Sanskrit Terms Starting with C

Chakora (spelled cakora in scholarly transliteration) occupies a place in classical Indian literature and mythology rather than yoga practice per se.

According to legend, the chakora is enamored with the moon (Chandra) and will only drink the rays of the moon for sustenance.

This has made it a symbol of unrequited love or eternal longing – often used by poets to describe lovers.

In spiritual poetry, a devotee might be likened to a chakora and the deity or guru to the moon – illustrating intense devotion.

In terms of yogic symbolism, if we stretch interpretation, the moon often represents the mind or cool spiritual light (as in Hatha yoga, sun and moon represent two energies), and the chakora’s ceaseless fixation on the moon could be seen as the ideal one-pointed focus (on the divine or one’s chosen ideal).

But practically, you won’t find “cakora pose” or anything.

Sometimes Ayurvedic texts or alchemical poetry mention exotic concepts like the chakora bird’s qualities, but largely it remains a cultural motif.

Knowing it simply enriches one’s understanding of spiritual metaphors: should you encounter a line like “be as the chakora pines for the moon in your love for truth,” you’ll know it means to cultivate that kind of single-minded, passionate pursuit of the higher Self or God.

Candra Bhedana (with candra meaning moon, bhedana meaning piercing or passing through) emphasizes activation of the Ida nadi (left energy channel, lunar in nature).

Classical Hatha Yoga texts like the Gheranda Samhita describe Surya Bhedana (inhale right, exhale left) to increase inner heat, and by inversion, Candra Bhedana is inhale left, exhale right for a cooling effect.

The left nostril breathing draws in lunar, cooling prana, and the right nostril release lets out any excess heat or energetic tension.

This pranayama is particularly useful in states of agitation, high blood pressure, or pitta (heat) imbalance.

One might practice it in the evening or after a vigorous yoga session to induce a state of calm.

There is also a practice called Chandra Anuloma Viloma which is a variant of alternate-nostril breathing heavily favoring the left channel, effectively a repeated Candra Bhedana.

From an esoteric perspective, consistent practice of Candra Bhedana can activate introspective, cooling energies and prepare the mind for meditation.

“Piercing the moon” symbolically suggests accessing the soma (nectar) and bliss of the sahasrara (crown) chakra – as the moon is often connected to divine nectar (amrita) that drips from bindu.

Thus, Candra Bhedana is more than a temperature adjuster; it’s balancing the Ha-Tha (Sun-Moon) of Hatha, specifically strengthening the tha (moon) aspect to promote tranquility and inward focus.

Catur (sometimes written as chatur, since the “cha” sound is spelled with ca in IAST) is the numeral 4 in Sanskrit.

It changes form based on grammatical context (e.g., caturthah = fourth).

In classical lists, four is a common significant number – four Vedas, four ashramas (stages of life), four aims of life (purusharthas), etc.

Yoga’s cosmology also likes fours: for instance, some Upanishads talk about the four states of consciousness (waking, dreaming, deep sleep, and turiya).

Recognizing catur in composite words helps decode meaning.

Caturyuga means the four ages (Satya, Treta, Dvapara, Kali Yugas).

Chatur-mukha means four-faced (like Brahma is Chaturmukha Brahma).

In yoga practice, one might encounter Chatur pada bandha (four-foot lock, a balancing on all fours) or a phrase like caturvyuha in philosophy (four-fold manifestation).

In summary, catur is a straightforward term, but it reminds us how Sanskrit packs numerical significance into compound terms.

It’s akin to knowing “quad” means four in English compounds.

So when you hear Chatur at the start of a pose or concept, you can anticipate something to do with the number four is going on, grounding that term in a quantitative aspect.

Caturdaśa (with ś for the “sha” sound) is simply the number 14 in Sanskrit enumeration.

It shows up in compound concepts like Chaturdasa Vidya sthana (the fourteen abodes of knowledge – basically the classical categorization of knowledge systems, including the four Vedas, six Vedangas, Puranas, etc.).

Another common reference is Chaturdasa bhuvana or Chaturdasa loka meaning the fourteen worlds or realms of existence – a concept from Puranic cosmology dividing the universe into seven higher and seven lower planes.

In Ayurveda, sometimes they mention chaturdasa herbs or components in complex formulations.

While not directly a yoga practice term, knowing Sanskrit numbers is useful if you delve into Sanskrit texts.

Caturdasa basically helps you count or identify list items (e.g., “the fourteen lokas” as mentioned).

It also highlights how Sanskrit forms numbers: combining dasa with a prefix for 11–19 (ekadasha 11, dvadasha 12, trayodasha 13, caturdasha 14, etc.).

For a yogi reading scriptures, when you see -dasa, think “teen” (as in fourteen).

So caturdasa anchors the presence of an extended list or classification that hits fourteen – often implying a comprehensive or cosmic scale enumeration.

Chakra (pronounced “chuh-kra” with a soft ch) literally is “wheel” or “circle”.

In the context of kundalini and Tantra, chakras are nodal points in the sushumna nadi (central energy channel) where various nadis intersect, often depicted as whirling lotuses with a certain number of petals.

The classical source for the chakra system is the Shat Chakra Nirupana and other tantric texts, which give detailed symbolism: e.g., Manipura Chakra at the navel is a ten-petaled lotus, yellow, associated with fire element, RAM mantra, and qualities of power and transformation.

While Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras don’t mention chakras, many modern yoga systems integrate chakra theory as a map of inner experience—from basic instincts (Muladhara) to creativity (Svadhishthana), will (Manipura), love (Anahata), expression (Vishuddha), intuition (Ajna), and transcendence (Sahasrara).

Each chakra corresponds to nerve plexuses and endocrine glands as well, bridging subtle and gross.

A blocked chakra in yogic metaphor might mean one has issues related to that center’s domain (e.g., difficulty speaking one’s truth could be a throat chakra imbalance).

Practices like asana, pranayama, mantra, and visualization are used to activate or soothe chakras.

It’s important to note chakras are not literally visible or physical, but many practitioners subjectively feel sensations where the chakras are said to be.

Ultimately, chakras provide a framework for understanding how prana flows in the body and how certain spiritual or psychological states cluster.

When someone’s “chakras are balanced,” it implies a harmonious functioning of their whole being – energy flows freely like wheels turning smoothly, connecting earthly life to spiritual consciousness.

Chakra Bhedana (cakra-bhedana) comes from bhedana meaning piercing or breaking through.

In Kundalini Yoga and some tantric texts, the journey of kundalini shakti from Muladhara to Sahasrara is often described as piercing the granthis (knots) and chakras – which are like gates that need opening.

Shat Chakra Bhedana is mentioned as the method of piercing the six chakras to awaken kundalini.

Techniques might involve intense pranayama (like a form of kapalabhati or bhastrika), bandhas, and visualization.

For example, one might do ujjayi breathing and mentally guide the prana with a mantra through each chakra, dissolving any blockage at that level (thus “bhedana”).

When chakras are “pierced,” it means energy is freely flowing through them, potentially giving rise to spiritual experiences or siddhis (abilities) associated with those chakras.

Chakra Bhedana is essentially the internal work of Hatha Yoga aimed at complete purification of the sushumna nadi.

It requires great concentration and usually a guru’s guidance because forcing energy through can be destabilizing if not ready.

Some modern classes might refer to a “chakra meditation” which is a gentle form of chakra bhedana (simply focusing one by one), but hardcore chakra bhedana implies a real breakthrough, not just a casual scan.

Symbolically, it represents overcoming the limitations of each level of consciousness – from gross instincts to subtle unity.

By piercing all chakras, the yogi transcends worldly fetters and experiences paramananda (supreme bliss) in the crown.

It’s the archetypal roadmap of spiritual ascent in the tantric yoga paradigm.

Chandra (with no diacritic, just a short a) is not only the physical Moon but also symbolizes the mind and the reflective principle in Indian lore.

In Jyotish (Vedic astrology), Chandra is the Moon deity governing emotions and motherly nourishment.

In Hatha Yoga, ha means sun and tha means moon – the very name “Hatha” implies balancing solar and lunar energies.

Chandra represents the tha aspect: cooling, introspective, and restorative.

Poses or practices labeled “Chandra” often aim to activate the parasympathetic nervous response (relaxation).

For instance, Chandra Bhedana pranayama – left-nostril breathing – is specifically to imbue the system with lunar coolness.

Mythologically, Chandra rides a chariot across the night sky and is associated with soma (the divine nectar), implying that moonlight is nourishing.

In the subtle body, the bindu point (source of nectar) is sometimes called Chandra Kendra.

Many yogic calendars also revolve around lunar phases (e.g., avoiding practice on new/full moons in Ashtanga tradition).

Philosophically, Surya (sun) is often equated with atman/Purusha (soul or consciousness) and Chandra (moon) equated with mind/Prakriti – because the moon has no light of its own, it reflects the sun, just as the mind reflects consciousness.

So Chandra’s role in yoga is significant: it reminds us of the reflective, passive power in practice.

We balance doing (sun) with being (moon).

A practical example: an evening yoga session might favor Chandra namaskars, longer holds, and forward bends to harness lunar energy for winding down.

Thus, Chandra encapsulates an essential half of yogic balance – the cool to the hot, the soft to the hard, the yin to the yang, ensuring our practice and life cycle through phases just as the moon does.

Chandra Anuloma-Viloma can be translated as “with the grain (anuloma) and against the grain (viloma) of the moon,” implying a regulated pattern favoring the left nostril.

In classical pranayama terms, Anuloma Viloma is another name for Nadi Shodhana (alternate nostril breath).

By prefacing it with Chandra, we indicate biasing the Ida nadi (left channel).

There are a couple of ways this is taught:

(1) The gentle approach – always inhale left, exhale right (which is essentially Chandra Bhedana repeated) for a set of rounds, then perhaps balance with a normal alternate cycle or two.

(2) The continuous left-nostril breathing (inhale left, exhale left) for a period, which some modern teachers refer to as Chandra Anuloma.

However, the most cited method is the first – left-in, right-out repeatedly.

Scientific studies (as indicated in yoga therapy research) have shown that left-nostril breathing activates the parasympathetic nervous system (reducing heart rate, blood pressure, etc.).

Thus, Chandra Anuloma Viloma is prescribed for anxiety, hypertension, or anytime one needs to induce mental calm and cooling energy.

In Ayurveda terms, it reduces pitta (heat) and perhaps calms vata if anxiety is present.

One might practice it in the evening or after a heated asana session to rebalance.

Energetically, it allows lunar prana to dominate, which can also enhance introspection and meditative absorption.

It’s a beautiful example of how specific pranayama techniques can tilt our internal balance toward either energizing or relaxing – here it is relaxing, under the gentle light of the inner moon.

Chandra Bhedana (Moon-piercing) by inhaling through the left nostril and exhaling via the right nostril channels lunar energy (Ida nadi) and releases solar energy (Pingala nadi).

This practice, as described, is identical to Candra Bhedana – the difference in spelling arises from transliteration (Chandra is more intuitive English spelling, Candra is precise IAST).

In Sanskrit, there’s no separate letter for ‘ch’ versus ‘c’ – both represent the च sound.

So, someone listing terms might list both Candra Bhedana and Chandra Bhedana to ensure clarity for readers used to either spelling.

The technique and effects remain as previously discussed: it’s cooling, reduces excess heat or agitation, and is ideally done in a measured ratio (common instruction: inhale left 4 counts, exhale right 8 counts, for instance, to prolong the exhale and deepen relaxation).

One could say that by “piercing the moon,” you are tapping into the soma (nectar) of the moon – metaphorically bringing a nectar-like cooling tranquility into your being.

It’s particularly useful in hot climates, before bed, or after dynamic exercise.

In a yogic subtle sense, consistent practice of Chandra Bhedana can help balance an overactive Pingala (which might manifest as too much drive, irritability, or excess internal heat).

Yogis learn to play with these solar-lunar, heating-cooling techniques to self-regulate.

So, whether you call it Candra or Chandra, the moon breath is an essential tool in the pranayama toolkit for nurturing calmness and mental clarity.

Caturaṅga Daṇḍāsana (full name) is a foundational pose in Ashtanga Vinyasa and flows like Sun Salutations.

Etymologically, chatur + anga = four limbs, danda = staff.

It underscores that the body, held straight and firm, resembles a rod or staff supported by hands and feet (the four limbs).

Chaturanga requires considerable core and arm strength, as well as technique to protect the shoulder joints (hugging elbows to ribs).

Historically, the term chaturanga also appears outside of yoga – it was the name of an ancient Indian board game (precursor to chess, meaning four parts referring to four divisions of the military).

In the context of yoga asana, Chaturanga Dandasana is relatively modern (no evidence of it in medieval texts explicitly) but was likely inspired by the physical culture push-up position.

It became codified through Krishnamacharya’s lineage (it’s clearly in Pattabhi Jois’s sequences and Iyengar’s Light on Yoga).

Properly executed, it builds stability for arm balances and is a gateway to poses like crow or handstand preparation.

Energetically, Chaturanga strengthens the manipura chakra region (core/willpower) and teaches discipline – one must resist gravity with determination.

The phrase “take a chaturanga” in class has become shorthand for a mini-pushup in vinyasa flows (some people colloquially use “chaturanga” as a verb, e.g., “then chaturanga to Up Dog”).

When learning it, modifications like knees-down or doing it against a wall are used to develop strength without strain.

In summary, Chaturanga is both a count (four) and a core part of dynamic yoga practice, epitomizing strength and the principle of steady foundation (four limbs) supporting the spine (staff).

It’s essentially the yogi’s push-up, but executed with mindful alignment and breath.

Cit (spelled with a c but pronounced like “chit”) is a crucial concept in Vedanta.

It’s one of the three qualities of Brahman: sat (absolute being), cit (absolute consciousness), and ānanda (absolute bliss).

Cit is that by which the presence of anything is known – the underlying field of awareness.

In Sankhya/Yoga terms, purusha (spirit) is basically cit – the silent seer.

Often cit is distinguished from vrittis (mental waves) in that cit is the light that illumines the vrittis, but isn’t the content of them.

In the Upanishads, there’s a statement “prajñānam brahma” (Consciousness is Brahman), underscoring that pure consciousness (cit) is identical with the ultimate reality.

Some teachings anthropomorphize cit as Cit-Shakti, the feminine power of consciousness that dwells in the crown chakra, or as the substratum of the mind.

When one experiences deep meditation (nirvikalpa samadhi), one rests in cit – awareness without object.

In everyday sadhana, cultivating chit might mean cultivating chitta-vritti-nirodha, the cessation of thoughts so that pure consciousness shines forth.

Also noteworthy, in philosophies like Kashmir Shaivism, chit is often used interchangeably with Chiti or Chit-Shakti, the dynamic aspect of consciousness that manifests as the universe.

But at its core, understanding cit helps a yogi reframe their identity: “I am not the changing body or mind, I am cit – pure consciousness.”

It’s the drashta (seer) in the Yoga Sutras.

A practical reflection: when one sits in meditation and notices thoughts coming and going, the continuous factor – the aware principle noticing – is one’s cit.

Realizing oneself as that cit (rather than as the thoughts) is a major step in enlightenment across various yoga traditions.

Citta (चित्त) in classical yoga encompasses what we might break down into subconscious, conscious, and unconscious aspects of mind.

It’s composed of manas (the lower mind that processes sensory data and produces thoughts), ahamkara (the ego-maker that personalizes experiences as “mine”), and buddhi (the higher intellect/discernment).

Citta is like a lake; vrittis (thought waves) are ripples on its surface, and samskaras (latent impressions) are sediments in its depths.

When the lake of citta is still, it reflects purusha (pure consciousness) clearly.

Patanjali’s famous aphorism “Yogaś citta-vṛtti-nirodhaḥ” highlights that the aim is to stop or calm down those ripples so the true Self can be seen.

Citta is sometimes translated as “heart-mind” because it’s not purely intellectual; it includes emotional and memory aspects too (in Buddhism, citta often is rendered as heart-mind).

Techniques like meditation, mantra, etc., are means of cleaning and steadying the citta.

The antahkarana (inner instrument) theory identifies citta as the storehouse of impressions – modern analogy: if brain is hardware, citta is like the mind’s software plus data storage.

A well-known concept is citta prasadanam (making the citta clear or pleasant) by cultivating attitudes of friendliness, compassion, joy, and equanimity.

This underscores that citta isn’t just to be stilled, but also purified and harmonized.

Importantly, citta is not the atman; it’s matter (prakriti) in a subtle form.

When you achieve nirvikalpa samadhi, citta is temporarily dissolved or goes dormant, revealing purusha.

But until then, all experiences of daily life happen in the citta.

Understanding this helps a yogi dis-identify a bit: “My thoughts (citta-vrittis) are not my true Self, they are patterns in the citta.”

And yoga practice is largely about transforming and mastering the citta.

The sutra (1.33) reads in Sanskrit: maitrī-karuṇā-muditā-upekṣāṇāṁ sukha-duḥkha-puṇya-apuṇya-viṣayāṇāṁ bhāvanātaḥ citta-prasādanam.

It means: by cultivating attitudes of friendliness (maitri) toward the happy, compassion (karuna) toward the suffering, gladness (mudita) toward the virtuous, and equanimity (upeksha) toward the non-virtuous, the citta becomes prasādanam.

Prasādanam implies clarity, graciousness, or literally “being favorably disposed.”

It’s as if the mind becomes like clear water – it’s pleasant and can reflect reality without distortion.

This concept is crucial because it provides a practical psychology in the Yoga Sutras: rather than directly grappling with a disturbed mind, Patanjali suggests an indirect method – cultivate these four attitudes (often called the brahmaviharas in Buddhism) and the byproduct is citta prasadanam.

In effect, negative emotions that disturb the mind (like jealousy, anger, dislike) are countered by consciously generating their antidotes (friendliness, compassion, etc.), leading to mental peace.

A mind in citta prasadanam is considered an optimal starting point for meditation, because it’s balanced and not easily perturbed.

Vyasa’s commentary explains that in such a serene mind, distractions are minimized, making progress toward samadhi smoother.

In a modern sense, one could equate citta prasadanam with psychological well-being or even coherence in heart-brain terms.

It’s interesting that Patanjali placed this instruction in the Samadhi Pada, implying even at the outset of yoga journey, managing relationships and attitudes is key to inner stillness.

So whenever your mind is restless or sour, remember Sutra 1.33 – practice those four attitudes and you are effectively doing citta-prasādana practice, polishing the mirror of the mind so it becomes tranquil and clear.