled garment.” 

तातेति किञ्चित् तनयेति किञ्चित् 

अम्बेति किञ्चित् दयितेति किञ्चित् 

ममेति किञ्चित् न ममेति किञ्चित् 

त्वं भूतसङ्घं बहु मा मनेथाः ।।६ 

“Now a father, now a son; now a mother, now a beloved — ‘mine’ one moment, ‘not mine’ the next. Do not over-identify with this assemblage of elements.” 

सुखानि दुःखोप शमाय भोगान् 

सुखाय जानाति विमूढचेताः 

तान्येव दुःखानि पुनः सुखानि 

जानाति विद्वान् अविमूढचेताः ।। ७ 

“The deluded think pleasures relieve pain and that suffering is the absence of pleasure; the wise see how pleasures turn to pain and pains become the ground of deeper peace.” 

यानं क्षितौ तत्र गतश् च देहो 

देहेsपि चान्यः पुरुषो निविष्टः 

ममत्वम् उर्व्यां न यथा तथास्मिन् 

देहेsतिमात्रं बत मूढतैषा ।।८ 

“As the earth bears the chariot yet remains unbound by it, so too the body bears the puruṣa seated within, and neither is the other’s. To cling to the body — this is folly indeed.” 

 Trishanku’s outbursts 

अ॒हं वृ॒क्षस्य॒ रेरि॑वा । की॒र्तिः पृ॒ष्ठं गि॒रेरि॑व । 

ऊ॒र्ध्वप॑वित्रो वा॒जिनी॑व स्व॒मृत॑मस्मि । 

द्रवि॑ण ꣳ सवर्चसम् । सुमेध अ॑मृतो॒क्षितः । 

इति त्रिशङ्कोर्वेदा॑नुव॒चनम् ॥ 

                                    इति दशमोऽनुवाकः ॥ Taittiriya Upaniṣad Shikshavalli 

“I am the trunk — the very axis of the cosmic tree. 
Behind Kīrti (fame, the scattering of name and sound), it is I who stand, unseen. 
My glory rises higher than the mountains; 
I am established at the zenith — radiant, pure, 
blazing like the sun of consciousness from the vast sky of emptiness. 

I am the fullness of immortality (amṛtatva). 
All this — wealth, splendour, intellect, brilliance —  
are but scattered drops from that ocean of nectar which I am. Thus spoke Triśaṅku, in the hush of realization — words not of pride, but of awakening.” 
Triśaṅku’s declaration is not self-praise; it is ātma-pratyabhijñā — the recognition of Self as the whole. 
The “I” that once clung to body and fame now merges with the cosmic current — becoming both root and crown of existence itself.