This śloka continues the description of the mature yogī. The earlier verses described self-mastery, tranquility, steadiness amid opposites, and equal vision toward clay, stone, and gold. Now Bhagavān extends that same maturity into the most difficult field of life: relationships with people.

It is one thing to be calm toward objects. Clay, stone, and gold may attract or repel us, but they do not insult us, betray us, compete with us, or provoke emotional reactions in the same way people do. People can help us, ignore us, oppose us, wound us, love us, correct us, or behave in adharmic ways. Therefore, equanimity toward people is a higher and subtler test.

Bhagavān lists many kinds of people:

Suhṛt is an unconditional well-wisher. This person’s nature itself is to wish good for others, whether the other person is known or unknown.

Mitra is a friend. A friend also helps, but usually because of affection, familiarity, or relationship. The help is real, but it is connected to personal closeness.

Ari is an enemy — one who harms indirectly or from a distance.

Udāsīna is an indifferent person. This person neither helps nor harms. He does not interfere, does not support, and does not oppose.

Madhyastha is a mediator. When two people are in conflict, the mediator is interested in the well-being of both sides, not just one side.

Dveṣya is a person whose behavior provokes dislike or hatred. This is not merely someone who harms from a distance, but someone whose conduct is directly unpleasant and difficult to tolerate.

Bandhu is a relative, one connected through family relationship.

Sādhu is a righteous person, one who lives by dharma and values.

Pāpī is an unrighteous person, one who lives by adharma.

Bhagavān says the mature yogī has samabuddhi toward all of them. This must be understood carefully. Samabuddhi does not mean foolish sameness in behavior. It does not mean we treat a criminal and a saint in exactly the same external way. It does not mean we invite a dangerous person into the house in the name of spirituality. It does not mean we stop using discrimination.

Samabuddhi has two levels.

At the philosophical level, the wise person sees the same ātma in all. The differences belong to the body-mind complex: one mind is kind, another is indifferent, another is harmful, another is noble, another is adharmic. But behind every body-mind complex, the same consciousness is present. The ātma is not criminal, saintly, friendly, hostile, high, or low. These are attributes of the changing personality, not of the Self.

This is the same vision taught earlier as samadarśanam: the wise person sees the same reality behind all names, forms, roles, behaviors, and conditions. The body-mind may differ greatly, but the consciousness because of which that body-mind is known is one.

At the practical level, however, behavior must differ. A sādhu may be honored and learned from. A pāpī may need to be restrained, corrected, avoided, or even punished according to dharma. A mediator should be respected for fairness. A harmful person should not be blindly trusted. A child should not be told, “See everyone the same, so go anywhere with anyone.” That is not wisdom. That is confusion.

Therefore, samabuddhi is not sameness of external treatment. It is sameness of inner vision. The wise person does not allow rāga and dveṣa — binding likes and dislikes — to cloud the mind. He does not become emotionally enslaved by the friend, nor poisoned by hatred toward the enemy. He does not become proud in the company of relatives, indifferent to strangers, or hateful toward the unpleasant person. He sees the same ātma in all and responds to each body-mind according to dharma.

This is very difficult because people trigger deep reactions. A friend may create dependence. A relative may create attachment. An enemy may create fear or revenge. A hateful person may create anger. A noble person may create reverence. An unrighteous person may create disgust. The mature yogī sees these reactions arise, but does not allow them to destroy clarity.

Samabuddhi is not emotional flatness. It is not lack of care. In fact, it allows better care because the person is not controlled by personal bias. He can help a friend without attachment. He can correct a wrongdoer without hatred. He can honor a sādhu without blind personality-worship. He can protect society from an adharmic person without inner poison.

This verse therefore describes the social expression of spiritual maturity. Knowledge is not merely a private meditation experience. It must transform how one sees people. The one who sees the same ātma in the unconditional well-wisher, friend, enemy, indifferent person, mediator, hateful person, relative, righteous person, and unrighteous person — and still acts appropriately — truly excels.