Devasarman

The name Devasarman is derived from Sanskrit. "Deva" means divine or god, and "sarman" signifies protection, bliss, or joy. Thus, the name can be interpreted as "protected by the divine" or "divine bliss." The historical context places him approximately a century after Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha, suggesting a period of intense philosophical development in ancient India.

A very aneient author who died about a century after Gautama Buddha. He wrote two famous works, in which he denied the e.xistence of both Ego and non-E<jo, the one as successfully as the other.

The figure of Devasarman, as presented by Blavatsky, offers a potent, albeit enigmatic, counterpoint to the more familiar philosophical currents of ancient India. His purported denial of both ego and non-ego is a philosophical gambit of extraordinary boldness, a move that seems to dissolve the very ground upon which metaphysical inquiry typically stands. Mircea Eliade, in his studies of archaic thought, often highlighted the profound significance of concepts that transcend conventional dualities, suggesting that such radical negations can point towards a more fundamental, undifferentiated reality.

To deny the ego is a path familiar to many spiritual traditions, a necessary step in dismantling the illusions of selfhood that bind us. But to simultaneously deny the non-ego, the external world as we perceive it, is to push this negation to its absolute limit. This is not nihilism, but rather a profound assertion of a reality that is beyond all conceptualization, beyond the very categories of existence and non-existence that our minds impose. It suggests a state of being, or perhaps non-being, that cannot be grasped by intellectual means, a realm that perhaps only direct, unmediated experience can touch.

The challenge for the modern seeker is to engage with this radical proposition not as a dry philosophical abstraction, but as an invitation to scrutinize the very structure of our perception. What if the world we experience, with its solid objects and distinct selves, is itself a construct, a veil woven from our own cognitive processes? Devasarman's ancient voice, though faint through the mists of time, urges us to consider the possibility that the ultimate truth is not found in affirming or denying, but in transcending the very act of distinction. It is in the silent space between these impossible negations that a glimpse of the ineffable might be found.