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Destination is only Received by Journey # 3

Visioning the World through New Eyes



This is the first morning in a new place. The heat, increasing with the Sunlight, increases my inner temperature. Even in my semi-awakened state, my head finds this heat unbearable. As always, the ‘awareness’ of heat brings with it its friendship. Therefore, seeking protection on my part would be a good step.
Let it be Disneyland or Universal Studios,
3-D Movie or Roller Coaster.
It is always my fond desire to bring every new place and every new object within the range of my observation and experience. A longing to swallow every new sensation or impression stirs within my inner being. Proneness to meditation, the endowment of Nature, both in its subtle and solid states, is eager to experience and imbibe every external impression and influence.
Science is a very good thing, but a human, highly charming! As for Nature, it’s simply wonderful! This consciousness of today has countless tree trunks of thoughts and reflections that have overgrown the field of my existence.
For a being absorbed in reflections, the world seems as its own; in the moments of concentration, all this gets alienated. Then the tune of acclamation begins to stupefy my being.
Then, ‘I’ and my movie become identified.
Then I am no longer that ‘self’, but the movie, despite being the same, loses its sameness.
Is it a matter of ‘awareness’? A mere fact of wakefulness? A mere segregation from thoughts?
Today, this life looks like a miracle, once again stretching itself for deep relaxation. Today, I am observing this being in two lives, two worlds. This consciousness wraps this being in a shawl of deep tranquility. Then from some far off place comes a ray of consciousness, which moistens my eyes and makes me absorb into myself. This experience takes me within its fold and says:
“You can become detached in the real sense only by becoming an observer.”
With the help of my subtle ‘self’, I see the five elements calling me.
O my Lord, O my preserver, is this all real, a true experience? Is it a dream? Is this the only way to get rid of weal and woe, smiles and tears, birth and death? This world is spread in both shapes, the shapes of truth and false. However, we need to change our perception.
Today, I remember Gurbani once again, it says:
“Please, take the world as a mere dream;
There is nothing real in it except
Great God. This whole Creation is a false
Show, realize it well, my friends.
Nothing is lasting and stable,” says
Nanak, “everything is a mere mirage, an illusion.”
Today, I realize the entanglements of my intertwined chords; even dust begins to fall off from my stupidities and frailties. Today, I find the Beautiful depth of my frenzied activities; I hear the echo of a sob emanating from every pore of my being. At the haplessness of this echo, I find some aspect of my ‘ego’ (extremely subtle), giving me a mocking smile.
What can I do? I had told my friends that in case I fail to make a response to their calls, they should not make another call.
How mysterious is the behaviour of this ‘ego’, both subtle and concrete. Every happening that transpires in it is purely personal and private in character. The mind’s energy surcharges our life with Beauty, like a new wild tree growing in the sandy desert. The few moments of meditation laid the foundation of critical relationship with human kind: The Beauty of this Beautiful union exclaims again:
I am the same, but the world is no longer the same.
I am not my previous self, but the world is the same.
O Where are ‘I’, ‘mine’, and ‘ours’?
O Where have these the cacophony of ‘I’, ‘mine’, ‘ours’, ‘self’ gone?
Today, I begin to hold my own ‘self’ dear; my body does emit sweat but Love; where not eyes, but my heart pours down in tears. Today, even Nature seems to shed tears along with this being. I feel for the first time, that I am a non-entity. I also feel that I have taken my birth today. Then, a suppressed guffaw overtakes me and the sense of this new ‘awareness’ begins to look for a dyer to get ready a cloak of detachment. Gradually, the moments of detachment begin to fascinate this existence with their pageants.
Now these moments raise a call:
“O my Creator, O my God, please make this thirsty being sip a drop of the Ocean of your Beauty, so that this existence be in a position to cut capers to the rhythmic symphony going on in nature. O my Donor, please, engage me in a dance that creates, an ecstatic state, and that illumination, which brightens up the whole Life.”
Words fail to convey this call. Can it be grasped in the fist? It is like a shoreless Sea in the depth of which this ‘self’ is being drowned, but my own ‘ego’ (extremely subtle), is watching me.
Then, another thought crops up and says:
“Ponder over it carefully; fathom the depth of the approaching Time.”
Then, the tapers of consciousness of the Buddha, Nanak, and Krishna help support this reviving being with their Light. With the new reflections of new Life, the layers of ego appear before me in an explicit form. The experiences born in the inner womb come into a handshake with their new relationship of profound Silence.
In the nest of brief moments lie millions of eggs of new experiences. On coming out, they fall off from existence and bring Life into cooperation with Life itself.


During the stay of these moments, this figure of mine is enamored of a pale, orange colour. It seems that in the season of such a mind, only pale-orange colours shower down. Perhaps this mental season welcomes everyone with this colour. After this, I see old doors begin to close upon me.
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