བདེན་ཚིག།

This entry is dedicated to Vanessa. I feel a bit shy to discuss such issues on fb and so I prefer to be here in my own world and to invite a few interested people like yourself. (a) Actually bden pa’i tshig (or bden tshig) does not render praṇidhāna or praṇidhi, which are rather translated as smon lam. We can debate as to how  to render smon lam in English. I personally think smon lam is a kind of “resolve,” or, “resolution” and contextually one may render it as “aspirational wish.” The verb smom lam ’debs pa would be “to make a resolve,” “to make a resolution,” or “to make an aspirational wish.” We can thus understand why bodhicittotpāda (byang chub tu sems bskyed pa), particularly, the first or initial bodhicittotpāda is identified as praṇidhi (Wangchuk 2007). By the way, Tibetan scholars such as Klong-chen-pa would insist on making a distinction between smon lam and bsngo ba (translated by Seyfort Ruegg as “dedicatory transfer”). (b) In Vanessa’s context, it seems bden pa’i tshig or bden tshig is rather satyavacana/satyavākya (Negi, s.v. bden pa’i tshig; BHSD, s.v.). Interestingly in PW and MW, we find satyakriyā and I have been trying to find a Tibetan translation but to no avail. Edgerton suspects that it is a modern Sanskritization of Pāli saccakiriyā, which is indeed = saccavacana (Pāli) = satyavacana (Skt.) = bden pa’i tshig (or bden tshig). I think Edgerton’s translation “statement of solemn truth” is not bad at all. There is no doubt that Indians (or Buddhists) believed in the power of the “truth” or “statements of truth” and that it can work miracles or change the reality. Most suitable in this context is the Tibetan verb bden pa bdar ba “to solemnly articulate a statement of truth” (cf. dmod pa bor/’dor/btsug pa “to articulate a solemn statement of curse”). Just think of the formalized text: sangs rgyas kyi bka’ bden pa dang and so on. Finally and importantly “solemn statements of truth” can be made use of “to let the aspirational wishes come true.”

འཇམ་དབྱངས་ཞལ་ལྔ་པ།

I am neither an art historian nor a specialist of Buddhist or any other iconography. One of the reasons I never managed to get interested in art history is the (perceived) type of Fragestellung itself. While the questions related to provenance, materiality, artistic style, and so on, are certainly important, the attempts at explaining the significance or the iconography of a piece seems often unsatisfactorily because it is often not backed up textual sources. Apologies, I just googled up this image and pasted it here, purely for discussion and I have no interest in the statue as such. So the owner of the statue and the image may not be concerned that I might misuse it in any way.

It is described as the “four-headed” Mañjuśrī. But actually it seems that the image represents a “five-faced” (zhal lnga pa) Mañjuśrī. The face at the back should be considered not visible when viewed from the front. Should there then be not five pairs of hands? Our textual source explicitly mentions of only four pairs of hands. Perhaps, the central head is not supposed to have a corresponding pair of hands. Rong-zom-pa’s commentary on the Mañjuśrīnāmasaṃgīti states (RZ1: 273–274): de’i thugs kar yi ge dhīḥ las bskyed pa’i ’jam dpal dang po’i sangs rgyas zhal lnga gtsug phud lnga dang ldan pa kha dog lnga dang ldan pa ste | shar sngon po | lho ser po | nub dmar po | byang ljang gu | dbu’i steng na gnas pa’i zhal zhi ba dkar po byis pa’i rgyan gyis brgyan pa | ’jo sgeg dang ldan pa | sna tshogs kyi na bza’ bnabs pa | phyag brgyad pa | bzhi na shes rab kyi pha rol tu phyin pa stong phrag brgya pa glegs bam bzhir bgos te thugs kar ’dzin pa | gzhan gyis shes rab kyi ral gri ’dzin pa bsgom par bya’o ||. May be we should look for a coloured image.

(From Qing Dynasty): Correctly stated as five-headed Mañjuśrī. 

གོ་ཆུ་རུབ།

Rong-zom-pa (RZ1: 157) uses an usual expression go chu rub (within a syntactical structure): “X dang Y go chu rub yin pas ’gal ba med do ||.” Contextually it seems to mean something like: “Because either X or Y would serve the purpose of both, there is no contradiction.” I searched in the TBRC and found a single following instance: dus dang dus ma yin pa dang go chu rub kyi dngos po ston pa (and with some slight variations). I did not study the context but here too, it seems to have the meaning of: “showing X, Y, and Z that would serve the purpose [of both X and Y].” It is just a feeling. Perhaps go here is the same kind of go as in go chod pa, und rub might mean “collectively.” And chu? Simply a variant of chod?

As kindly pointed out by Thierry (see below), the expression is recorded in OTTO (http://otdo.aa.tufs.ac.jp/search/kwic.cgi). As for the orthography cu for chu, we can afford to be quite tolerant for texts of this kind, and simply treat them to be interchangeable without affecting the meaning (e.g. dkon mchog and dkon cog). 

Consider the following occurrences (OTTO): 
1. rtse rje chungu dang mngan go cu rub ||
2. rtse rje chung ngu dang dgra blon go cu rub ||
3. rtse rje blon dang khrī dpon go cu rub ||

Without venturing to speculate on the individual words, what becomes clear from these instances is the structure: “X dang Y go cu/chu rub” = (probably) “X and Y are mutually representative of each other” or “X and Y are in equal terms.”    

དྲན་པ་། རྗེས་སུ་དྲན་པ།

A Buddhist Theory of Anamnesis?

One may say it is needless and reckless to bring up etic words such as Greek anamnēsis (“remembrance”) to theorize emic Buddhist concepts. It maybe, but as a Buddhist theorist or a theoretician rather than a practician (by the way, this word is attested), I succumb to my temptation to do so. I believe, I have my personal reasons for doing so. Whatever and whenever I write or express anything abstract or philosophical, I can only try to do so in my acquired language, and never in my mother tongue. (My mother tongue, by the way, is not Tibetan or rDzong-kha. People who speak the language call their own language Tshangs-lha. There is no Tshang-lha script and Tshang-lha-medium schools.) Some would pity me. Oh, how sad, it must be terrible not to be able to express thoughts or things in his one’s own mother tongue! I have certainly disadvantages but never feel disadvantaged. If I knew and if I could, I would have learnt any language that I believe could help me express complex ideas in a possibly precise, nuanced, and pregnant manner. So long as I believe that a term can best capture or express a Buddhist idea, I would not, as a principle, refrain from using any word, be it etic or emic. Of course, care should be taken to avoid using terms that bring along wrong connotations and associations, which, I believe can be precluded by clearly defining the terms that one uses. In the end, terms and languages are mere conventions, and are like the proverbial finger that points to the moon.

I learn that the term “anamnesis” is used in Christianity, philosophy, and medicine, and in each case it seems to have a distinct meaning or usage. Now I propose to use it in the Buddhist philosophical context. For doing this, I will take its literal meaning “remembrance” as the point of departure. By “Buddhist anamnesis,” I wish to express the Buddhist idea of anusmṛti (rjes su dran pa) of which there seems to several kinds (usually six) and the idea of dhāraṇī. A proper understanding of the history and philosophy of anusmṛti and dhāraṇī might—and just might—help us to understand not only a piece of the history of Buddhism itself but also about a piece of the philosophy of Buddhism. I do not wish to delve into the role of the idea of buddhānusmṛti in the development of Buddhism, which I, believe is, more known. The role of the idea of vidyā (“cognitive formula”), mantra (“protective formula”) and dhāraṇī (“recollective formula”) is also being increasingly recognized.

What is perhaps hardly known is the idea that the dhāraṇīs (like the bodhisattvabhūmis and pāramitās) are also regarded as the “great mothers” or “great feminine consorts” (yum chen mo) of buddhas (RZ2: 492): “These are yum (i.e. “mothers” and “female consorts”) because they procreate buddhas and engage [in/with them]” (de nyid sangs rgyas rnams bskyed pa dang spyod pas yum mo). Buddhists may often be confounded to see or know that Mahāyāna Buddhism, be it in its Mantric or non-Mantric form, is riddled (or some might even think “infested”) with depictions of all kinds of male and female deities; some that look pleasing and pacifying whereas others that appear unpleasing and terrifying. We cannot deny this fact. But how do we explain these phenomena? Proposing them to be historical figures like the historical Buddha himself would be as ludicrous as denying them together as foreign elements that complacent Mahāyānists incorporated into Buddhism and hence as having nothing to do Buddhism at all. I personally believe that we—again regardless of whether we see such developments as desirable or as aberration (Fehlentwicklung)—could offer a historically plausible explanation. For example, it would be difficult, if not impossible to defend that a historical person Mañjuśrī and Mahākāla lived in a certain period and in a certain place. In what place and in what century should they have lived (if they lived)? Were they Indians, Tibetans, Chinese, or Central Asians? The idea of Mañjuśrī, for example, I think, can certainly be traced. This is not just a position of a hypercritical and hypocritical (and what some might think self-serving) academician. I recall mKhan-po ’Jigs-med-phun-tshogs once telling us: “If you think Mañjuśrī is a person eternally holding a sword and utpala, you have missed the point.” Mañjuśrī is to be understood, so to speak, as an icon, a representation or crystallization, or, an iconic figure that stands for the embodiment of the insights (or cognitive aspects) of all buddhas and bodhisattvas (or if you will simply all beings).

Thus far I have believed that only the “perfection of insight” (prajñāpāramitā: shes rab kyi pha rol tu phyi pa) has been depicted as the “Great Mother” (Yum-chen-mo). But all ten pāramitās and bhūmis, a host of other feminine nouns which express central Mahāyāna concepts have been considered as “great mothers” and as “goddesses” (RZ2: 491–492). What seems to be desideratum, in my view, is to take all possible items/topics/categories (and subcategories) found in the Abhidharmic literature and see how these very items have been described in Prajñāpāmitā literature and then study how and with what/which (female or male) deity each item has been identified. As far as I can see, the five Tathāgatas, the eight Bodhisattvas, and all the female and male deities we see in Mantric literature are explained as the pure nature or purity of a particular phenomenon included in the phenomena of ground (gzhi)—five skandhas, twelve āyatanas, eighteen dhātus—and of the path (lam) including 37 bodhyaṅgas. I don’t know if this theory has ever been proposed by anyone thus far but I speculate that grammatical gender of a word that expresses a certain topic could have opened up the possibility for the eventual personification and deitification of all phenomena. Rong-zom-pa  (RZ2: 491–492) seems to suggest that one of the reasons why most of the phenomena have been considered “goddesses” (lha mo) and “mothers or consorts” (yum) is their female grammatical gender (mo’i rtags). The fact the upāya is grammatically masculine seems to have provided a possibility for one to call it “father” (and not “mother”) and the feminine grammatical gender of prajñā seems to have provided one with a possibility to call it “mother” (and not “father”). One feels that in a language where there is no grammatical gender, such a creative development would not have taken place, at least not so conveniently or readily. The grammatical gender or sex by itself and already seems to imply personification. That is, grammatically, prajñāpāramitā can only be a “she,” which is de facto a “female person.” It is said that one cannot become a buddha without prajñāpāramitā; prajñāpāramitā is said to procreate a buddha and thus she is said to be a “mother.” She is an extraordinary “mother” who procreates supernal awakened beings. The elements of femininity and divinity seem to merge into one in this way. So we see Prajñāpāramitā depicted as a female deity. No one, not even the tradition, would take the deity Prajñāpāramitā as a historical person allocable to a certain time and place. And this, in my view, is crucial for understanding the entire of world of Sūtric and Mantric Buddhism filled with various types of deities.

Now returning to “Buddhist Anamnesis,” some of the key terms and concepts that need to be explored are of anusmṛti (rjes su dran pa) and smṛti (dran pa). The six anusmṛtis as recorded, for example, in the Mahāvyutpatti, are buddhānusmṛti, dharmānusmṛti, saṃghānusmṛti, śīlānusmṛti, tyāgānusmṛti, and devatānusmṛti. Instead of śīlānusmṛti, Rong-zom-pa has ānāpānānusmṛti (Wangchuk 2007: 302). “Not forgetting bodhicitta” (bodhicittāsaṃpramoṣa), too, is important. From a viewpoint of axiology and epistemology, I think that although “recollection” or “remembrance” would be seen as instrumentally valid and valuable, but epistemically be considered invalid. That is, dran pa cannot be a tshad ma and it is not a tshad ma! From a viewpoint of psychology, dran pa would essentially be considered a wholesome mental factor (kuśala: dge ba), and depending on the stage of its development, it would it is one of the five faculties (dbang po lha) or five kinds of strength (stobs lnga). It can be defiled (zag pa dang bcas pa) as in my case or undefiled in the case of a bodhisattva on the second bhūmi, for instance. From a standpoint of ontology, how far can dran pa subsist? According to those who maintain that a buddha is nothing but purified dharmadhātu, dran pa, which is a cognitive element, would cease when its cause and conditions ultimately cease at the stage of a buddha.

As for dhāraṇī (gzungs or gzungs ma), we can find the concept of it in both Sūtric and Mantric forms of Buddhism. It may be translated as “mnemonic formula.” In contrast to mantra—which may be rendered as “magical formula” or perhaps better as “protective formula,” particularly considering its speculative etymology shes skyob “that which protects the mind”—and vidyā (rig sngags or rig ma), which may be translated as “cognitive formula,” dhāraṇī is a “recollective formula” or “retentive formula.” Just as a mathematical or chemical formula captures, encapsulates, expresses, and retains a great deal of information in just a few letters or numbers, so does dhāraṇī seems to be conceived of as a formula that captures, encapsulates, expresses, and retains a great deal of information about Buddhist theories and practice. One can easily understand how and why it can be maintained to carry out to play the role of the Buddha or a buddha and his activities in the world. In a way, it is as though dhāraṇī were a kind of chip or “memory card” that conserves, preserves, and reserves crucial information about the Buddhist doctrine for the present and future generations. Just as a mathematical or chemical formula might appear to a lay person nonsensical, gibberish, or, unintelligible, if we do not understand its nature, function, history, and philosophy, dhāraṇī might appear to be nonsensical, gibberish, or, unintelligible. But worth bearing in mind is not everything that appears to be hocus-pocus must necessarily be hocus-pocus. Again we may not believe in the actual efficacy of dhāraṇī but the question that we have to ask is whether we really understand the idea of/behind dhāraṇī.

In Mantric Buddhism, dhāraṇī came to be called a “Great Mother” (yum chen mo), “a goddess” (lha mo), or “a female consort” (yum or gzungs ma). It is perhaps only too apt to identify and personify dhāraṇī as a female principle or female person. With all due respect to the “male principles” and “male persons” (and with all possible exceptions), one does seem to get an impression in real life that “female elements/persons” tend to be more “protective,” “retentive,” and “attentive” of whatever or whoever is entrusted to them. In this connection, I find the idea of entrusting (a Tantric scripture) to a woman (bud med la yongs su gtad pa) seems to be very interesting. If I were Vajradhara and if I had a choice to entrust my tantra to a man or a woman, I, too, would chose to entrust it to the latter. Fellow men, I mean no offence to you! There would be no guarantee, of course, but the chances that my tantra will be protected and thus survives a little longer is perhaps a bit greater!

ཕ་རྒྱུད། མ་རྒྱུད།

The terms pitṛtantra (for Tibetan pha’i rgyud or pha rgyud) and mātṛtantra (for Tibetan ma’i rgyud or ma rgyud) are, in my view, ghosts words. This, however, does not mean that also Tibetan pha’i/ma’i rgyud or pha/ma rgyud are ghost words. The Tibetan pha’i rgyud or pha rgyud is an abbreviated or elliptical expression for rnal ’byor pha’i rgyud and is actually a rendering of yogatantra. The Tibetan ma’i rgyud or ma rgyud is an abbreviated or elliptical expression for rnal ’byor ma’i rgyud and is actually a rendering of yoginītantra. In Tibetan it would be quite legitimate to translate yogatantra as rnal ’byor pha’i rgyud and yoginītantra as rnal ’byor ma’i rgyud especially when there is a need to distinguish them, just as it is quite common to render bhikṣuvibhaṅga and bhikṣuṇīvibhaṅga as dge slong pha’i rnam and dge slong ma’i rnam ’byed, which in turn have often be abbreviated as pha’i rnam ’byed and ma’i rnam ’byed. In short, the Tibetan words pha and ma (also by the way yab and yum) in these contexts do not actually seem to mean “father” and “mother” but simply “male” and “female,” and hence I personally think it is not appropriate to translate yogatantra and yoginītantra as “father tantra” and “mother tantra.”

Addendum: Note the use of rnal ’byor pha rnams and rnal ’byor ma rnams (RZ1: 186).

མེ་ག་སྠ་ནེས།

The dGe chos gsung ’bum (vol. 1, p. 189) mentions Meghasthāna (for Megasthenes)! I wonder if there is any Sanskrit source for the name.

ཏི་ར་ཧི་ཏ།

The dGe chos gsung ’bum (vol. 1, p. 186) refers to a place in India called Tirahita but it does not seem to be known outside Tibetan sources.

ལི་ཡུལ།

Is Kaṃsadeśa (for Li-yul) attested in Sanskrit sources?

པ་ཏི་ཀཱིརྟི།

There is the mention of a name of a city “Patikīrti” (in connection with the legend of the origin of Yogatantra and Rab gsal zla ba). But it could also be that spelling (in transliteration) is mangled. But the name seems to be unknown in Sanskrit sources?

རབ་གསལ་ཟླ་བ།

Rab gsal zla ba is said to be a king from South-East India. Reconstructed as Pradyotacandra (Roerich; van der Kuijp) and Prakāśacandra (Weinberger). Any sign of a Sanskrit source?

རྣ་རྒྱན་གྱི་གཙུག་ལག་ཁང་།

Tibetan sources allude to “rNa rgyan gyi gtsug lag khang” in Kashmir (mKhyen dbang gsung rtsom, p. 220). Also the Shes bya mdzod refers to the name. But what would be the Sanskrit original of the name (if it indeed existed)? Perhaps Karṇapūra? Was there indeed such a temple in Kashmir?

གོ་མ་དེ་བཱི།

No sign of a female Sanskrit (or Indic) name “Gomadevī,” is there? Also there seems to be no Sanskrit word goma or gomā. But there is a word gomātṛ (MW, s.v.) but it does not help me tracing the name Gomadevī in Indian sources, that is, as a name of female person that occurs in the transmission lineage of the *Guhyagarbhatantra.

See https://sudharmablog.wordpress.com/2023/06/02/gomadevi-gomasala/

བདེན་པ་གཅིག།

Looking for a Sanskrit source for the term ekasatya (bden pa gcig). It must be attested! I am NOT looking for sources in Tibetan translation. I have enough of them.

ཐུབ་རྒྱལ་ནག་པོ།

Two problems here: (a) Thub-rgyal-nag-po’s identity and (b) his Sanskrit name. According some Tibetan sources, it is pre-Buddhist name of Mātṛceta (mentioned in Dan’s Tibskrit). Mi-pham (sKad gnyis shan sbyar, p. 329) states that he was Dignāga’s opponent. One and the same person? What would be his name in Sanskrit? Attested?

ཁོ་རེ་བ་ཆུང་བ།

For an updated version of my discussion of kho re chung ba, see:

https://sudharmablog.wordpress.com/2023/07/16/%e0%bd%81%e0%bd%bc%e0%bc%8b%e0%bd%a2%e0%bd%ba%e0%bc%8b%e0%bd%86%e0%bd%b4%e0%bd%84%e0%bc%8b%e0%bd%96%e0%bc%8d/

སྲིན་སྐད་གསང་སྔགས་སུ་བྱིན་གྱིས་བརླབས་པ།

Just as I half-concentratedly read through Rong-zom-pa’s commentary on the Sarvabuddhasamayogatantra, this line made me pause a bit longer (RZ2: 595): srin skad ’di yang he ru ka’i gsang sngags su byin gyis brlabs so || (“Also the cry/sound of the demon has been empowered [by the Heruka] as a mantra of the Heruka”). We may not believe in a demon, a Heruka, or a mantra, but what does this line tell us regarding the idea of mantra (a kind of “magical formula”). In plain terms, it suggests (at least to me) that a mantra can be “devised” or “formulated” (although not by anyone). In other words, what has initially been a non-mantra has been “mantricized” or “mantrified.” 

It is as though the attainment of Buddhahood via Mantric means is a huge soteriological project. For that, all kinds and classes of non-human beings (e.g. lha ma srin sde brgyad) are recruited (by hook or crook). They are asked or somehow forced to participate. Their tools and techniques came to be “empowered” and employed. The accounts of Padmasambhava’s coming to Tibet deal a great deal about the “Buddhicization,” “soteriologization,” “mantricization,” or “mantrification” of human and non-human forces. I can imagine how a gTer-ma apologist could use the idea of an ahistorical figure such as the Heruka “mantricizing” a demon’s sound and making it a mantra to justify emergence of new mantras in Tibet (or anywhere else). Of course, we could argue that Indian mantras are “genuine” and hence efficacious, whereas Tibetan mantras are simply “hocus-pocus” or “abracadabra.” Well, this would take us to the very heart of the issue: “What is a mantra and how is it supposed to work?” I would not dare answer these questions (yet)!

གཙང་སྨེའི་སྤང་བླང་གི་སྒོ་རྣམ་པ་གཉིས།

The notions of purity and impurity seem to play an important role in Buddhist axiology (i.e. theory of ethical/moral/spiritual values and aesthetical values). What is ethicallly/morally/spiritually pure is “good as means” and hence “wholesome” and a body, speech, or mind that is (perceived to be) “pure” is also considered “beautiful.” Importantly, as I often claim, according to Buddhist axiology there does not seem to anything in the world that has an “intrinsic value” but anything can be given a “extrinsic/instrumental value.” 

But the purity–impurity dichotomy or duality is seen as “extreme” and hence contrarious to the Buddhist doctrine of the madhyamā pratipat (dbu ma’i lam). For example, saṃsāra is considered “impure” and nirvāṇa “pure.” So we would encounter attempts to strike a balance between such two extremes. There seem to several ways of doing that: (a) finding a mid-point, (b) finding a common ground, (c) finding their one essence or “one taste” (ro gcig), (d) cancelling the borderline between the two, (e) transcending the two poles, and so on. These might overlap with each other.

Knowing the oneness of “purity” and “impurity” theoretically is one thing but how one reacts to “purity” and “impurity” in actual life is another. Some Mantric methods require that a Mantric practitioner deliberately indulges in what is normally seen as “disgustingly impure,” so that he or she would know if the talk of “oneness of purity and impurity” has been just vain talk. So one is supposed to consume “five kind of meat” and “five kinds of nectar,” which would be viewed by any given societal or cultural standard as disgusting and outrageous. In such a conduct, the only difference between a Mantric yogin and a swine would be that the former is able to see the “oneness of purity and impurity” and the latter not.

Some Mantric sources, however, prescribe “pure substances” and some “impure substances.” So what are the criteria? Rong-zom-pa (RZ2: 599–600) gives us an insight. He states that whether a Mantric practitioner adopts or abandons “pure substance” or “impure substance” is determined by two criteria: (a) the kind of Mantric system and (b) the kind of family of Mantric deity. First, the Kriyātantric system prescribes “pure substance” but the Yogatantric system does not (necessarily). Second, practices dealing dealing family of wrathful deities (khro bo’i rigs) involve “impure substances,” whereas those dealing with the Tathāgata family (de bzhin gshegs pa’i rigs) involve “pure substances” even according to the Mahāyogatantric system.

བདེན་གཉིས་རྒྱུ་འབྲས། རྒྱུ་འབྲས་རོ་གཅིག།

No wonder that those who do not know (or only superficially know) Mantric Buddhism (i.e. Mantrayāna, Mantranaya, Vajrayāna) would find everything in Mantric Buddhism “perverse.” Yes, I employ the word “perverse” here deliberately and consciously. Whether we again like Mantric philosophy is one thing and whether we understand it another. We don’t have to like it but we must try to understand it. One would indeed realize that Mantric philosophy and Mantric soteriology have been conceived of in a “reverse” order. Just to to sure, there are grades and shades of Mantrism. For the tradition, these grades are supposed to reflect doctrinal “hierarchy,” and indeed from a historical point of view, these might reflect the “relative chronology” in the development of Mantric Buddhism. The “higher” a Tantric system claims itself to be, the later it would have been evolved historically. Of course, this seems to apply only up to the point of completion of the process of inception and the system comes to, so to speak, “freeze” in time. So we would have even today followers following any given “frozen system.” Any innovation would then consist in attempting to elucidate that frozen system. Just to be clear, I do not imply any negative judgement when using the word “frozen.” As I am wont to explain, the word “conservative” may indicate something good if we assume that a conservative Buddhist system “conserves” or “preserves” Buddhist teachings that are very close to what the Buddha might have taught. Mahāyāna Buddhism, too, may be considered positively as “innovative,” or, some would consider it negatively as “degenerative.” Relatively speaking, the teachings of the Buddha can be said to have got “frozen” in “Southern Buddhism” much earlier than those in “Northern Buddhism.” In Tibetan Buddhism, again with no value judgement at all, I think it is fair to say New Mantric traditions represent a rather more “conservative” strands of Mantric Buddhism. The New Mantric traditions, though relatively  new in Tibet, follow or lean upon Mantric traditions in India that have got “frozen” earlier. Interesting in the case of Old Mantric tradition in Tibet is that no more “innovative” steps can be taken with regard to the Kriyā, Caryā, Yoga, Mahāyoga, Anuoyoga, and even some conservative strands of Atiyoga, particularly if one strictly follows the bKa’-ma–gTer-ma divide. Again here, the bKa’-ma tradition is seen as representing a doctrinal system “frozen” in time. But the gTer-ma tradition never allows the Old Mantric tradition as a whole to totally “freeze.” So there is an endless process of “innovation” or “degeneration.” At a certain point in time in Tibet, I am sure, we just had one Atiyoga or rDzogs-chen system. But in course of time, we have Sems-sde, Klong-sde, and Man-ngag-sde. And the Man-ngag-sde kept on innovating itself and resulting in Phyi-skor, Nang-skor, gSang-skor, Yang-gsang-bla-med-skor. There were nine vehicles in the Old Mantric tradition. After a while (14th century?), we start seeing a sPyi-ti vehicle (although I personally think it is not meant as a tenth vehicle but rather all-nine-in-one kind of vehicle). Within the Old Mantric tradition, the most one could do with a “frozen” tradition is to offer a new updated interpretation of it. Even gTer-stons, I think, can no longer do anything with the “frozen” tradition of the *Guhyagarbhatantra. The most they could do is start interpreting it in a new way. Where is such a trend going to lead a tradition? Is the gTer-ma tradition itself going to “freeze” sometime? I wish I knew. Some rNying-ma-pas might think it is enough with the endless gTer-ma-craze! Others might like it to continue. 

But my goodness, why am I telling all these. Back to what I really wanted to say. Mantric philosophy and soteriology seem to be a “reverse” of the non-Mantric philosophy and soteriology. Let me try to give a few examples. (a) Traditionally saṃsāra is seen as a point of departure and nirvāṇa a kind of goal. But according to Mantric (and particularly in Atiyogic) systems, nirvāṇa in a ontological sense, becomes the point of departure and saṃsāra a kind of outcome or result. (b) Similarly, a sentient being is seen as a cause and an awakened being (i.e. buddha) is the result, but according to Mantric (and particularly in Atiyogic) systems, one is initially and primordially awakened and hence a kind of cause, and somehow one becomes a sentient being through nescience. (c) Again traditionally, kun rdzob is seen as the cause and don dam as the result. But this is reverses in the Mantric philosophy. There don dam is the cause and kun rdzob the result. This is made explicit by Rong-zom-pa (RZ2: 38). (d) Traditionally, the theory of cause and effect, and of conditioning is so crucial also for the concept of soteriology and but the Mantric system proposes a soteriological model that dismantles the borderline between cause and effect, and proposes the idea of rgyu ’bras ro gcig, rgyu ’bras dbyer med, and rgyu ’bras las ’das pa and so on. If we do not get the underlying philosophy of the Mantric systems, one might indeed think it is “perverse” and completely contrarious to the teachings of the Buddha. But before condemning it, one will have to make sure that one understands it. It may indeed be a piece of worthless charcoal or a piece priceless diamond. Before one throws it away or tucks it away, it is worth knowing what it really is.

སངས་རྒྱས་རིག་པ།

Rong-zom-pa (RZ2: 38) seems to recognize the following typology of buddha:

(a) ontological buddha (sc. dharmatā = buddha)

(b) gnoseological buddha (sc. advayajñāna = buddha)

(c) physiological buddha (sc. rūpakāya = buddha)

He maintains that this concept is found in Sūtric scriptures. Note that, as pointed out in Almogi 2009: 224, n. 121, for Rong-zom-pa, one of the arguments for positing that all phenomena are already/primordially/inherently/immanently awakened is that all dharmas can impossibly be not buddha if dharmatā is buddha. And for him, dharmas and dharmatā are essentially connected. 

ལུས་ཀྱི་སྤུ།

[I initially posted this with the title “Buddhism on Epilation/Depilation” on my blog http://philosophia-buddhica.blogspot.com]

Just a random thought on how Buddhism would view the custom/practice of “hair removal.” (a) Of course, we know that according to the Vinaya, monks and nuns must shave their heads and beards/moustaches. It is said to be a sign of “renunciation” (or Vinayic asceticism). Lay Indians usually must have kept long hair and moustaches. But monks and nuns are not supposed to shave their other body hair, mainly, pubic hair. Perhaps shaving pubic hair was rather seen as related to sexuality and sensuality. Lay people in ancient India seem to have shaved even pubic hair. Thus the rule in this case seems to have been the reverse of the custom of the laity. (b) If I remember correctly, Sa-paṇ discusses the issue of shaving “eye-brows.” According to some Vinayic traditions, it is a transgression to shave eye-brows, according to others, it is a transgression not to shave eyebrows. (c) Now what about the case in Mantric forms of Buddhism? According to the Subāhuparipṛcchātantra (cited by Rong-zom-pa) and which is said to be a Mantric Vinaya, prohibits shaving of any body-hair (p. 297): byin pa dag dang mchan khung spu rnams ni || lag pas kyang ni btog par mi bya zhing || me yis mi bsreg spu gris breg mi bya || spu med bya phyir sman gyis mi byug go ||. Interestingly, this text reveals several ways of hair-removal and various kind of hair that people must have removed. Removing hair with fire (for example facial hair or hair in and around nose and ears) is perhaps not uncommon amongst some Middle-Eastern or Kurdish/Persian barbers. The text also suggests that people even used hair-removing ointments or creams! 

For Mantric practitioners (particularly when they are in strict retreat), shaving hair would be an act of artificiality and vanity, or at least a waste of time. What happens if such a Mantric practitioner happens to be someone ordained? In Tibetan traditions, there seems to be at least two positions or rather practices. Most monks and nuns would at least shave their heads even when staying in strict retreat but by all means once the retreat is over. But some bKa’-brgyud monks seem to keep their long hair even after the Mantric retreat is over. During my stay in Dharamsala, I often met a bKa’-brgyud yogin, a dge tshul who wore normal monk’s robes but kept long matted hair. Once while attending the fourth-nightly confession ceremony (gso sbyong) in the mTshan-nyid-grwa-tshang, I happened to see that yogin. He, too, was attending the gso sbyong, wearing chos gos, like everyone else in the gathering but with his usual long matted yogic hair. With such abhor, one dGe-lugs monk tugged at his chos gos, and whispered contemptuously: “What are you doing here, you disgrace to the Buddha’s doctrine?” (’dir ga re byed kyi yod, bstan pa’i zhabs ’dren khyod). While my heart ached for the yogin, I could also understand the monk’s horror (though not his contempt) at seeing a yogin (clad as a monk) with long matted hair attending the gso sbyong!

བུད་མེད།

You know what, I am fed up of the negative etymologies of words that refer to woman. So I want to propose that bud med actually means “one who does not fall” (bud du med pa) and hence, “one who is infallible.” What do you say? Of course, I wish this were true! What I actually intend to do here is to collect some thoughts and notes on the perception of woman in Buddhism. But gosh, I have a feeling that so many people have already written so many things on Buddhism and violence, woman and gender, and so on, that there is hardly anything left for us to know or to write! But here, too, I wish it were true. One of my interests has been the ideas (and not practices!) of sbyor sgrol (inherently linked with the problem of sex and violence), a theme that is wrought with difficulties and complexities. And honestly we are far away from seeing a nuanced treatment of the theme in our secondary sources. Here are some venues for exploring the concept of women or female beings (in a Tantric context). But I will confine myself to thoughts found in Rong-zom-pa’s writings.

(a) According to the Subāhuparipṛcchātantra (cf. RZ2: 300), desiring or indulging in “a woman drawn by Mantric means” (sngags kyis bkug pa’i bud med) is like committing adultery. Such a “woman” need not be a human being for she can also be a gnod sbyin mo. The logic behind this transgression seems to be that in such an act, one has the notion of sleeping with another man’s wife. The problem of adultery or rather sexual misconduct is still valid in Tantric context (RZ2: 287). Cf. RZ2: 324 (gzhan gyi bud med bsten par bya ||).

(b) In my study of bodhicitta, I discussed briefly the Tantric perception of woman in the context of the 14 cardinal transgressions. This topic should be studied more closely.

(c) The role or perception of woman in the context of dbang gsum pa or thabs lam should be examined carefully.

(d) The jingling sound of a woman’s ornaments is a sgra’i tsher ma (RZ2: 294). Why? It is obvious.

(e) The Subāhuparipṛcchātantra (RZ2: 289) compares woman to a weapon but contextually it is clear that it is because of her physical attractiveness which can easily unsettle a meditating man. One should not go to watch women and girls (RZ2: 296). A Tantric practitioner should not touch among many other kinds of people, women (RZ2: 199). The Subāhuparipṛcchātantra is a Kriyā Tantric scripture. 

(f) It is also worth-taking a look at the concept of entrusting a Tantric scripture to a woman. 

(g) Vajra-brothers and sisters (RZ2: 315).

PS. Again a mchan bu containing a derogatory remark on chung ma (bSam gtan mig sgron, p. 19): ’dod chags zhe sdang gti mug dri dang ’grogs pa’i phyir chung ma zhes bya’o ||. But connection is still not clear.

But returning to the etymology of bud med, I now think none of our speculations proposed thus far are historically-linguistically correct. I think the one proposed in Laufer [= Chinese transcriptions of Tibetan Names] 1915: 423 is historically-linguistically more plausible. The component med in bud med has nothing to do with the verb “not to have” (or “not to be there”) but rather a kind of marker of “female” gender.

+ པར་གྱིས་ཤིག །

There are a couple of ways to construct “imperative” in Classical Tibetan. One way is: “verb-stem + par/bar + gyis shig.” Here are some nice examples (RZ2: 224):

rtag ces zer na yang yid ches par gyis shig | mi rtag ces zer na yang yid ches par gyis shig | med ces zer na yang yid ches par gyis shig |

“Even if [the scriptural sources] state that [a Buddha Body] is perdurable, give credence to it! Even if [these] state that [it] is not perdurable, give credence to it! Even if [these scriptural sources] state that [it] is non-existent, give credence to it!”

མཁས་གྲུབ།

Being inspired by reflections on the Tibetan word mkhas pa by Vanessa and Chris on the facebook, I wish to devote an entry on mkhas grub here. (I already created an entry for the word rtog ge ba, q.v. rtog ge rnam pa gnyis). To those of you who are new to my blog, I wish to state that this blog is meant purely for my personal reflection and speculation. It is a forum for revealing my ignorance so that I can learn a little from readers like yourselves. In this regard, readers like Dan Martin, with an encyclopaedic knowledge of anything related to Tibetan intellectual culture and intellectual history, have been offering incredibly valuable and beneficial (a word that I prefer to “profitable”) insights.

But now returning to mkhas pa, we all know that the Sanskrit paṇḍita has been rendered as mkhas pa. Important perhaps is to note that it is used both as (a) an adjective (although in Tibetan, I would rather prefer to say “verbal adjective” or “adjectival verb”) meaning “to be learned, wise, shrewd, clever, skillful in (as pointed out also by Vanessa), conversant with” (cf. MW, s.v. paṇḍita); and (b) as substantive and thus “a scholar, a learned man, teacher, philosopher” (also cf. MW, s.v.). We cannot afford to forget that several Sanskrit words (that are synonymous with paṇḍita and kuśala) are rendered into Tibetan by mkhas pa (see, for instance, Negi, s.v.). To sum up, it is somewhat like the English word “expert,” which can be used both as an adjective and as a substantive. But to this, I wish to add a third meaning (derived from the latter), which is often not obvious in Tibetan, namely, “expertise/expertness” (nomen abstractum). One of the challenges in reading Tibetan texts is telling the “concrete” from the “abstract” (especially if not marked with a nyid as in stong pa nyid). To illustrate this difficulty, I always give the example of ’gro ba. It can mean many things: “to go” (verb), “going” (a noun, in the sense of the act of going), “one who goes” (i.e. sentient being as in ’gro ba sems can thams cad), “where one goes to” (i.e. one’s destiny as in ’gro ba ris lnga/drug), and it might even mean “the path along which one goes” (i.e. way) and “means of going” (e.g. a vehicle). As Chris rightly emphasizes, knowing the context seems to be the key. Leaving aside the typology of translation, or, theories and practices of translation proposed by all kinds of experts, I personally feel that our main obligation as translators is to obtain as much as possible a nuanced, accurate, and representative picture of what our texts in the source language (in our case mostly those in Classical Tibetan) are trying to tell us and to convey those ideas contained therein in the target language, all the while being aware that all translations are hypotheses, and that there is always room for changes and improvements.

Now turning to mkhas pa with a rather more philosophical and historical note, the idea of the dichotomy of mkhas grub seems to be fascinating. Buddhist perceptions and conceptions of mkhas pa and grub pa (“an [spiritually/soterically] accomplished one”) might reveal a great deal about the Buddhist intellectual history, culture, philosophy, religion, society, and so forth. I imagine that the mkhas–grub dichotomy represents the two (x–y) poles or ends of the one and same scale of the Buddhist world: rationalism and devotionalism; intellectualism and mysticism/spiritualism; dharmānusārin/nyāyānusārin (chos kyi rjes ’brang or rigs pa’i rjes ’brang) and śraddhānusārin (dad pa’i rjes ’brang). There are Buddhists for whom prajñā plays a more paramount role; there are others for whom karuṇā/śraddhā plays a more predominant role. It is also a matter of theory-orientedness and praxis-orientedness. Ideally speaking, one should be both a mkhas pa and a grub pa, that is, mkhas grub gnyis ldan. In reality, however, many individuals who identify themselves as Buddhists might like to place themselves at a certain point on the scale, at least in terms of their affinity or personal predilection. 

While reflecting on the idea of mkhas pa, we may also consider (a) the idea of “infant” (bāla: byis pa), of which there are three kinds, (1) one opposed to an aged person (lo na rgan pa), and thus “one who is biologically infant,” (2) one opposed to a paṇḍita (“expert”) and hence a lay person or “intellectually/professionally infant,” and (3) one opposed to a Buddhist saint (ārya: ’phags pa) and thus all saṃsārians (i.e. those who are still bound by karmas and kleśas including the paṇḍitas who are pṛthagjanas) are “soteriologically infants.” (b) We may also consider the idea of what is known as “three kinds of pre-requisites/qualifications for composing a treatise” (bstan bcos rtsom pa’i rgyu gsum): rab chos nyid kyi bden pa mthong ba, ’bring yi dam gyi lha’i zhal gzigs pa, and tha ma rig pa’i gnas lnga la mkhas pa. Note that being a mkhas pa is considered to be the lowest kind of qualification. (c) Lastly, we might also consider the three types of slob dpon discussed by mKhan-po Kun-dpal in his commentary on the Bodhicaryāvatāra, and there too, a paṇḍita who is a pṛthagajana (of course when juxtaposed to a buddha and an arhan) is ranked the lowest.

What personally fascinates me is the constant tension that seems to exist between two x–y poles and the kind of attempts made by some to ease or release this tension. Those who are inclined to x are skeptical of y, and vice versa. The statement tshig la mkhas na mkhas pa ma yin te || mi g.yo’i don la khas la mkhas na mkhas pa yin || seems to redefine mkhas pa. Similarly, thos pa med pa’i sgom pa ’di || lag rdum brag pa ’dzeg pa ’dra || seems to be suggestive of such a tension. Also the issue of paṇ ḍi ta’i dpyad sgom and ku sa la’i ’jog sgom seems to be reveal the tension between x and y. The way Nāgārjuna and Asaṅga, Vasubandha and Asaṅga, or, Candrakīrti and Candragomin, has been projected in their hagiographies also seems to reveal the same kind of tension between x and y. But in the end the general public seems to be more sympathetic towards pole y. This is quite understandable. Those who represent or accentuate pole x may appear to cold, hypercritical (though not hypocritical), uncompromising, and deconstructive (though not destructive), whereas those who represent pole y may appear warm, compassionate, compromising, and constructive. Even those who identify themselves with the pole x would ultimately concede that the final goal of Buddhist teachings is to gain direct cognitive access to the true reality thereby making the final soteriological breakthrough, and that can only happen when direct insight (jñāna: ye shes) or discriminating insight (prajñā: shes rab) acquired through meditation is obtained. In other words, if one wishes to attain awakening (bodhi: byang chub), there is no alternative to meditative insight.

Now I must get back to other things that await my immediate attention, as it is stated: paṇ ḍi ta la bya ba gzhan yang yod do || “A paṇḍita has also other activities.”

བདར། བརྡར། འདར། དར།

In one of his comments, Dan suggested that words such as brdar, bdar, and gdar (only in the sense of rectangular shape?) could have something to do with dar. Let us take a look at these words and speculate. It turns out that there are several such words that are either homophones, homonyms, or, homographs.

(a) First, bdar or brdar in phyi bdar/brdar byed pa (Jäschke 1881: s.v.) or phyag bdar/brdar byed pa (“to clean/cleanse”) actually seems to mean “polish” or “sweep.” The word phyi bdar/brdar itself contains two quasi-synonymous components “wipe” and “polish.” In the famous expression bsregs bcad brdar ba’i gser bzhin du, brdar again means “to rasp,” “to rub,” “to polish.” By the way, also star ba seems to have cognates with bdar/brdar ba. Note also so brdar ba “to gnash/grind [one’s] teeth.” This is also true in in zhib tu rdar ba “to grind thoroughly” or phye mar bdar ba “to grind to powder,” “to pulverise.” The question is whether dar (substantive) “silk” has anything to do with bdar/brdar ba in the sense of “to polish,” “to file,” and by extension “to smoothen,” “to refine,” “to hone.” One can imagine a connection between the two inasmuch as “silk” is obtained through a special process of “refinement.” And dar in the sense of “cloth” or “flag” maybe related to dar in the sense of “silk”? Perhaps in Tibetan language, one can imagine several kinds of refinement such refining grains to obtain fine tsam pa; refining silk-cocoons so as to obtain fine silk-threads; refining gold-ore so as to obtain pure gold; and perhaps even refining liquids such as fermented milk so as to obtain “butter-milk” (dar ba, but in some Bhutanese languages one might spell as star). By the way, Jäschke puts a question mark to dar tshil “groin”? But I wonder if dar tshil is (as in rDzong-kha) “cheese” and hence literally “fat/essence of mutter-milk.”

(b) The next question is if the heteronomous-intransitive verb 'dar ba (“to shiver” or “to tremble”) has anything to do with our autonomous-transitive verb bdar/brdar ba “to file/polish.” The “act of rubbing/filing” and the “event of shivering/trembling” are somehow related? At any rate, sdar ma (“trembling, timid,” “coward”) seems related to 'dar ba. Perhaps dar tsam and dar gcig, too, are related with “quiver,” that “a slight tremble” is somehow indicative of “one moment” or a “short span of time.”

(c) Third, what about dar ba (“to be diffused,” “to spread,” “to flourish”)? I cannot see how this would be related with our above bdar/brdar ba and ’dar ba. But dar mo (“prime of life” or “person in the prime of life“ as in dar po and dar mo) is obviously related with dar ba. Perhaps dar in the sense of “flag” is related to “silk/cloth” although it would also make sense to link it with “to flutter” and “to flourish.”

My goodness, all of these are very uncertain!