Several medieval scholars devoted themselves to unpacking the dense symbolism of the Rudra Yamala Tantra, even if many of their glosses remain tucked away in manuscript collections. The most frequently cited is the 13th-century “Yamala Candrika,” often attributed to the South Indian paṇḍit Narāyaṇa Bhaṭṭa. This lucid running commentary wanders through narrative episodes, ritual prescriptions and yantra-mantra sections, shedding light on obscure verses much as a lantern brightens a temple’s inner sanctum.

Not far behind is the “Rudra Yamala Vivarana” of Lakṣmīdhara, composed around the 15th century in Kashi. Its concise marginal notes clarify technical terms—rasa, bindu, bindu­vyuha—while offering cross-references to older Shaiva and Śākta works. Occasionally, it even quotes stray lines from the fifth-century Kaula scriptures, hinting at an unbroken interpretive chain.

Bhaskarārāya’s 18th-century gloss later surfaces as a treasure trove for ritualists, emphasizing śākti and mantra initiation. Though still in manuscript form at Sarasvatī Bhavana Library, it bridges classical Advaita-Tantra theory with practical sādhanā. A handful of sections were recently digitized under the British Library’s Save Sanskrit Manuscripts project, signaling renewed interest.

Bengal’s Raghunandana (c.1600) also weighs in, weaving short exegeses on select yantra diagrams into his Tantra-Sūtravālī anthology. His notes strike a conversational tone, as though explaining complex rites over tea—a reminder that these texts once circulated in lively guru-śiṣya circles, not just cloistered archives.

Modern scholars have begun to trace these layers. G. A. Johnston’s 1930 Calcutta edition collated Yamala Candrika and Vivarana readings, while Raniero Gnoli’s 1961 work highlighted parallels with Nepalese tantric fragments. Thanks to ongoing digitization in Vedic and Oriental libraries, further medieval commentaries may soon step out of the shadows—ready once more to guide seekers through the tantric labyrinth.