The opening verse of the 'Drik Drishya Viveka' chapter succinctly sets forth its subject:
Form is the seen, the eye is the seer; yet the eye itself is seen, the mind is its seer.
The modifications of the intellect are seen; consciousness alone is the eternal witness—never itself the seen.1
Syntactical order. Form is the seen; the eye is its seer. Yet the eye itself is seen; the mind is its seer. The modifications of the intellect are seen; consciousness alone is the witness—never the seen.
Translation. Form stands as the visible object, the eye as its perceiver; yet the eye itself becomes visible, perceived by the mind; and the mind and its modifications—the ego, intellect, mind proper, memory—themselves become visible objects, perceived by the eternal witness, consciousness itself. Consciousness forever remains the seer; it never becomes the seen. (That which is eternal cannot become an object of perception. All objects of perception are by nature mutable. That which serves as seer at one level remains immutable at that level.)
Commentary. In this world, form is what the eye or the organ of sight grasps as its object—the seen. All forms are merely objects of perception. The eye—the organ that receives these forms—establishes its relation with form as its object and thereby becomes the seer.
In the same manner, that very eye becomes the object of perception for the mind, which dwells deeper within. The mind, establishing its relation with the eye as its object, becomes the seer of that object.
The mind, linked as it is with the primordial seer—the Supreme Self or Brahman—and with all objects of perception and the senses, becomes the revealer or illuminator of all experience. The word "yet" expresses this capacity of the mind.
The "modifications of the intellect"—those movements of the inner instrument which shall be described hereafter—are material in nature, being the workings of ignorance, and therefore are necessarily objects of perception. (Ignorance is not the absence of knowledge, but rather ignorance concerning the true nature of knowledge itself; by "knowledge" is meant knowledge concerning the essential nature of Brahman.)
The 'Witness'—the gross, subtle, and causal bodies ("The body composed of the five elements—earth or land, water or the waters, air or wind, fire or flame, ether or space—is the gross body. The subtle body consists of mind, intellect, ego, and consciousness. The causal body is that in which God experiences bliss and enjoyment (at this level the individual soul merges with the Supreme Self, and the search for the highest Person, that is, the search for God, comes to an end)."—Sri Ramakrishna) are distinct from it. The innermost Self, the indwelling Atman—*drik eva bhavati*—abides in the very nature of the Seer. Through the word 'eva'—the individual soul cannot be an object of perception—this is made clear, and this very verse, speaking to establish the Seer-nature of the individual soul while negating its object-nature, declares—'*na tu drishyate*'—(the immediate) Self is never seen. Here, through this second 'tu', it is indicated that the indwelling Self, the immutable One, being situated at the deepest center, and having no other Seer within it capable of making it an object, the Seer-nature that resides in the immutable Self is the supreme and ultimate Seer-nature.
This is why the relative Seer-nature that exists in the eye and mind is transient and unstable compared to the supreme Seer-nature of the immutable Self. The meaning of this verse is this: the object-nature of the Witness, of the immutable Self, cannot be proven in any way; therefore, the immutable Self is the Seer in all times—past, future, and present—Seer-nature alone is its sole essence.
The first verse points to the essential truth that the text propounds. Let us speak of the phrase 'form is perceived'. The forms of objects—red, blue, yellow, and so forth—that we all know are 'perceived' objects, and can certainly fall within the domain of visual perception (the function and work of seeing). Now the question arises: what kind of Seer is it through which that form is 'pervaded' or connected?
'The eye is the Seer'—that is, what is the eye, the organ of vision—is that Seer. Knowledge of form is bound by the law of correlation and exclusion with the eye; that is, when knowledge of form is present, the eye perceives form; when knowledge of form is absent, the eye perceives it not. That knowledge concerning form does not reside in the eye itself, but in the inner faculty. Calling the eye the Seer creates a certain obscurity. What appears before the eye is that which the senses perceive—a pot, a body, an object, something seen. Without knowledge of form, one cannot even recognize form as form, nor comprehend its nature. If the mind is turned elsewhere, one cannot even notice what is before the eye. Therefore, though it may seem that the eye, which determines form as perceived, is the Seer, the true Seer is essentially the inner faculty (the ego, intellect, mind, and memory).
This is why the verse states: *Tad drishyam drik tu manam*—the eye, which is called the Seer by virtue of its connection with form, is itself an object of perception, not a Seer, because the mind endowed with ego, intellect, and memory—'manam'—or the inner faculty is the Seer even of that organ of vision and serves as the ground of its existence. When the mind is engaged and active, we can understand that the eye exists and is functioning; but in sleep or in deep slumber, when that mind is absent, we cannot perceive the existence or functioning of the eye and other organs.
One might suppose the mind itself to be the atman, the living self. But this too is a misconception, as becomes clear from the second part of the verse. The intellect and its modifications—these are what are here called 'modifications of intelligence.' But these modifications too are seen, they are objects, not the seer, the subject. It is the luminous self, consciousness itself—the witness, the revealer, the seer—that stands apart. How then does the inner instrument become an object of perception? Let us examine this.
I turn to the shruti, the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, 1.5.3:
People say: I was absent-minded, so I did not see; I was absent-minded, so I did not hear. (Even when the senses and their objects are present, and the self is there, forms and sounds are not perceived; therefore the mind is undoubtedly distinct from both the senses and the self.) Thus it is by the mind alone that people see, and by the mind alone that people hear. Desire, aversion, intention, doubt, faith, lack of faith, steadiness, lack of steadiness, modesty, understanding, fear—all of these are indeed the mind. (Here mind and intellect are taken as one.) Because the mind exists, even if someone touches you from behind, you can, through the mind's aid and through discernment, come to know it. (Discernment is the capacity to distinguish the invisible Brahman from the visible world, the capacity to recognize the self or atman from within the realm of experience. The skin alone gives the sense of touch; but the mind understands—this is the touch of a hand, this is the touch of a knee, and so forth. For such discernment to occur, the mind must be immediately present.)
From this, it becomes abundantly clear that the existence of the mind too depends upon another seer. This seer of the mind is the 'witness alone, the seer' or the witness itself, or immutable consciousness; and it is 'never the seen'—it is never an object of perception. If we were to grant that even this has the nature of being seen, we would fall into the logical fallacy of infinite regress—the chain of seer and seen would have no end, no termination. And to avoid this defect, we must ultimately acknowledge a self-evident reality. Otherwise we would incur the error called 'blindness of the world'—the contradiction that the entire universe operates without awareness, without foundation or reason.
Thus the search for the ultimate seer in the relationship between seer and seen, pursued through the Vedic method of negation, through the 'not this, not this,' must continue until we arrive at the direct realization of what is self-luminous, independent, free from all relation to another. For this reason, the witness or immutable consciousness is the seer; it is never the object of another's sight. Two things are identical if, when one is removed, the seeing of the other cannot be established—as fire and its heat, or its capacity to burn, are one reality. That which, through its own intrinsic luminosity, is the seer of all—of form, of the pot, of all things—is not like the mind or the eye or the other senses. As heat is superimposed upon water or iron through the presence of fire, so the nature of the seer is superimposed upon the inner instrument through the presence of the witness-consciousness.
For this reason, knowing with certainty that everything—from the inner instrument, the mind, down to form and all objects—is seen, is perceived, the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad now describes the nature of the inner self, the jiva-atman, which is consciousness itself, which is utterly distinct from all objects of perception and which stands related as the seer to all that is seen, in these verses (3.4.1–2):
Then Uṣasti Chakrāyaṇa asked a question. He said, "Yājñavalkya, please tell me distinctly about Him who is the immediate, direct Brahman—imperceptible yet knowable (that is, self-evident knowledge; the capacity to know without requiring proof, testimony, or conscious reasoning—this is what we call intuitive knowledge)—the innermost Self of all. What is this inner Self?" "The innermost Self is indeed your Self," he replied. "Yājñavalkya, which Self is the innermost?" (Is it the gross body, or the subtle body dwelling within—mind, intellect, consciousness, ego—or the witness of doubt, that third principle? Which among these is the innermost Self?) "He who acts through the vital force—through prāṇa—the innermost Self is indeed your Self. He who acts through apāna—the outward moving force—the innermost Self is indeed your Self. He who acts through vyāna—the distributing force—the innermost Self is indeed your Self. He who acts through udāna—the force of the head and throat—the innermost Self is indeed your Self. The innermost Self is indeed your Self. (Without consciousness presiding over the complex interplay of cause and effect, the vital functions could not occur; therefore the Self is fundamentally characterized by consciousness and by the intricate functioning of the senses—a being of knowledge and wisdom, consciousness itself, merged with the five senses in their operation.)"
Uṣasti Chakrāyaṇa said, "Just as someone, when asked to define a proposition (a proposition being that which, independent of language's shifting forms, carries truth or falsehood—a statement that expresses what is true or false) might say, 'A cow is thus, a horse is thus,' your indirect instruction has the same flaw." To break it down further: if someone were asked to identify a cow or horse distinctly, but instead said, "What walks is a cow," or "What runs is a horse," then to give such an indirect identification by noting manner of movement would be contrary to a proper proposition. Similarly, you have not given the Self's direct identity but instead defined it indirectly through vital functions—and this does not suffice.
"Tell me distinctly about Him who is the immediate, direct Brahman, the innermost Self." "The innermost Self is indeed your Self." That is, the answer I have given is the right one. Just as cows and horses can be made objects of direct knowledge and can therefore be spoken of plainly, the Self cannot be treated thus; for the Self is the very nature of that seeing, hearing, and other faculties through which object-knowledge arises. How then will you see or hear Him?
(In the words of Swami Vivekananda: "What is this Self? We have shown that it transcends even intellect. From the Katha Upanishad we know that this Self is without beginning, unchanging, and all-pervading; it exists everywhere within you, me, and all of us. This all-pervading Self is one and singular. Two beings cannot equally be all-pervading—how could this be possible? Two beings cannot be infinite, and therefore in truth there is only one Self, and you, I, and the entire world are one, merely appearing as many. 'Just as the same fire enters the world and manifests in manifold ways, so the singular, all-indwelling Self shines forth in every living body.' But the question arises: if this Self is complete and pure, and the only reality of the world, what becomes of it when it enters an impure body, the body of a sinner, the body of the virtuous, and elsewhere? How can it remain complete? The same sun is the cause of vision in every eye, yet the defect of an eye does not touch the sun. When someone has jaundice, they see everything as yellow. The sun is the cause of their vision, but the disease that makes them see all things in a sickly hue does not touch the sun. Just so, though this one-without-a-second is the Self of all, the outer purity or impurity cannot touch it. In this transient, perishable world, he alone who knows the eternal Self, who in this material creation perceives Consciousness itself, who in this varied world recognizes the undivided Self and beholds it within himself—his alone is eternal bliss, no other's. That supreme Brahman is not revealed by the sun, nor by the moon and stars, nor by lightning, nor by fire itself—how could it? He shines, and by his shining all things shine; by his light all these are illumined. When all the desires of the heart are cast away, then man becomes immortal and attains the bliss of Brahman even in this body. When all the knots of the heart are cut asunder, when all the crookedness of the heart is straightened, when all doubts are resolved, then man attains immortality. This is the path.")
"Yajnavalkya, what is the Inner Controller?" "No one sees the seer of sight; no one hears the hearer of sound; no one thinks the thinker of thought; no one knows the knower of knowledge. This Inner Controller is your Self; all else is perishable."
Vision is of two kinds: worldly and transcendent. The function of the inner faculty joined to the eye—this particular modification of the mind—is called worldly vision. Worldly vision colors itself with its objects; that is, each sight gives rise to a different field of perception. It has origin and cessation. It seems to be connected or related to transcendent vision. In truth, it is but a shadow of transcendent or Self-vision, and it is pervaded by Self-vision—that is, accompanied by it unconditionally and perpetually. Self-vision, however, is the very nature of the Self; it has neither origin nor cessation. In deep sleep, when it seems he does not see, then indeed he sees yet does not see; for since the seer is indestructible, the seer's vision cannot be destroyed; rather, there is no second object, distinct and separate from him, which he might see.
As fire and the manifestation of fire are identical, so too are the self and the radiance of the self. The seer, in truth, is the unmoving witness. Though the sun and his effulgence are one, people speak of the sun as illuminating; likewise, the knower appearing as seer, and the self together with his vision or consciousness being identical, though he is not the agent of the act of seeing, we nonetheless say the self sees. In ignorance—when knowledge is absent, understanding withheld—during waking and dream, when the sense of duality arises, the self appears to possess particular knowledge; yet in deep sleep, when he attains unity with the supreme self and duality is obstructed, he becomes self-luminous even while bereft of particular knowledge. (Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, 4.3.23)
The moon has no light of its own; it is by the sun's light that the moon is illumined. When the sun sets and the moon gives forth light, we speak of it as "the moon's light," though its source is the sun. The world's relation to the moon is thus of the nature of seer and seen; the moon's relation to the sun is of the nature of seen and seer. One and the same moon is seen at one level, seer at another. The sun is the independent, unmediated source of light; therefore the sun is seer in all circumstances. Here's the curious thing: though it appears the sun gives light to the moon, the sun does not in fact perform the act of "giving light" consciously—such is the sun's nature. The sun is self-luminous, light itself, and all things around it are illuminated by virtue of light's very nature; the sun here is neither conscious nor attributive—not a doer possessing the quality of bestowing light. If we seek the kinship between the sun and the immutable consciousness, understanding becomes easier.
As a lamp is revealed by ordinary or direct or practical knowledge, yet cannot itself reveal that knowledge, so too the worldly sight is illumined by the vision of the self, yet the vision of the self, being "witness-nature," cannot reveal worldly sight. Because relation occurs with worldly sight—because worldly sight is pervaded by the self—the witness-self appears to us as seer, non-seer, and so forth, though he is in truth actionless. In the fourth section, third chapter, seventh verse of the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, we find:
"What is the self?" "He who is present within understanding, dwelling within the senses, and the light-person within understanding himself. Assuming the form of understanding, he moves between this world and the next, and seems to think and move, because, being present or held within dream, transcending this world—which is fashioned as the manifold transformation of ignorance—he appears to so exist."
The self is not a modification of the intellect. As light reflected in a mirror takes on the mirror's form and hue, so the self present within the intellect becomes like the intellect. As light within glass renders both the glass and surrounding objects luminous, the self's radiance similarly makes the intellect, mind, breath, and senses as though conscious. Light reflected in red glass cannot be distinguished from the glass's redness. So too is the self one with the intellect. By rendering the intellect manifest or perceivable, the self, relying upon the intellect, renders the body-sense aggregate manifest or perceivable—appearing, that is, to have the same form as it. (The body-sense aggregate is what the body accomplishes through the aid of the senses)
Though action does not inhere in the Self, action is attributed to it by virtue of its resemblance to intellect. Thus, through the identity or non-duality with intellect, the Self experiences both dream and waking. He who illuminates the intellect in wakefulness and who, transcending the waking state even in dream, illuminates the intellect—he is surely distinct from the intellect and free from agency and impurity.
The same principle applies to the other four senses. The Self must be understood as eternal consciousness, distinct from worldly perception. The Self is the inner witness, immutable and of the nature of eternal knowledge.
What the first section of the Kena Upanishad teaches in its nine verses concerning Brahman, the supreme witness, deserves our close attention here:
The student asks: Our mind moves from one object to another. By whose will does this happen? By whose agency? By whom is the vital force employed to sustain the body? Who speaks when we speak, when we utter words? Whose intent do these utterances express?
Our eyes see form, joined with light. The ear hears sound, connected not with light waves but with sound waves. This deployment of the senses to their respective domains—who brought it about?
Or again: how is there a correspondence between the eye's seeing and the ear's hearing? I saw someone long ago. Today, hearing his voice, I recognize it as the voice of that very person I once saw. Who establishes this connection between the work of the eye and the work of the ear? Each sense organ remains steadfast in its own domain, yet they communicate with one another. By whose authority is this accomplished?
The teacher answers the student's questions beginning with the second mantra. The teacher says: there exists a supreme reality which is the ear of the ear, the mind of the mind, speech of speech, breath of breath, the eye of the eye. That reality is consciousness itself.
The ear's capacity to discern sound becomes possible only because that capacity resides in the consciousness of the Self. The mind's own faculty of intention and perseverance becomes possible only because it exists within the consciousness of the Self. Speech's power to utter words becomes possible only because the consciousness of the Self underlies it. The vital force's capacity to sustain life would be impossible without the consciousness of the Self. The eye's capacity to receive form endures because it is founded in the consciousness of the Self.
The eye, ear, speech, mind, and breath—all are instruments. That these instruments are engaged in their functions is the authority of consciousness itself. As the axe's power to cut wood rests in the hand of the wielder, so too the eye's seeing, the ear's hearing, the breath's sustaining of life, the mind's thinking—the true agency of all these resides in the consciousness of the Self. It is the consciousness of the Self alone that keeps the senses engaged in their respective domains and holds them in mutual relation; no other power does this.
This consciousness itself is Brahman, the ultimate substance. So long as it remains unknown, the senses appear to be the agents of action. The body takes itself to be the doer, employing the words "I" and "mine." Those who know this consciousness-essence are the steadfast ones. Even when causes for distraction and transformation exist, those whose minds remain undisturbed are the steadfast ones.
What becomes of the steadfast one when he knows this consciousness-essence? The sense of "I" and "mine" vanishes from son and friend, from wife and companion. All craving dissolves away. Then he becomes suffused with immortality. Even in this life he becomes deathless, a conqueror of death.
Craving—that is, desire, longing, appetite—for son, wealth, and riches; when this is relinquished, a man becomes perfected. He who becomes perfected attains immortality even in the life beyond death.
The disciple wishes to know more of this Brahman. The teacher says: It is difficult to offer instruction concerning Brahman. For Brahman is the object of no one's knowledge. The senses—eye and the rest—cannot reach Brahman. Speech cannot reach there, nor can the mind. It has already been said that he is the eye of the eye, the mind of the mind. The mind can deliberate and apply itself to all other objects, but not to consciousness; for he is the very self of the mind. Through the senses and mind, knowledge of all things comes to pass. But where the senses and mind cannot go, how can knowledge of that thing be obtained?
Can the teacher then say nothing whatsoever to his disciples about Brahman? He can say something, for I have heard from the ancient wise ones that Brahman does not fall within the category of known things, nor yet within unknown things. Since Brahman is not accessible to direct perception and such means of knowledge, he does not fall within the category of known things; yet he is not the opposite of known, not unknowable in that sense.
Brahman is not accessible to direct perception, yet he is accessible through revelation—through the teaching of the scriptures. This revelation is received through the unbroken lineage of teachers. What Brahman is and what he is not are clarified from the fifth to the ninth mantra. That which is the source from which speech arises, through which speech manifests itself, yet by which speech itself remains unexpressed and unmanifest—that is consciousness-filled Brahman. What is worshipped by uttering the word "this"—that is not Brahman. Only what is the object of knowledge can rightly be called "this." Brahman is not the object of knowledge. What sustains speech, what sustains knowledge—that is Brahman. The mind exists by virtue of that which is; yet it cannot think of him. The eye exists by virtue of that which is; yet it cannot see him. The ear exists by virtue of that which is; yet it cannot hear of him. The life-force is animated by that which is and functions properly in its own domain; yet it cannot make him its object. That very essence is consciousness; that very essence is Brahman.
No child can know the cause of their own birth. The union of mother and father—in the carnal sense—is the indispensable cause of the child's existence. Therefore, no child has any possibility of bearing witness to the marriage of their parents. Because Brahmic consciousness exists at the root as the knower, the senses and the inner faculties perform their respective functions. For this reason, none of them can come to know the truth of Brahmic consciousness. What the senses and mind perceive becomes their 'object.' The demonstrative word 'this' is used only when attention turns toward an object in proximity. Therefore, what the word 'this' designates cannot be Brahman. The sun's radiance alone renders all things in the world visible. When the sun sets, no object has the power to reveal the sun, nor to reveal itself. By the radiance of consciousness, the senses, mind, life-force, intellect—all are illumined. If consciousness itself does not shine forth, then the mind, life-force, and senses have no capacity whatsoever to reveal it or to make manifest their own existence.
In essence and in summary: Brahman is the foundational ground of knowledge, never its object. Brahman is consciousness itself—never that which can be designated by the word 'this.'