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The Influence of the Kālacakra: Vajrapāṇi on Consort Meditation

David B. Gray

 

The Kālacakratantra was the last of the major Buddhist tantras to be composed in India.¹ As such, it benefited from the rich legacy of Indian tantric Buddhist scholarship, and it is thus, naturally, one of the most complex and sophisticated of the tantric traditions. But its adherents were also faced with the serious challenge of establishing its legitimacy and disseminating it within a Buddhist world replete with practice traditions. Judging by its popularity in Tibet, there is no doubt that this project was ultimately successful. And this success is partly attributable to the early advocates who composed the influential series of commentaries known as the “bodhisattva” commentaries, so named because their authorship was attributed to three bodhisattvas. These works significantly advanced the prestige and influence of the Kālacakra tradition and helped establish it as an influential tantric tradition.

The best known among these is the Vimalaprabhāṭīkā,² attributed to Puṇḍarīka, who was believed to be an emanation of the bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara. It was by far the most influential commentary on the Laghukālacakratantra.³ The remaining two are audacious attempts by advocates of the Kālacakra tradition to compose commentaries on other major tantras. One of these texts, the Hevajrapiṇḍārthaṭīkā,⁴ a commentary on the Hevajra Tantra, was attributed to Vajragarbha, the bodhisattva interlocutor of the Hevajra Tantra.⁵ The third, the Laghutantraṭīkā,⁶ a commentary on the Cakrasamvara Tantra, was attributed to Vajrapāṇi, likewise considered by many to be the bodhisattva interlocutor of the Cakrasamvara.⁷ While it is possible that these texts were authored by persons so named, it seems very likely that the attribution of authorship to the bodhisattvas who play central roles in the origin myths of these respective traditions represents an aggressive attempt to assert legitimacy, undertaken by the audacious and confident advocates of this new tantric tradition.⁸

A peculiar feature of both commentaries, and one that may have somewhat limited their influence, is the fact that they are both incomplete, commenting on only portions of the tantras. The Hevajrapiṇḍārthaṭīkā comments on the first one hundred and twenty stanzas of the Hevajra Tantra. Vajrapāṇi’s commentary is particularly unusual in that it, on the surface, comments on only a small fraction of the text, namely, the first ten and a half verses of chapter one. The Tibetan tradition accounted for this by claiming that the works are incomplete and that significant portions of them were lost on account of warfare.⁹ However, this story is almost certainly not true. In the case of the Cakrasamvara Tantra, the first chapter, on which Vajrapāṇi focused, is traditionally considered to be an abstract of the contents of the text. From the very modest basis of the text’s first ten and a half verses, Vajrapāṇi commented upon a substantial range of very important topics. Vajrapāṇi concludes his text with an assertion that this is exactly what he was doing, confirming that the text is not incomplete.¹⁰

Despite the fact that neither of these commentaries is exhaustive, they achieved great fame in Tibet. Taken as a whole, the “bodhisattva” commentaries are sophisticated works of tantric exegesis, and their attribution to great bodhisattvas certainly added to their prestige. Advocates of the Kālacakra tradition, such as Bu-ston, were particularly fond of these works. Tsongkhapa, however, took a more balanced approach. Reacting, perhaps, to Bu-ston’s exuberance,¹¹ Tsongkhapa warned the readers of his commentary on the Cakrasamvara Tantra against excessive dependence on the “bodhisattva” commentaries. He cleverly did this by referring to Vajrapāṇi’s explanation of the sources on which one should rely in order to understand cryptic tantras such as the Cakrasamvara: “Furthermore, due to its abundance of adamantine expressions,¹² learned ones desiring liberation should know it by means of the instruction of the holy guru, what is said in other tantras, and the commentaries written by the bodhisattvas.”¹³ In other words, the “bodhisattva” commentaries are one source, but not the only source, that should be taken into account by those seeking to understand the tantra.¹⁴

Vajragarbha’s and Vajrapāṇi’s works represent attempts by Indian advocates of the Kālacakra tradition to expand the commentarial system of this tradition to other tantras. The justification for this approach is the simple and elegant idea that this tantra, and presumably all others, should be understood in the context of “what is said in other tantras.” As Vajrapāṇi states later in the text, “one should understand [this] tantra by means of other tantras, since the Tathāgata stated them.”¹⁵ This is a refreshingly nonpartisan approach, one designed to counteract the perhaps natural tendency of advocates of a given tantric tradition to downplay works from a different tradition. In other words, if one accepts the claim that the tantras are spoken by the Buddhas, that they are buddhavacana, then there is no basis for accepting some and rejecting others. But this argument also provides the basis for applying the Kālacakra tradition’s interpretive framework to this and other tantras.

Following the Vimalaprabhā, Vajrapāṇi’s commentary is the next best known and best preserved of the bodhisattva commentaries.¹⁶ This may in part reflect the popularity of the Cakrasamvara Tantra itself, as evidenced by the thirteen commentaries on this text preserved in the Kanjur.¹⁷ But the relative success of Vajrapāṇi’s commentary over Vajragarbha’s may also be due to the relative vulnerability of the Cakrasamvara Tantra to this sort of external commentarial appropriation. The Hevajra Tantra may have been far less vulnerable to this sort of activity. This is because the Hevajra tradition gave rise to a very influential commentarial system, namely the “fury fire” (caṇḍālī) and the four joys/ four moments system of perfection stage meditation.¹⁸ Having its own influential system of perfection stage practice, it was almost certainly less susceptible to the application of an external system.

The Cakrasamvara Tantra, however, was far more vulnerable to this sort of approach. The Cakrasamvara Tantra lacked a convincing system of perfecting stage practice, a fact that, paradoxically, may have contributed to its popularity, as this permitted the application of various other systems. While at least three distinct systems of perfecting stage practice were developed within the Cakrasamvara tradition,¹⁹ none of them achieved universal acceptance. As a result, many of its commentators drew upon the systems devised for other tantras, especially the “five-stage” system of the Guhyasamāja tradition, as well as the Hevajra four-stage system.²⁰ The Cakrasamvara Tantra was thus particularly open to the ambitious commentarial project of the “bodhisattva” commentators.

Vajrapāṇi’s commentary is particularly interesting for two reasons. First, as a work of considerable length, it is capable of shedding light on the history of late tenth- and early eleventh-century Indian esoteric Buddhism. Secondly, it is a truly ambitious work and tackles, in a fascinating manner, some of the most controversial issues debated by Indian tantric Buddhists at this time.

Regarding the first point, an interesting feature of Vajrapāṇi’s commentary is his frequent quotations from the lost ur-tantras, such as the twenty-five-thousandstanza Guhyasamāja Tantra or the Paramādibuddha Tantra, the legendary source of the Kālacakra tradition.²¹ Given the fact that, by the tenth century, it had become de rigueur to claim that the root tantras of the various tantric traditions derive from massive ur-texts, a skeptic might be inclined to suspect that they never existed. Quoting from these texts might be seen as a clever strategy for supporting one’s arguments, via the use of unverifiable quotations from authoritative sources. While such skepticism may very well be warranted, it is important to note that it is certainly possible that some of these texts did exist, particularly the relatively modest ones claimed by Vajrapāṇi, such as a twenty-five-thousand-stanza Guhyasamāja Mūlatantra, or a twelve-thousand-stanza Paramādibuddhatantra. While these root texts have not survived, it is certainly possible that texts of these size existed during Vajrapāṇi’s time.²² Their existence is far more plausible than the texts of hundred of thousands or even millions of stanzas claimed by some other traditions.²³

Indeed, given the fact that the Kālacakra tradition appears to originate in far northern India in the late tenth century, just as this region was subject to the depredations of Mahmud of Ghazni and his successors,²⁴ it is certainly plausible that a significant number of the texts available to Vajrapāṇi may not have survived to be translated by the Tibetans who would soon descend upon northern India in search of Buddhist scriptures.

The influence of Vajrapāṇi’s work was likely heightened by his willingness to confront one of the most controversial issues facing Indian Buddhists at this time. This was the status of the sexual practices in the tantras. The Cakrasamvara Tantra provided an excellent opportunity for this sort of exegesis, as it is a text that treats this topic in a confounding fashion, both blunt and ambiguous. That is, while the tantra contains numerous erotic passages strongly suggesting sexual practices, few details about these practices are related in the text itself. The interpretation of these passages thus became a controversial issue.²⁵

This topic had two facets. The first is the status of the controversial second and third consecrations in the Unexcelled Yogatantras, which, if practiced as literally described in texts such as this one, apparently require sexual union with a consort. A second and closely related issue was whether or not perfecting stage practice required sexual union with a physical consort, or karmamudrā. While the tantra itself does not present any unambiguous descriptions of perfecting stage practice, it does treat at some length the consecration process, focusing particularly on the second “secret” (guhyābhiṣeka) and third “Consort-gnosis” (prajñājñānābhiṣeka) consecrations, which involve sexual practices as described in the tantra itself.²⁶

This provoked controversy because it gave the impression that sexual activity was required for full participation in what was then consider the “highest” tantric system by many Buddhists. This threatened the status of the monks, traditionally the authority figures of Buddhist communities. They were presented with the choice of preserving their vow of celibacy or fully engaging in the “highest” practices. Faced with this dilemma, it appears that some monks made the decision to engage in these practices and thereby violated their monastic vows. This is strongly suggested by Atīśa, who, writing during the early eleventh century in his Bodhipāthapradīpa, urges his fellow monks to refrain from this as follows:

Due to the specific prohibition in the Ādibuddhamahātantra,²⁷ the secret and consort[-gnosis] consecrations should not be received by the celibate. If these consecrations are taken, since those who live celibately and ascetically would be engaging in what is prohibited to them, their ascetic vows would be broken, and they would incur the downfalls which defeat the observant. And as they would certainly fall into the evil destinies, [for them] there would be no success.²⁸

It seems that Vajrapāṇi would agree with Atīśa. In his discussion of this issue, Vajrapāṇi focuses on the question of practice with consort (mudrā).²⁹ In so doing, he addresses in some detail practice with an actual physical consort (karmamudrā) as well as practice with a visualized consort (jñānamudrā). For him, both of these contrived practices are inferior to practice with the “great consort” (mahāmudrā), a term which can, in this context, refer to the female consort or deity and the “absolute truth as realized through her,” as David Snellgrove has noted.³⁰

Vajrapāṇi broaches this topic in the context of commenting on the second half of the seventh verse of the text, which reads as follows: “with an inwardly focused mind, give rise to (or, meditate upon)³¹ the achievement of pleasure” (antargatena manasā kāmasiddhiṃ tu bhāvayet).³² His commentary occurs as follows:

Now, the meditation on Mahāmudrā will be explained by means of [the text] “with an inwardly focused mind” (antaragatena manasā) and so forth. Here in the method of mantra, in the tantras of wisdom and expedience, this adamantine expression can be realized in other tantras by means of the different [systems of] symbolic language. The first member of the compound in [the text] “with an inwardly focused mind” is an adamantine expression in the Twenty-five Thousand [Verse] Śrī Samāja, [in which] the Blessed Lord Buddha stated: “One who is [sitting in] the adamantine lotus posture should observe the mind that has gone within the jewel (cittaṃ maṇyantargatam), so that it reaches the state of purity, filled with the bliss of emission and so forth.” Likewise, “Placing the penis (liṅga) in the vulva (bhaga), seminal essence (bodhicitta)³³ should not be emitted. One should meditate on the Buddha’s image as the triple realm in its entirety.”

One should understand their meaning by taking these two verses, which are adamantine speech, together. It is expressed in half a verse in this tantra. It is said that it is the seminal essence that is going within the adamantine jewel. With a mind that is inwardly focused, i.e., with unejaculated seminal essence, one meditates on the Buddha’s image, which has the characteristics of the triple realm, in union with a physical consort (karmamudrā) or visualized consort (jñānamudrā). The yogī should meditate on the triple realm—which is characterized by the desire, form, and formless realms, which is the nature of things animate and inanimate, and which is endowed with the perfection of all forms——in its entirety.³⁴

Here Vajrapāṇi presents the sexual practices in a rather noneuphemistic fashion, making it clear that they can be practiced with a physical or visualized partner. For Vajrapāṇi, however, the erotic passages in the text are “adamantine expressions,” in need of careful elucidation. In his view, these passages ultimately point toward the noncontrived practice of mahāmudrā, the “great consort” in the sense of buddhajñāna, the gnosis of awakening, personified in divine female form as Prajñāpāramitā. In his view, the text employs erotic language simply because this is a characteristic feature of the yoginī or prajñā tantras. He continues his commentary as follows:

Now, since Prajñāpāramitā is endowed with the perfection of all forms, the Blessed Lord stated in this Tantra that she is the “achievement of pleasure,” because it is a Wisdom Tantra. The yogī “should meditate upon” this “achievement of pleasure.” Here “pleasure” refers to Vajrasattva of great passion, great aim, the supreme imperishable,³⁵ and “achievement” is the great consort (mahāmudrā) Prajñāpāramitā, endowed with all perfect forms. Moreover, his passion is nonconceptual great compassion, and the achievement is the conceptual great emptiness, as they are [conceived in] the self-awareness of the yogīs. In the achievement of the physical and visualized consorts, there is the supreme achievement. “For the sake of Buddhahood, one should meditate on her, namely, the great consort (mahāmudrā), who is the achievement of pleasure [in which] all is known, all forms are known, the path is known, the forms of the path are known, and who is the heir³⁶ to the Buddha qualities such as the ten powers and the four fearlessnesses, and so forth.” This is the determination of the Tathāgata [stated] in other tantras. One should understand [this] tantra by means of other tantras, since the Tathāgata stated them.³⁷

He then goes into greater depth describing this meditation practice, which he divides into two stages, “prior image meditation” (pūrvabimbabhāvanā) and “subsequent image meditation,” which appear to be visualization practices associated with perfecting stage meditation. He describes them as follows:

Now, this meditation has two aspects, prior image meditation and subsequent image meditation. Prior image meditation is meditation on the signs of smoke, etc.,³⁸ the ultimate image. When the image is seen, one places the penis in the vulva, then there is the meditation on the subsequent image, the supreme imperishable, for the sake of increasing of bliss. Moreover, in order to produce great bliss, one should then abandon the physical or visualized consort and meditate on the great consort. Regarding the prohibition on meditation with a physical or visualized consort, the Blessed Lord stated [the following] in the Paramādibuddha [Tantra] in Twelve Thousand [Stanzas]: “Having abandoned the physical consort and set aside the imagined consort, meditate upon the great consort through the yoga of the supreme imperishable.” With respect to the first action, the prior meditation, [it also states]: “Unceasing supreme bliss is obtained in the vulva (yoni) as long as the yogī does not emit seminal essence. One should always visualize oneself as the Buddha image, endowed with a blissful form, as long as one keeps one’s semen stabilized.” This adamantine expression should be understood in the context of consecration.³⁹

While Vajrapāṇi treats the sexual practices, whether real or imagined, he clearly does not see these practices as the “highest” teaching, but rather, at best, as preliminaries to the practice that he does see as supreme, namely meditation on mahāmudrā. He then addresses the crucial issue of the status of the controversial second and third consecrations and their relation to the enigmatic “fourth” consecration, in which esoteric knowledge of the tradition is revealed to the initiate:

With respect to this, it truly is the case that the Blessed Lord, in this King of Tantras that has the nature of wisdom and expedience, taught, as a conventional truth and for the sake of those of childish intellect, the [third] Consort-gnosis [consecration] of perishable bliss produced from the union of the two organs, and arising through passion with a physical consort. This was [not taught] as an ultimate truth. Why is that? It is because of the statement of the Blessed Lord that it is the fourth [consecration] that is thus [i.e., taught as an ultimate truth].⁴⁰

Vajrapāṇi then addresses the argument made by “childish people,” namely that the fourth consecration depends upon the third, that the “third is the cause, and the fourth is the fruit.”⁴¹ He rejects these arguments, and this rejection is consonant with his privileging of mahāmudrā meditation over the forms of meditation employing a real or imagined consort. In other words, in both cases he does not wish to admit the dependence of the disembodied, inner realizations upon outer, physical practices, presumably because doing so would lend authority to practices that, by Vajrapāṇi’s time, were quite controversial.

Vajrapāṇi’s position was an intermediate one in the ongoing process of the reinterpretation of these tantras. While Vajrapāṇi problematicizes the sexual practices, he does not clearly and unambiguously prohibit their practice (by all or for monks specifically), as Atīśa would do within a few decades. This work thus contributed to the ongoing movement in tantric Buddhism away from external, body-oriented practices and toward internal contemplative practices. A corresponding and closely related trend was the movement away from the performance of transgressive ritual practices and toward the performance of rituals employing symbolic substitutes for the ritual elements associated with sexuality or violence. Hence the second and third consecrations, as publicly practiced by Tibetans, no longer involve overt sexuality, but rather purely symbolic elements.⁴²

In conclusion, while Vajrapāṇi’s commentary may have made a relatively modest contribution to the study of the Cakrasamvara Tantra, it appears to be an extremely valuable work insofar as it sheds light on the development of Indian tantric Buddhism. It illuminates the problematic reception of the transgressive Unexcelled Yoga Tantras within monastic Buddhist communities in northern India. It also provides tantalizing hints of how the traditions associated with these tantras was transformed, via the application of creative commentary, during the crucial ninth-through eleventh-century period, between the time of their initial composition in India and their transmission to Tibet.

Endnotes

1. The Kālacakratantra and its associated literature has been dated to the late tenth and early eleventh centuries. Regarding this issue, see John Newman, “The Epoch of the Kālacakra,” Indo-Iranian Journal 41 (1998): 319-49. In comparison, the Guhyasamāja Tantra was composed by the late seventh or early eighth centuries, and the Hevajra and Cakrasamvara Tantras are datable to the late eighth or early ninth centuries. Regarding the dating of these works, see the introduction to my The Cakrasamvara Tantra: A Study and Annotated Translation (New York: American Institute of Buddhist Studies/Columbia University Press, 2007).

2. This is now a very well-known work. The Sanskrit text has been edited and published (Vimalaprabhāṭīkā of Kalki Śrī Puṇḍarīka on Śrī Laghukālacakra-tantrarāja, vol. 1, J. Upadhyāya, ed. [Sarnath: Central Institute of Higher Tibetan Studies, 1986], and vol. 2, V. Dwivedi and S. S. Bahulakar, eds. [Sarnath: Central Institute of Higher Tibetan Studies, 1994]). It is also preserved in Tibetan translation (To. 1347).

3. Regarding Puṇḍarīka and the significance of the Vimalaprabhā, see Vesna Wallace, The Inner Kālacakratantra (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001), p. 3.

4. To my knowledge, the Sanskrit manuscripts of this work have not survived. This work is preserved in Tibetan translation (To. 1180).

5. The text of the Hevajra Tantra itself makes it clear that Vajragarbha was the Buddha’s interlocutor. See, for example, the opening of the text, kalpa 1, ch. 1, vv. 2-13, translated in David Snellgrove, The Hevajra Tantra: A Critical Study (London: Oxford University Press, 1959), vol. 1, 47-49, and edition in vol. 2, 2-5.

6. The Sanskrit for this text has been edited by Claudio Cicuzza in his The Laghutantraṭīkā (Serie Orientale Roma, vol. 86, Roma: Istituto Italiano per l’Africa e l’Oriente, 2001). There is also a Tibetan translation (To. 1402).

7. Unlike the Hevajra Tantra, the Cakrasamvara Tantra (CS) contains only traces of dialogue, with no indication of the identity of the text’s interlocutor. This identity thus became the object of debate among CS commentators. The influential commentator Kambala argued that the interlocutor was Vajrapāṇi (To. 1401, D fol. 4b). However, Bhavabhaṭṭa argued that the interlocutor was Vajravārāhī and relegated Vajrapāṇi to the position of the tantra’s compiler (To. 1403, D fol. 41a). Interestingly, Vajrapāṇi qua author of the Kālacakra-inspired CS commentary humbly attributed this influential position to Vajravārāhī, in agreement with Bhavabhaṭṭa. See D fol. 79a, and Cicuzza, Laghutantraṭīkā, 44.

8. The Tibetan tradition held that there was a person of this name who was the author of a text on Mahāmudrā and who, according to the Blue Annals, was born in 1017 CE. The author of the Kālacakra-inspired CS commentary is clearly very interested in the topic of Mahāmudra, so these works may have been composed by the same individual. Cicuzza, however, argues that this commentary belongs to the early phase of Kālacakra exegesis and was most likely composed between 967 and 1026 CE, when most of the other early Kālacakra texts were composed, making it highly unlikely that the author of this text was born in 1017 CE. See Cicuzza, Laghutantraṭīkā, 25-26.

9. For a summary of this story see Cicuzza, Laghutantraṭīkā, 24. For the full account see George Roerich, trans., The Blue Annals by gZhon-nu dPal (2nd ed., Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1976), 762-763.

10. See Cicuzza, Laghutantraṭīkā, 24, for a translation of Vajrapāṇi’s concluding remarks.

11. Bu-ston composed a lengthy and influential commentary on the CS, the rgyud sde spyi’i rnam par gzhag pa rgyud sde rin po che’i mdzes rgyan zhes bya ba, in The Collected Works of Bu-ston, Lokesh Chandra, ed. (New Delhi: International Academy of Indian Culture, 1966), vol. ba, 1-610. Tsongkhapa, in composing his commentary on the CS, followed Bu-ston’s work closely. As a result, Bu-ston is the most frequent object of Tsongkhapa’s criticism.

12. “Adamantine expressions” (vajrapada) are the instances of symbolic speech found in the tantras, which require detailed explanation.

13. Trans. from the text in Cicuzza, Laghutantraṭīkā, 52, and D fol. 82b-83a.

14. For Tsongkhapa’s comments, see his bde mchog bsdus pa’i rgyud kyi rgya cher bshad pa sbas pa’i don kun gsal ba, in the rJe yab sras gsung ’bum, bKra-shis Lhun-po ed. (repr. Delhi: Ngawang Gelek Demo, 1980), vol. nya, fol. 13b-14a.

15. My translation from the Sanskrit in Cicuzza, Laghutantraṭīkā, 124, and the Tibetan at To. 1402, D fol. 124b. The larger passage containing this text is translated below.

16. The fact that this work was preserved in Nepal and Vajragarbha’s commentary apparently was not, may indicate that Vajrapāṇi’s work was more popular.

17. These include the commentaries of Kambala (To. 1401), Vajrapāṇi (To. 1402), Bhavabhaṭṭa (To. 1403), Durjayacandra (To. 1404), Bhavyakīrti (To. 1405), Jayabhadra (To. 1406), Devagupta (To. 1407), Vīravajra (To. 1408), Tathāgatarakṣita (To. 1409), *Śāśvatavajra (rtag pa’i rdo rje) (To. 1410), Sumatikīrti (To. 1411), Vīravajra (To. 1412), and Indrabhūti (To. 1413). Eleven of these treat the entire Tantra; Vajrapāṇi’s is an extended commentary based on the first ten and a half verses, and Sumatikīrti’s is a short summation and analysis of the Tantra’s contents. Among these, Sanskrit texts have survived for three of them—Vajrapāṇi’s, Bhavabhaṭṭa’s, and Jayabhadra’s. See section 1.3 of Gray, The Cakrasamvara Tantra, for a discussion of these works.

18. Regarding this system see Per Kvaerne, “On the Concept of Sahaja in Indian Buddhist Tantric Literature,” Temenos 11 (1975): 88-135.

19. I refer to the systems attributed to the mahāsiddhas Lūipa, Ghaṇṭapa, and Kāṇha and outlined in Lūipa’s Śrībhagavad-abhisamaya (To. 1427), Ghaṇṭapa’s Śrīcakrasamvara-pañcakrama (To. 1433), and Kāṇha’s Ālicatuṣṭaya (To. 1451).

20. Regarding the Guhyasamāja system, see Daniel Cozort, Highest Yoga Tantra (Ithaca, NY: Snow Lion Publications, 1986). For examples of CS commentators employing the concepts derived from these other systems, see the notes to my translation in Gray, The Cakrasamvara Tantra.

21. Regarding this text, see John Newman, “The Paramādibuddha (The Kālacakra mūlatantra) and its Relation to the Early Kālacakra Literature,” Indo-Iranian Journal 30 (1987): 93-102.

22. The Paramādibuddha is, in fact, the most plausible of the legendary mūlatantras, not only because of its relatively modest size, but also because it is the best attested. A number of early Kālacakra texts quote from it, and a significant portion is preserved in Nāropa’s Sekoddeśaṭīkā, which purports to comment on the chapter on consecration in this text. Regarding this see Giacomella Orofino, Sekoddeśa: A Critical Edition of the Tibetan Translations (Roma: Istituto Italiano per il Medio ed Estremo Oriente, 1994).

23. For example, the Abhidhāna, the legendary Cakrasamvara root text, supposedly consisted of one hundred thousand or more stanzas. Regarding this see Gray, The Cakrasamvara Tantra, 28-35.

24. Regarding the impact of the Buddhist-Muslim encounter in northern India on the Kālacakra tradition, see John Newman, “Islam in the Kālacakra Tantra,” Journal of the International Association of Buddhist Studies 21.2 (1998): 311-71.

25. Regarding the sexual practices described in the CS, see David Gray, The Cakrasamvara Tantra, 103-131. See also David Gray, “Disclosing the Empty Secret: Textuality and Embodiment in the Cakrasamvara Tantra,” Numen 52.4 (2005): 417-44.

26. For an introduction to the consecrations, see David Snellgrove, Indo-Tibetan Buddhism (London: Serindia Publications, 1987), 213–77.

27. In her discussion of this passage, Vesna Wallace points out that there is no clear passage in the Laghukālacakra Tantra or the Vimalaprabhā supporting Atīśa’s claim. On the other hand, there are passages in the Paramādibuddha Tantra and the Vimalaprabhā that contradict him, and describe monks and wandering ascetics receiving these consecrations and being offered consorts for the practice of sexual yoga. (See The Inner Kālacakratantra, p. 124.) This is certainly the case, but it is fascinating that Vajrapāṇi, as we shall see below, quotes a verse from the Paramādibuddha that addresses the related issue of consort practice.

28. Atīśa, Bodhipāthapradīpa, To. 3947, D fols. 240b–241a.

29. The term mudrā has many meanings, such as seal, stamp, gesture, and consort. In the context of tantric passages such as Vajrapāṇi’s below, I feel that “consort” is the best translation of this term. Regarding this see Jan Gonda, “Mudrā,” Studies in the History of Religions 12 (1972): 21–31.

30. See David Snellgrove, Indo-Tibetan Buddhism, 265–69.

31. The Sanskrit bhāvayet could be translated as “should give rise to” or “should meditate upon.” In the context of the root text, I use the former, following the Tibetan translation bya. However, the Tibetan translation of Vajrapāṇi’s text translates it as “should meditate upon,” bsgom par bya.

32. CS 1.7cd—my translation from my forthcoming edition.

33. While I normally translate bodhicitta as “spirit of awakening,” I translate it as seminal essence in contexts such as this, when it is used as a euphemism for male or female reproductive fluids.

34. My translation from the Sanskrit in Cicuzza, Laghutantraṭīkā, 123, and the Tibetan at To. 1402, D fol. 123b-124a.

35. Here and below I translate the Sanskrit paramākṣaraḥ following the Tibetan mchog tu mi ’gyur ba. This might also be translated as “the supreme syllable,” and in some contexts this compound refers to the syllable oṃ.

36. This translates the Sanskrit, dāyakī, rather than the Tibetan, ster bar byed pa mo, “she who bestows.”

37. My translation from the Sanskrit in Cicuzza, Laghutantraṭīkā, 123-24, and the Tibetan at To. 1402, D fol. 124a,b.

38. I presume that dhūmādinimitta refers to the eight signs seen during the dying process and visualized in some traditions of perfecting stage meditation. Regarding these signs see Robert Thurman, The Tibetan Book of the Dead (New York: Bantam Books, 1994), 42.

39. My translation from the Sanskrit in Cicuzza, Laghutantraṭīkā, 124, and the Tibetan at To. 1402, D fol. 124b-25a.

40. My translation from the Sanskrit in Cicuzza, Laghutantraṭīkā, 124, and the Tibetan at To. 1402, D fol. 125a.

41. See Cicuzza, Laghutantraṭīkā, 124, and the Tibetan at To. 1402, D fol. 125a.

42. I refer, for example, to the red and white food substances employed in the second consecration as a substitute for female and male sexual fluids.