There is no defect in what is born: it is saṃsāra that has been examined.

This statement consoles and demands in equal measure. Na ko ‘pi doṣaḥ: there is no fault, no sin, no inherent defect. The being that is born (jātasya) is not stained by birth; purity is sahaja, innate. What is “examined,” vicāritam, is saṃsāra itself: the wandering, the transmigration, the world of multiplicity. Saṃsāra is what dissolves under analysis; the Self does not. This aligns with the Buddhist sahaja and the sahajātma of the Avadhūta Gītā: the natural is pure; the artificial is saṃsāra. The doṣa lies not in existence but in bhrama, errancy. Like a traveler walking in circles is not condemned; they have simply taken the wrong path. The sādhaka who understands this ceases their self-flagellation. There is no karma to purge; there is ignorance to dissolve. There is no original sin; there is an original forgetting of one’s svarūpa. Practice is not expiation; it is remembrance. Every āsana, every prāṇāyāma, every dhyāna is a gesture of remembering what never ceased to be.

This statement consoles and demands in equal measure. Na ko ‘pi doṣaḥ: there is no fault, no sin, no inherent defect. The one who is born (jātasya) is not stained by birth; purity is sahaja, innate. What is “examined,” vicāritam, is saṃsāra itself: the wandering, the transmigration, the world of multiplicity. Saṃsāra is what dissolves under analysis; the Self does not. This aligns with the Buddhist sahaja and the sahajātma of the Avadhūta Gītā: the natural is pure; the artificial is saṃsāra. The flaw lies not in existence but in bhrama, misapprehension. Just as a traveler walking in circles is not condemned; they have simply taken the wrong path.

The sādhaka who understands this ceases their self-flagellation. There is no karma to purge; there is ignorance to dissolve. There is no original sin; there is an original forgetting of one’s true nature (svarūpa). Practice is not expiation; it is remembrance. Every āsana, every prāṇāyāma, every dhyāna is a gesture of remembering what never ceased to be.