With Pasūra

“Here alone is purity,” they say, denying that there is purification in other teachings. Speaking of the beauty in that which they depend on, each one is dogmatic about their own idiosyncratic interpretation.

Desiring debate, they plunge into an assembly, where each takes the other as a fool. Relying on others they state their contention, desiring praise while claiming to be skilled.

Addicted to debating in the midst of the assembly, their need for praise makes them nervous. But when they’re repudiated they get embarrassed; upset at criticism, they find fault in others.

If their doctrine is said to be weak, and judges declare it repudiated, the loser weeps and wails, moaning, “They beat me.”

When these disputes come up among ascetics, they get excited or dejected. Seeing this, refrain from contention, for the only purpose is praise and profit.

But if, having declared their doctrine, they are praised there in the midst of the assembly, they laugh and gloat because of it, having got what they wanted.

Their pride is their downfall, yet they speak from conceit and arrogance. Seeing this, one ought not dispute, for those who are skilled say this is no way to purity.

As a warrior, after feasting on royal food, goes roaring, looking for someone to fight—go off and find an opponent, Sūra, for here, as before, there is no one to combat.

When someone disputes about a view they’ve adopted, saying, “This is the only truth,” say to them, “Here you’ll have no adversary when a dispute has come up.”

There are those who live far from the crowd, not countering views with view. Who is there to argue with you, Pasūra, among those who grasp nothing here as the highest?

And so you come along speculating, thinking up theories in your mind. Now that you’ve challenged someone who is cleansed, you’ll not be able to respond.