Friday, October 7, 2011

FLY IF YOU CAN

 

Oh so many paths are there; to reach thee.. The servant seeking the master. The lover seeking the beloved. There is such fervor and there is such pain. To what use is there; in misery being cast and misery in reign?

Yes, the paths all have one goal in mind. To reach higher ground, to reach where everyone remains as themselves, without a single false garb of duality known.

The paths are like the ways in which animals tread; some steady and strong like the walk of the ant. Though uncertain in its many moments, moving hither and thither and trying slowly and pain-stakingly to reach higher esoteric ground. Some call this the sure shot path, for this is the way each ant (each one of us) can take through our lives, to inculcate the sense of duty and morality and humility through our actions and thoughts and speech. This is true karma yoga, where there is every act; purified and negated through its performance.

There is also the intense path of the monkey, which jumps from one tree stem to another, sometimes going forward and high, sometimes falling down and taking care. This is the bhava and rasa of the lover in intense separation from the divine love all around. He becomes mad with passion and grace, looking for what the world’s illusion can never give him in the first place. He jumps over himself just like a monkey, and moves towards his divinity; the glorious sun (of the soul).  Some call this the higher path, the place where heart takes over thought and action and being all together, but to some it remains just a mockery, for the lover always in some secret heed to gain pleasure from this soul-full pain of being separated from the true one (of creation and life).

Then there is the path of the glorious eagle. The path taken by the most daring, the most needing. For the intensity cannot be held just in the heart. The need to liberate, the need to remove I is like a sure shot suicidal tendency in man. It makes him change himself, so that he may have what he needs most. The grace and feet of the entire glorious existence beckoning him ever and more. This is the path of the aghori. The path least taken and for reasons galore. For if you falter, even once, even half a chance taken and you shall fall to your madness and never come back to the grace of what you call out.. One moment your eyes taken away from the pointless goal and you hit the mountain or the tree of your doom and decimated beyond any recognition. Oh but what a supreme achievement to live out like a free avadhuta. The aghori, always basking in the love and grace of eternal raw creative power. He flies like no one I have ever seen. He remains one with the entire creation. His body exuding the eternal freedom of the eagle. He flies higher and higher in realms which we cannot fathom of.

Some call him the beggar and the madman, some abhor his presence and his existence. But what a true gift he gives to mankind, those who can only see the outside, see only a naked dirty filthy resemblance to a man, but to those who can see truly with the gift of third sight, they can see the naked innocence of life itself unravelled through the body and the matter in front of them, here and now in this visible universe.

I am not to say that every aghori, is like an eagle, treading paths to power. But there are those, in seclusion and disillusionment, looking after us all, through their efforts can ignorant fools like us lead peaceful and dull lives right to the time of our non-glorious deaths. These people, phantoms, power sources existing away from vile creatures like us, continously purifying our efforts to wreck all that is true. That is .

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