
When approaching the study of Jyotiṣa in a serious way, one of the questions that comes up most often is this: do Parāśara and Jaimini represent two different astrological systems, or do they belong to the same school?
The question, as it is phrased, is already very revealing. It is a legitimate question, but it almost always arises from a modern, Western mindset, in which “system” means an autonomous method, tied to an author, a personal vision, a kind of intellectual property.
In Vedic culture, however, the concept of “system” is profoundly different. Knowledge does not arise from the individual, but from a revelation transmitted, guarded and refined through a paramparā, a living chain of teaching. This clarification is crucial, because if we read Parāśara and Jaimini with categories that do not belong to their culture, we risk asking the right questions in the wrong language.
If we instead enter the perspective of tradition, the answer is very clear.
The concept of Argalā, for example, we find in both. We find it in Parāśara, in the Bṛhat Parāśara Horā Śāstra, in a specific chapter called Argalā Adhyāya. And we also find it in Jaimini, in the Jaimini Upadeśa Sūtra, right from the first chapter. Jaimini starts right away with the Argalā, while Parāśara gets to deal with them later, beyond chapter 30.
This is already a first significant element.
In the tradition that passes down both teachings, Parāśara and Jaimini are not two separate systems. They do not arise in different periods, they do not represent competing schools, they do not offer alternative views of Vedic astrology. They are part of the same astrological system, transmitted within the same line of knowledge. Jaimini is a disciple of Parāśara, and in his sūtras he continually refers to themes already expressed by the master.
What changes is not the vision but the mode of transmission.
Parāśara writes in śloka, articulate, descriptive, explanatory Sanskrit verses. Jaimini writes in sūtra, extremely concise, dense, compressed aphorisms. This is not a difference in content, but in literary genre.
It is a bit like the difference between reading Bhagavad-gītā and reading Patañjali's Yoga Sūtra. In the verses of the Bhagavad-gītā Kṛṣṇa makes concepts explicit: even without a commentary, reading carefully, something comes through. Sūtras, on the other hand, are like a physics or mathematics formulary: if you don't already know the subject, you won't understand it.
The physics book is for gradual learning. The formulary is for those who already know and just need to reactivate what they have studied. The sūtras work exactly like this.
Therefore, the idea that Jaimini created a separate astrological system from his sūtras is, from the perspective of tradition, misplaced. Sūtras are not born to be self-sufficient. They require a commentary, a context, a living transmission. And this context is already present in Parāśara.
Here a central point emerges, which is worth making clear: when would Jaimini, a disciple of Parāśara, take the trouble to say “I invented my own system”?
This is a Western, not a Vedic, mental category. In Vedic culture, knowledge is never attributed to the ego of the author. One does not say “this is my theory,” but “this is the knowledge received from the masters.” Individual authorship is not the focus of knowledge; transmission is.
Those who study within a paramparā perceive this naturally. Those looking from the outside, with different cultural categories, may not immediately grasp this.
And this is precisely where the history of modern astrology, especially in the West, comes in.
In the 1960s and 1970s, a group of Western astrologers, mainly American, began to travel to India and make contact with the Jyotiṣa. At the same time, some great Indian astrologers-such as Raman and others-began to write astrology texts in English. This makes the Jyotiṣa accessible to an audience that until then had remained substantially excluded from it.
The West's first encounter with the Jyotiṣa thus comes through books, through individual study, through a dialogue with Western astrology. Many good things come out of this: associations, schools, research groups. For example, the American College of Vedic Astrology (ACVA) and the Council of Vedic Astrology (CVA), among the first major American associations, were born, with well-known figures participating. Over time, as is often the case, there have been splits, new associations, new orientations, and now there is a very rich landscape of realities worldwide.
This process is not to be judged, but understood. It is not “right” or “wrong”: it is a change in the vector of knowledge. Oral, initiatory transmission is progressively joined-and sometimes replaced-by editorial, academic, self-taught transmission. In this transition, inevitably, reinterpretations, adaptations, misunderstandings arise. But also people who seek the root and essence of Astrology by other means.
Many Western authors have entered Jyotiṣa by reading texts, studying techniques, experimenting and then bringing this knowledge back to their own cultural context. In this process, some questions-such as the one about Parāśara and Jaimini-arise spontaneously. But these are questions that would hardly arise within a paramparā, because the context of reference is different.
This brings us to the theme of paramparā, which is central but often misunderstood.
Paramparā is not a dogma, nor is it an automatic guarantee of truth. It does not mean that “if it is traditional then it is right” and “if it is not then it is wrong.” Above all, paramparā is a framework of accountability. It is a framework that limits interpretive arbitrariness, that creates continuity, and that allows each teaching to be placed within a recognizable form.
There are many paramparās of Vedic Astrology, not just one. Some are still alive. Others have been, unfortunately, lost over time. Each may have different emphases, specializations, special revelations. Some techniques may have been transmitted openly, others not. In the past, astrology was not shared with the masses. The astrologer was a brāhmaṇa, and “seeing karma” also meant seeing delicate things: future events, weaknesses, sensitive points in a person's chart. Without ethics, this power can be misused, to create bonding instead of creating freedom.
That is why, in Yoga delle Stelle's Academy training, we insist so much that astrology should be a tool for growth and evolution, not for shock, fear or manipulation.
Now that the study deepens, for school students, and the foundation becomes more solid, it is natural to explore other texts, other authors, other traditions. Exploration is good. I love to explore, too. But along with curiosity, discernment must grow.
Discerning does not mean excluding. It means knowing how to place knowledge and give it its proper weight. Not everything is on the same plane. Understanding what is Vedic, what belongs to a paramparā, or what originates in another context, what is modern experimentation means having important categories of reference to orient ourselves in a vast world. The risk, otherwise, is that of the “cauldron”: everything on the same level, everything mixed, everything equivalent. But putting everything on the same level is not openness; it is loss of orientation. One gets lost easily.
One example is Tājika astrology, an Indian system that mixes Vedic astrology with techniques of Persian origin, with Hellenistic and Arabic influences. It is not Vedic, it does not belong to our paramparā, but it can be studied, tested, understood. The important thing is to give it the correct category.
This is, in my opinion, a truly scientific approach: open, but orderly. Curious, but with clear criteria. That's what paramparās are for: shaping knowledge, not imprisoning it. They serve to give the ability to discern.
In conclusion, in our paramparā, Parāśara and Jaimini are one. Not two systems, but two languages of the same vision. Jaimini may emphasize some aspects, Parāśara others, but everything in Jaimini is already present in Parāśara. Not surprisingly, commentators on Jaimini continually quote verses from Parāśara. It is natural to make the parallels.
The difference is not between two astrological schools, but between two ways of transmitting knowledge:
- śloka verses explaining the message
- the sūtras that condense it into formulas
And sūtras, by their nature, do not exist without commentary. To study Jaimini without commentary is to open the door to arbitrary interpretations and invented systems, which do not belong to the traditional way of transmitting knowledge.
This is a way of exploring that allows openness without confusion, respect without relativism, depth without rigidity. And it is, in my feeling, one of the most precious gifts that tradition can offer even to the contemporary world.