Differing Fault-Finding Mindset with ‘Grantha, Guru, and Sastra’ >>>>> Avadhana Prucchakas Display Masterclass Grace : By Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 Differing Fault-Finding Mindset 

With ‘Grantha, Guru, and Sastra’

Avadhana Prucchakas Display Masterclass Grace

By Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

In a recent discourse on the third chapter of the Shrimad Bhagavad Gita, Brahmasri Kuppa Viswanatha Sharma referred to a profound spiritual principle: ‘Granthe Gurau Ca Shastre Ca Na Ca Karya Dosabuddhih Vipascita; Trtiyam Na Ca Kartavyaṁ.’  This timeless verse from traditional Indian pedagogical wisdom, serves as a sharp psychological mirror for modern fault-finders and doubting Thomases. The verse is a warning against the destructive nature of habitual scepticism, observing that, a wise person should never harbour fault-finding intellect toward holy texts, teacher, and scriptures. However, in contrast, Avadhana Prucchakas display Masterclass Grace by never humiliating, confronting, and exposing the Avadhani.

Breaking this down into its philosophical connection to modern psychology, the ancient text directly anticipates the contemporary understanding of cognitive distortions and confirmation bias. This traditional, ancient verse serves as a reminder for modern individuals, advising against approaching books, teachers, or sacred knowledge with a mindset that solely seeks out faults. A truly wise person is cautioned against making the mistake of constant, cynical judgment, as searching only for errors prevents one from gaining valuable insights or wisdom.

The shloka addresses the wise, intellectually mature individual. A true writer or reader traditionally approaches knowledge with humility. However, when everyone wants to speak and nobody wants to listen, things develop different. Of late authors suffer from jealousy (Asuya, the opposite of Anasuya or virtue), which means they cannot tolerate others’ excellence. To elevate their own work, they weaponize fault-finding marketing strategy. They review rival texts not to learn, but to systematically deconstruct and defame them.

This shloka advises that wise individuals should never adopt the fault-finding attitude toward texts, gurus, or scriptures. It emphasizes avoiding cynical perspective on these three, suggesting that such criticism is a significant mistake for the learned person, ensuring personal and academic growth. When a person approaches learning with deeply ingrained fault-finding mindset (Dosabuddhih), their brain actively filters out wisdom, growth, and nuance, focusing exclusively on perceived flaws to validate their pre-existing cynicism.

Modern psychology labels this as a hyper-critical defensive mechanism or a scarcity mindset. This psychology leads to hyper-fixating on errors and thus prevents the individual from absorbing actual value or building trustful, mentoring relationships. By advising the seeker, the verse encourages them to drop this cynical barrier when engaging with teachers (Guru) and foundational knowledge (Granthe). Psychologists today call it a growth mindset, or a state of psychological openness, intellectual humility, and radical receptivity that allows true cognitive restructuring, emotional maturity, and deep learning to take place.

The verse warns against committing the fatal third mistake (Trtiyam) of extending cynical evaluation to sacred systems of knowledge, an error which closes the door to intellectual growth before the journey even begins. When one approaches knowledge, teachers, or institutions merely to validate his or her own scepticism, their intellect filters out wisdom and retains only trivia. Objective commentary reveals that Dosabuddhih is not rigorous critical thinking, but rather an ego-driven defense mechanism that mistakes habitual cynicism for intelligence.

True maturity lies in discerning the core essence (Tattva) of a teaching without getting derailed by superficial, human imperfections. For those trapped in perpetual doubt, this shloka demands a shift from arrogant fault-finding to receptive inquiry, proving that a closed mind hurts nobody but the seeker. In our current world, many mistake perpetual scepticism for intelligence, but this teaching reveals that such a critical mindset actually acts as a barrier to personal growth and understanding. True wisdom involves looking beyond superficial flaws to appreciate the deeper value within people and teachings.

Ultimately, this advice urges to replace harsh, arrogant criticism with an open and receptive mind, which is essential for learning and personal development. This modern shift perfectly mirrors the exact crisis of the intellect that the ancient shloka warns against. When the ratio of writers to readers flips, literature ceases to be a pursuit of truth and instead becomes a marketplace for egos.

In an age dominated by instant call-outs, digital takedowns, and an eagerness to find flaws in the work of others, a profound lesson in intellectual maturity comes from a centuries-old literary sport, an extraordinarily unique, superhuman game of multiple concentration, poetic improvisation, and mental mathematics, known as Avadhana. While its roots trace back to Sanskrit antiquity, Avadhana thrives today as an exclusive, living crown jewel of the Telugu and Sanskrit literary traditions.

At its core, Avadhana is an intense exercise in Dharana, or the extraordinary power of undivided retention. During a performance, a single scholar, the Avadhani, sits facing a panel of sharp, equally highly learned questioners known as Prucchakas. Depending on the scale, the performer might tackle eight questioners (Ashtavadhana), one hundred (Shatavadhana), or even a staggering one thousand tasks simultaneously (Sahasravadhana).

The Prucchakas bombard the Avadhani with complex challenges. The Avadhani cannot write anything down, and instead should rely entirely on the pristine architecture of their mind to craft flawless verses, line by single line, using an atypical jugglery of placement of words in the verses across multiple rounds. Though there was a time when masters of this tradition were numerous, Avadhana faced a moderate decline not in quality but in numbers of Avadhanis.

Enthusiastic revivalists, led by Marumamula Dathathreya Sharma have been actively rejuvenating Avadhana Vidya (Education) by training, mentoring, and encouraging new generation of young prodigies. This has breathed fresh life into the tradition, witnessing breathtaking performances from brilliant children as young as seven to seasoned masters over seventy years old. The true magic and real beauty of Avadhana, however, lies not just in the performer's cognitive brilliance, but by and large in the profound behavioural code practiced by the expert Prucchakas.

While every Avadhani almost always delivers a flawless performance, human nature dictates that a minor slip or an inadvertent yet negligible error might occasionally occur in these massive marathons of memory. When this happens, the Prucchakas display a standard of grace that serves as a masterclass for modern critics. They never, come what may, openly humiliate, confront, or aggressively expose the Avadhani. Instead, they choose a path of radical positive reinforcement, celebrating the massive cognitive triumph unfolding before them.

If a mistake must be addressed, it is subtly nudged forward as a constructive suggestion for improvement, safeguarding the dignity of both the artist and the art form. This masterclass mindset, as well as the beautiful, protective approach that bridges Avadhana with the ancient wisdom of Anasuya, undoubtedly is the perfect physical manifestation of the classical dictum: ‘Granthe Gurau Ca Shastre Ca Na Ca Karya Dosabuddhih Vipascita; Trtiyam Na Ca Kartavyaṁ.’ 

This ancient maxim warns that a truly wise person must never approach a book, teacher, or a science with an ego-driven mind that hunts strictly for faults. The Prucchakas embody this perfectly. They do not sit around the Avadhani to satisfy a cynical urge to catch a master tripping. they sit there to co-create a monument of human capability. When we read a book, evaluate a piece of literature, or interact with a peer's creation, we are faced with a choice.  We can either act like toxic internet trolls, hunting for a minor typo or an imperfect phrasing to invalidate an entire body of work, or we can choose the noble path of the Prucchaka.

True critical reading is not about tearing down an author to make oneself feel superior. It is about Guna-Buddhi, which means actively seeking the virtues, the wisdom, and the core truth (Tattva) hidden within the text, while offering a gentle, supportive space for minor human imperfections. By shifting the perspective from cynical fault-finding to appreciative learning, one doesn't just become better reader, but preserve the sacred, encouraging environment required for wisdom to flourish. Anasuya, the Right Attitude, not High Knowledge, that is important.