also is there, but it is indistinct—this is the tanmatra. ‘Tanmatra’ means the subtlety
of essence of that which is to be subsequently manifest as a gross form. The
potentiality in each substance to manifest itself as a particular object is the
tanmatra. The function to be performed is already laid down—which object will
perform what function—though it has not started performing the function.
There is an urge to concretise itself into a particular shape or form. The presence of
this urge, not yet manifest as a form, is the tanmatra. It is not merely an abstract
urge in the sense of a feeling or a thought isolated from the content, but it is the
potentiality of the content itself—just as, to give the example I mentioned, the atomic
condition of a physical object is not a quality of that object; it is the very substance of
the object. What they call the atoms behind objects are not the qualities of the
objects—they are the substances out of which the objects are made. They are the
objects themselves, in a subtle form. Likewise, these tanmatras are not mere
properties or qualities. We should not think that what is known as shabda, sparsa,
rupa, rasa and gandha is a vibration which emanates from an object. Rather, it is
the force which is the constituent factor of the object itself.
This is what follows from mahat. Sometimes the Samkhya, and even the Vedanta and
other schools of thought, posit an intermediary condition called the ahamkara; not
the ahamkara we know of, but a cosmic substance which feels its existence, which is
indistinct from mahat. Inasmuch as this ahamkara is one with mahat and cannot be
separated from it, it is not specially mentioned here in this sutra. They are identical.
The moment mahat manifests itself, the ahamkara is also there; the ‘I-am-ness’, as I
mentioned, is the cosmic ahamkara. It is one with that mahat-tattva; they are the
same. The way in which the mahat-tattva feels itself is called ahamkara. This is not
mentioned separately in the sutra, but it is there, as the doctrines of Samkhya and
Vedanta tell us.
These tanmatras are there as the avisesha, or the indistinct potentialities of future
manifestation as forms, which afterwards become visesha. Actual manifestation
takes place. There is an actual war, as they say. The effect has taken shape, and it has
become what it has to become. There is the wonderful colour and pageantry of this
creation. The objects are grossly manifest, the senses are cut off from them, and there
is an immediate feeling of isolation on the part of every subject associated with the
senses. There is a desire to run after the objects on account of this isolation. Well, the
story continues, as we already know.
These are the gunaparvas: viśeṣa aviśeṣa lingamātra alingāni guṇaparvāṇi (II.19). Parva
is a knot, a chapter, a section, a halting place, a connecting link—whatever we may
call it—where a particular stage ends, or commences. That is called a parva, just as
there are so many parvas in the Mahabharata—Adi Parva, Sabha Parva, etc. Here, in
these parvas, or knots, the gunas of prakriti undergo a transitional process; and the
processes, though infinite in their detail, are, broadly speaking, these as have been
mentioned: visesha, avisesha, lingamatra and alingani. The purpose of reiterating
this point is that the objects of sense have, at their background, a power that is
superior to what is visible to the eyes. They are helped by certain other factors, which
is the reason why it becomes difficult for a single individual to encounter them.
Though we think that a particular person is our enemy, we forget that this enemy has
the background of support from other people and other sources, on account of which