उपनिषद् · Tripurā 15
॥
देवनागरी
परिस्रुता हविषा भावितेन प्रसङ्कोचे गलिते वैमनस्कः । शर्वः सर्वस्य जगतो विधाता धर्ता हर्ता विश्वरूपत्वमेति
लिप्यंतरण (IAST)
parisrutā haviṣā bhāvitena prasaṅkoce galite vaimanaskaḥ | śarvaḥ sarvasya jagato vidhātā dhartā hartā viśvarūpatvameti
शब्दशः अर्थ
संस्कृतIASTअर्थ
परिस्रुता हविषा भावितेनparisrutā haviṣā bhāvitenaby strong drink, by the offering anointed
प्रसङ्कोचे गलिते वैमनस्कःprasaṅkoce galite vaimanaskaḥonce the contraction has melted away, unminded
शर्वः सर्वस्य जगतः विधाताśarvaḥ sarvasya jagataḥ vidhātāŚarva, the fashioner of the whole world
धर्ता हर्ताdhartā hartāholder, taker
विश्व-रूप-त्वम् एतिviśva-rūpa-tvam etiattains the state of all-form
अनुवाद
«By strong drink, by the anointed offering — once the contraction has melted away — [he becomes] unminded; Śarva, the fashioner of the whole world, the holder, the taker, attains the state of having every form».
संस्करण
cf36fe26fca3 · प्रकाशित 6 अग॰ 2026, 2:35:03 pm UTC
उपलब्ध भाषाएँRUENश्लोक बदलें इन कुंजियों से
The phrase prasaṅkoce galite, “once the contraction has melted away,” is the crux of this verse, and it is a fine one.
Saṅkoca means “contraction, drawing-in, shrinking” — what a mimosa does when touched, and what a person does when ashamed or afraid. Galita — “melted, dissolved, fallen away.”
It says, then: when the shrunken state has melted away. And this describes liberation through a bodily sensation, not through abstraction: not “when the fetters fell,” but — when one ceased to contract.
The observation is precise. An unfree person truly is contracted: they draw in, guard themselves, hold themselves in a fist; and the first thing noticeable in one who has ceased to fear is not radiance and not wisdom, but that they have unclenched.
The three names given to Śarva stand side by side and do not easily sit together: vidhātā, “fashioner”; dhartā, “holder”; hartā, “taker.” The very one who fashioned and holds — also takes away.
The Vaiṣṇava side speaks of the very same thing, and in the very same words: He creates, and preserves, and takes away. There is no need to be troubled by this, and here is why. It is not a stranger who takes, but the very One who gave; and so loss in these books is never described as an accident — it is the act of the one who gave in the first place. This consolation is small at the moment of loss, but it is the only one that does not fall apart under scrutiny.