Musings of Advaita Ashramaite (part 2)

[Guest guest]

Musings of Advaita Ashramaite.. (part 2)

 

 

Never mind my headache, never mind my body, never mind death.

There is some trick going on because of which I see variety around.

There is some trickery about, that I feel I am weak, that I fear death.

It is a blind-fold game going on, but never mind, I am on to something,

I have got some solid clues. I am on the right path. I may stumble and

fall but rise again. Rise is the last word.

 

There is a God who wears variety and there is me. But I too am

connected to that God. And it is all a game between me as I see

myself and God as I see Him. Or God can be Her.

 

`Eternal love and Service Free' are the clue to what my moves in

the game must be about. Eternal love manifests as Service free.

Anything that differentiates, caste, creed, sex, monastic, non-monastic,

all these thoughts don’t belong to me.

 

What about those who think these thoughts?

Oh, I said, variety is the mask worn by God to frighten me in jest.

I would match a move for move. I will play a game for game.

`Die game’ as Swamiji said elsewhere.

So God is not high and mighty, up there somewhere. If you are Lord

God, I am your playmate. I may make mistakes in my moves in the

game but you can’t fool me for long. I can never be afraid for you are

my playmate. You wear frightful masks and try to frighten me. I may

fall for your tricks sometimes but not always. You may trick me into

sleep and make me dream of weakness but I will awake and arise.

Rise is the last word.

 

It’s all True; It’s all Love;

It’s all Life; It’s all Real;

It’s all here, now

Thus I echo Swami Vivekananda’s words `All is here right now’.

But the game continues. The `pause’ button is released. You are

out with your murderer mask.

`Universal Oneness’ says Swamiji. I see a universal playmate.

You as a friend are my playmate. You as a worm are my playmate.

And death? Does the play end with death?

There is no death. I am Amar, deathless. `Amar Rahe’ they shout.

`It is one body, one mind, one soul through out. There is no death

anywhere, not even for the body. Not even the mind dies. The Universe

is my body. All minds are mine. With all feet I walk. In every body I reside

’

These are not yet, I hear a voice. Pause button is released. The play

starts again.

 

So what, let me tumble along, we are here to clown and tumble along,

says Swamiji. his is the worship I do, this playful informality. Is it not

the

first difference that strikes anybody entering Advaita Ashrama, that there

is no formal worship? In other words, to state the same in the positive

language, the Advaitins’ worship is informal. It is universal, always,

everywhere. For the Advaita Ashramite all the words spoken to him are

words of the scriptures. All that he speaks are mantras for they are

addressed to God for God is in everyone. Anybody else can accept

weakness and cry to a God but an Advaitin denies God by accepting

weakness.

 

I would say, my play-mate tries to trip me down but I will rise and

stand again. Perhaps I will ask for strength from him. But I am not

ashamed of that. We are closely related. We are close like reality

and its shadow.

 

Oh, I have a playmate! I will play a thousand games with him.

My playmate tries to hoodwink me. That is part of the play. He tries

to shunt me into a womb. I may enter and fall out again. But rise

is the last word.

 

`It is a mansion of mirth’ said our Guru Maharaj. `I am a small circle

within a big circle and the larger circle moves me’, says Swamiji.

I see my boundary and beyond that something larger. I will be keeping

my eyes glued to the beyond. Though my eyes may chance upon

something nearer I will shake myself off it. It is great fun, this game the

small round bubble plays, bumping against the edge of the infinity.

In Advaita Ashrama `children …… shall learn from the very start to

stand upon their own feet. They shall learn from their childhood that

God is the spirit and should be worshipped in spirit and in truth.

Everyone must be looked upon as spirit’ says Swamiji. Yes, I am a

child born there. Variety is the mask worn by my playmate and my

playmate is a mischievous merry spirit indeed. He tries to trip my

legs but with my every fall I rise for rise is the last word.

I am on my feet. I am alert and awaiting my playmate’s next move.

But I am beginning to get a suspicion that I am playing with my shadow.

Or is it the other way round?

 

THE END