The monk who delights in vigilance and sees danger in negligence is incapable of falling back: one is near nibbāna.

The pairing of this verse with the previous one completes the picture: the vigilant monk not only advances (ḍahaṃ aggīva gacchati) but is abhabbo parihānāya — incapable of falling back, of losing what has been gained. Genuine vigilance reaches a tipping point where regression is no longer possible because one has seen reality with sufficient clarity.

Nibbānasseva santike — near nibbāna, in the proximity of nibbāna: not necessarily already in it, but in its neighborhood. The image suggests that nibbāna is not an infinitely distant destination but something that becomes tangibly near as practice matures.

Santike — close, near — also has the sense of “in presence of”: like one sitting in the presence of one’s teacher, absorbing their quality without need for explicit words. The vigilant practitioner dwells in the nearness of liberation; one breathes it, so to speak.

The second vagga closes with this pair describing the complete arc: from delight in practice to purifying fire to the threshold of liberation. Vigilance is not just discipline but the path itself.