Two marks, held together, are the whole of the test: a mind at rest in the Self, and no craving left at all.

Read as the mind's return to its own substrate, pure consciousness.

Shankara and Madhusudana read the resting mind as dissolving into what it always, underneath, already was. Madhusudana is exact about the mechanics: the inner instrument, cleared of restlessness and dullness, stands revealed as the conscious power alone once every movement has stopped, and nothing is actually lost in this, since the Self itself was never the thing in motion. 'Alone' carries the sense of non-duality, an all-Self-ness with nothing left over to want, since wanting requires a second thing to want.

Read as rest made possible by a prior, singular devotion.

Ramanuja's extant word on this verse is brief but exact in its order: the mind fixes and stops moving because nothing besides the Self any longer holds any higher purpose for it, and the freedom from craving that follows is the consequence of that rest, not a separate discipline pursued alongside it. Rest comes first; the emptying out of wanting grows from it.

A brief fragment, honestly held apart from later elaboration.

What survives of Madhva's comment on this verse is a single short line, that the mind comes to rest in the self, too spare to support a developed reading placed confidently in his own voice. What can honestly be said is that his framework, built on a permanent distinction between the finite self and the Lord, would resist any reading of this rest as merger with the Supreme. That guard is made explicit in later Dvaita sub-commentary, and it is presented here as belonging to that later voice, not smuggled into Madhva's own terse line.

A brief fragment; a fuller reading offered only as marked extrapolation.

Abhinavagupta's surviving remark here is likewise short: a note on the word 'when' as marking a precise threshold, and the observation that this yogin's mark is a mind fixed on the self, longing for nothing at all. A fuller Kashmir Shaiva reading, treating the rest as recognition of consciousness's own inherent freedom rather than absorption into a separate ground, would extend naturally from his broader system, but it is offered here explicitly as an extension beyond what this fragment itself develops.

Read as the plain, testable answer to a practitioner's real question.

Sridhara frames the verse as answering exactly the question a sincere practitioner asks: when does my yoga actually count as accomplished? He takes both marks at their ordinary sense, available to your own honest reflection rather than requiring a technical metaphysics first, and adds a note from experience: when outward action is governed by measured, regulated means, inner happiness expands on its own, and the seat of liberation is reached not as a distant reward but as something that grows naturally out of disciplined, ordinary living.

Read as a claim about attention and insight, not willpower.

Drawing on Madhusudana's careful distinctions, a modern-facing reading emphasizes that what stops here is the mind's restless movement toward objects, and that the craving dries up because its causes, the imagined worth of the object, have genuinely been seen through. This reframes the verse away from an act of suppressed willpower and toward something closer to insight: you stop wanting what you have actually, clearly seen cannot give you what you were asking of it.