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Destination is only Received by Journey #13

Deeper into the Understanding of Life


Ever since this being had quaffed the cup of satiable of sensibilities, it has been getting increasingly indifferent towards all. Longing to obtain something more is pushing old relationships behind. The eyes run this way and that in search of something special. Therefore today, even my car is running very fondly and lovingly and my body is swaying and dancing. The moments of some rare rhythm shift glances toward the Moon. In the silvery-dyed evening, the Moon is adorned with full beauty and splendor. I then remember it will be poor-numa  ( full moon ) the following day. Even while driving the car, my attention is focused on the Moon and engages in talk with it.
Only a few moments have elapsed, but I feel as though it has been several ages. These blissful charming moments provide the key to new sensibilities and manage to unlock the doors of novel experience.
I see that—in the silvery-dyed evening the Moon looks quite round. When suddenly a turn came, the Moon is out of sight, and then through the trees her pieces fall back into sight. Then, owing to a small ravine on the way and the interception of a building that conceals half the Moon, only half of the Moon is visible. Then there is a click in the interior of my being—the Moon is complete wherever it is. But how much of the moon appears depends on the place from where we see her; how we see her—full or half, or in pieces or not at all.
This click did give me something. But what? This I cannot tell with certainty. After two days, I deliberate this incident with Surinder, a friend of mine. She reads out a page from an English book containing Lord Buddha’s sermons. After which this being turns into non-being!
A beautiful observation of Lord Buddha, made two thousand and five hundred years ago, automatically monopolizes my mind and in consequence I feel:
Whatever the number of bricks used, the building made.
Whatever be the number of impressions, paths, sensibilities, longings, and aspirations, people’s possibilities are the same.
The journey is very pleasant because at every difficult turn there are tapers of sensibilities burning, and with their lights suggest the charisma of the Buddha, Nanak, Kabir, and Krishna and sometimes they also bring us into contact with great scientists like Einstein, Aristotle, and Newton. Furthermore, they throw Light on the lives of people like Ravna, Aurangzeb, and Hitler.
This subtle journey is making me read a page of the depth of ‘existence’ which quiets and pacifies the disquiet breathing currents slowly and slowly in this Ocean of ‘existence’.
Then my ears hear some deep and soundless tune and my lips sing some note of Quietness.
It is strange that today this physique cannot bear the burden of a pound of clothes; while formerly it carried several baskets full of worries, despairs, and reflections. Today, this physique demands Freedom even from this so trifling burden.
The moments that crave for this Freedom puts me in mind of Mahabir* and out of the tears that well in my eyes, in the sweet memory of Mahabir, is born a beautiful smile which thrills my being through and through and touches every part and pore of my being, filling it with sweet fragrance.
Today, the delicate question of why Vedas, Granths, and other holy scriptures are written unlocks its doors upon us, and I realize that they not only shows us the right direction of Life by providing proper knowledge and guidance, but also add lustre and glory to our path and conduct in Life. Then, through every bit of experience, every sensation, and every feeling they introduce us, sometimes to the Buddha and Nanak and sometimes to Krishna and Mahabir.
In short, these emotional contacts become the beacon of Light and brighten up our lives. Invaluable longing begins to leap and bound in our veins, as though they are blessing themselves in the midst of rhythmic clapping. The same blessing can, then, no longer contain itself within the body through drops of sweat, or in the shape of tears, eventually it finds relief.

Then what can I do? These happy sensibilities make their existence felt in the garb of words.
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