A _Jnaníndra_ is called one of the Brahmans of Kachmir;[152] this class is, in the language of Kachmir, entitled _Guruvagurinah_, and said to be the fathers of the Jnanían. One whose name was Chívarína, knew well how to keep in his breath; one day he informed the inhabitants of Náu chaher, which is upon the road of Kashmír, that on the morrow he intended to leave his human frame. The next day, the people assembled; Shívarina conversed with them until he arrived at the place where wood had been piled up, on the top of which he sat down with his legs crossed under him (which in the Persian language is called _bahín neshisten_, and the description of which I gave in the chapter about the imprisonment of breath practised by the Yezdaníán); he left then the human body, and when the people saw that the bird of life had taken his flight from the cage of the body, they set the wood on fire. Another Jnani practised the subduing of the breath in his youth, and, mastering his soul by means of religious austerity, he attained to that point that, although possessed of little natural capacity, he undertook to read all the books of the Hindus, and understood all their sciences better than the other Pandits, as they all agreed. He now holds the first rank among the learned of his town, and acquired such an independent manner of thinking, that he feels neither pain from the loss, nor pleasure from the increase, of wealth, and holds alike friend, enemy, stranger, and relation; he is not depressed by the insult, nor elated by the praise of whomsoever; wherever he hears the name of a Durvísh, he calls on him, and, if he conceives a good opinion of him, he then frequents him and cultivates his friendship, and never lets him be afflicted and sorrowful; he converses about God’s unity, and cares about nothing else nor busies himself about any other concern, and he visits no other persons but Durvishes. Sodarshan is the name of his sister’s son, who is also connected with him as his pupil; he left wife, son, and the house of this friend, and lives on the little which his disciples bring to him. When the Jnaní wishes to go out, the disciple puts his coat on him: because, inattentive to every thing exterior and to what may be grateful about him, he is never occupied with any thing else but with books.