Dreaming of the Divine

I have wished several times that the Lord appears in my dreams and blesses me, that He teaches me divine lessons in my hours of deep slumber when my body lies dead in the state of shavasana and my consciousness fades into oblivion. I attempted helping myself by either reciting sacred mantras before going to bed or just thinking and dreaming of the various temples I have visited. 

Out of several attempts few of them proved to be really fruitful. No, am not boasting of any divine activity within my mind's limits, none really. But yes, some dreams stuck on like droplets of marit in my otherwise crowded head bursting with noisy thoughts. I still love to live in that limbo, repeat those vision I saw and feel a little better that maybe the Lord actually heard my wishes. 

Am one for temples, as this very blog speaks. Any temple, anywhere is of great interest. But there is a difference between the way I view and read temples in reality verses those that tend to appear in my dreams. Lets leave the noise, people and corruption out. There is a feeling of bliss every time I visit a Shiva temple, to see the various forms that the Shiva Linga can adorn. The Linga decorated at Ukhimath, with a mustache is similar to the Linga decorated at the entrance of Lingaraja temple in Bhuvaneshwar, and yet the ambiance of the two temples were starkly different. That of Lingaraja was in a shrine much smaller in dimensions, and there was a chill within the chamber. That at Ukhimath was within a room with painted walls and covered in silks and flowers lending a much warmer look in a way more colder location. That at Rudraprayag was chilling cold and wet but it gave me the best experience in bleak winter, as I was allowed to sit right next to it and do abhishekam right in the middle of the day - I must add, the priest was being very kind. The Linga at Rameshwaram was a little too far, and the jyothir linga was barely visible and I must add, that the Linga at Thiruvannamalai's Virupaksha cave near Skandashram is made of pure ash. It is a beautiful cave with a dome like cieling and seats for anyone who chooses to meditate in sync with the samadhi of Virupaksha Deva. 

In all these temples or shrines the heart looks for the divine, and the anticipation is quenched at the glimpse of the shrine and as the eyes soak in the view, this image is embedded in the mind for good. The feeling is shortlived and the overpowering presence of "time" in our lives governs exactly how long this experience is going to last. The other aspect of a new place gives various images for the mind to absorb sometimes diluting the purpose of the visit. 

In the dream state, the temple hopping is a different experience. There is no concept of time, but the mind is anyway playing a game with us. The visions I have had are not out of the world, I just feel transported to another location which the mind chooses to give a geographical name or leaves it as a nameless shrine. Somehow, in these experiences, the name and geography of the temple doesnt seem to matter, there is no concept of time except for the waking state when ever it strikes and wipes these visions away. And the shrines appear with a deep sense of mystery, that there is something more to look for. Interestingly they break all the rules of temple architecture. In a recent dream, I found myself in a dark chamber, more like a hall so to speak which had pillars and was dark. I could barely move but from where I stood I could clearly count five Shiva lingas though small and barely making it to a foot off the ground. Yet they were bright, the three lines of ash, the chandan and the kumkum looked bright to the minds eye. There was a sense of wetness though I never saw the floor. There were small flames though I never saw the lamps, and I was alone standing there still searching trying to get a better view. This shrine seemed to break all the rules, all the rules that I had read up and expected my mind to exercise within the dreams views. But here in this picture, all the rules I have learned were broken, all the theories didnt apply and I had no connection with anyone. All there was in this level of consciousness was the Lord in His many forms and my vision of His being.

Sitting back in reality, and while I negotiate with my mind watching every thought as they go by and wondering whether they should be entertained, these visions of the divine just help feel better that there are some visions we just dont have to worry about but feel glad we even got a sight of them, that the mind is capable of imagining the Lord in forms that I have not yet discovered. 

All said and done, I value these dreams for the experience of mystery, for the spiritual tease it offers me, for the hope that I am being blessed with a vision of the Lord and of course for every new shrine I get to see, real or imaginary. It is so strange that something as static as the Shiva Linga can make a seeker so interested over such a long period of time. Its the emotion that matters, the need to want to know and the need to discover the core of the Lord. And somewhere along that line, the rules of ritual slowly begin to fade away.  

Musings on the Philosophy of a great Sage

 Photo Courtesy: bhagwan-ramana-maharshi.blogspot.com

There are some arguments that stop even before they have started and one that glares at me is the continues debate of that which is unreal vs that which is real. Pure spiritual philosophies define the real world as unreal which is the basic argument that people agree to disagree on even before they tried to understand the potential deeper meaning of the words.

Here is an eye opening statement of Bhagavan Ramana Maharishi that helps me understand this phenomenon a little better from my perspective.

Quoting from "The Teachings of Ramana Maharishi In His Own Words" by Author Osborne:

"The world is perceived as an apparent objective reality when the mind is externalized, thereby abandoning its identity with the Self. When the world is thus perceived the true nature of the Self is not revealed; conversely, when the Self is realized the world ceases to appear as an objective reality."

Let me first start with the meaning of externalizing and internalizing the mind. We live in 2 states of the mind all the time, that which we stitch into the external world around us, which we call "real" and that which is a figment of our imagination and perception which is apparently internal and "unreal" from our own perspective.

To put this in a practical example, the real world could be defined as what my boss expects me to do at work tomorrow and the unreal world is my apparently realistic imagination of how beautiful Lord Shiva Nataraja looks in the great hall of Chidambaram when I imagine Him through my devotional mind. As I am extremely connected to the external world, it is very difficult for the mind to state it as unreal and try and connect to the "Self", hence the external world appears as the apparent objective reality. In case, in all sincerity I made the dance of Lord Shiva Nataraja all real in my mind and enjoyed the blissful moment of viewing his divine presence in my mind, that world built on the river of Bhakti is far more real than a distant boss I may or may not meet tomorrow.

The next word I would like to explain is what the Self is. This of course is my understanding and purely my perspective, and I may be wrong :). To my understanding and realization, the Self is the definition of ME, at this present moment in time, with no thoughts that cloud my mind, with no intellect that defines my ego, with no rules that define my identity, with no relationships that govern my role, and with no possessions that define my earthly existence. I am free off the world, I am free off society, I am free off my ego, I am free off man made rules and I possess nothing. When the mind tunes itself to this thinking for even 5 minutes and connects with this reality, I have touched the Self, that is the real ME. Hence the world now ceases to appear, it is non existent, and therefore not real.

This explanation in simpler terms defines the deeper truth of what the Great Ramana Maharishi might have tried to indicate, but now, there is the other argument of how do we call an ever changing world as unreal and illusionistic specially when the changes are visible right before our eyes?

Let’s revisit this statement of the illusion in this so called real world. Let’s take the step back and view the history of this country and its people across the ages. We have had a colorful past, there have been enough battles, there is enough diversity in language and life style, and yet the religious nature of Hinduism in the country is intact, and as ancient as ancient can get surpassing all the other world religions in terms of time and tolerance to withstand any form of destruction.

As Vedanta explains, that which changes is unreal and that which remains unchanged with the tolerance of time is real. People have come and gone, generations have changed, dynasties have been wiped out and replaced and yet the basic religious identity hardly got shattered by these blows. Isnt the faith of Hinduism, this way of life, this art of spiritualism actually real that it didn’t depend on any one human being or time for its sustenance? The thought of Lord Shiva is as powerful today as it was in the Indus valley ages. The thought of Vishnu is as profound now as it was during the Aryan age [If there was a disputed Aryan period at all?!]

Change is not permanent, and that is best explained by the recent turmoil brought in by the wealth revealed after centuries in the ancient temple of Lord Padmanabha Swamy. The wealth belongs to no one; the wealth in our system of rules still has great value, without an owner. Our rules don’t define what to do with this wealth, but this wealth certainly reeks fear into people about who will manage it and how justly they will be honest to the Lord's earthly possessions and hopefully it will not go into the wrong hands. The wealth cannot be used [to be fair to all] and therefore much as it is of great value, it is as good as sand for it belongs to no one.

Conceptually, what good has "Change" brought to this newly found wealth at an ancient temple? Is Lord Padmanabhaswamy suddenly that much more important because of the wealth he now has revealed to us as we perceive it through our minds? He always had it, we found His wealth now! This wealth was illusionistic and conceptual till it was brought to the surface, and now it controls the mind a lot more than the Bhakti that rules the devotees mind to Lord Padmanabhaswamy. He is no longer the Great divine being who rests in the enigmatic ocean of time, he is now the owner of Rs 90000 crores which will again disappear with time, but Lord Padmanabha Swamy as a concept will remain even if this temple is ravaged by time. 

Its a matter of time, the wealth that was once open treasure was buried for more than a century, and is now revealed and will be buried again. As we have seen before, what will remain is the unchanging principle of spiritualism defined by the existence of the great Trinity, by the spiritual presence of the Gods who rule the Indian mindset. We are part of the change, the physical body will give itself up, its the astral body that will bail us out to the next level in our spiritual journey. The change as we perceive it is limited to this life, the unchanging is the Atman that pervades the space and will leave the physical body at will survive the individual after death.

To the great Sage Ramana Maharishi, I bow in all humility for these divine teachings.

Consciousness at the great mountain of Thiruvannamalai

Arunachala Mountain

When all knowledge fades into oblivion
When the curtains of faith are drawn to look beyond
When the essence of existence is defined by consciousness
I am here, and now, at the great mountain of Thiruvannamalai.

Srinivasan stared up at the great mountain of Thiruvannamalai and contemplated over his spiritual journey realizing that he had been so blind, so theoretical, so completely stubborn all these days. It had been such a struggle despite all the accumulated knowledge. He had read many books, he had researched well, he had taken to changing his lifestyle into a real, though provoking journey laced with ritual. He now sat in front of the great mountain of Thiruvannamalai wondering why he had missed the point for so long.

He stared on, the gentle clouds covered its peak, like a silent glowing halo that danced around its pinnacle. It was so beautiful and so breath taking and he kept staring at its majestic presence in the otherwise flat landscape. It had been theory till today, that this mountain was the Kailash of the south. These words rang in his mind as he took a deep breath, what did these words really mean?

Like the great Kailash of the north, that doesn’t allow any person to set foot on itself, this great mountain too has many myths that surround it. Considered to be the very form of Lingodbhava, this mountain gave Srinivas the feeling of the self. These moments while he stared at this majestic piece of natural art were all about him, all about his life energy as the breath he took in consciously and the stark view of the mountain in an otherwise silent afternoon. Nothing else really mattered.

All that he had read, all that he had assumed he had achieved, all that he had considered to be part of a supreme thought, were now only ways to get there. Each way, be it tantra, yoga, or ritual, embedded this truth very subtly into their methodologies. Srinivasa realized it was not any one route that would help him in his journey; it was a combination of all of them. And now he was here, he, his mind and his body present together, having kept aside all these prescriptions to salvation he had come across so far. It was only him, and the mountain, and the rest of his life was put to silence for a few moments of complete consciousness.

His problems slowly faded away, his activities slowly died in his thoughts, his memories faded into oblivion and his worries didn’t exist anymore, he was one with the peak, he was a part of this mountain, egoless, selfless, bodiless... just consciousness.

His body was the home; his breath was the passage as he felt the energy rising in and out of it. He was an entity, a drop of consciousness that felt imprisoned within these walls. With every breath, he felt the tingle in his muscles, the gentle movement of air through his lungs and the cool feeling at his throat that lasted even longer with every oncoming breath. He prayed in his mind, to all the great beings who rested at this peak, to all the siddhas who has lived and worshiped here, to come down and bless him in their own silent way.

The great mountain of Thiruvannamalai now represented a composite geometry of the great Lord Shiva himself, every peak on itself represented a gateway to inner truth guarded by cosmic dwarapalas who make their presence felt only when one is conscious enough to tune into them. This peak, with its undulating surface, rocky slopes and lush green vegetation, in its form somewhere appeared like a stone cold rishi always in meditation, seated in padmasana, with his jatas falling over the pinnacle of his being. His body was this form, his breath was the ever living energy that surrounds this mountain, his consciousness was the living reality; the swayambhu linga that grew over this ground to now stand here, stark in this pale countryside.

Srinivasa looked up at the mountain and felt, he was such a miserable example of the same great truth. He was pure consciousness that had lost its way, he was the atma linga that had not realized its potential and he was the very same atman that lay deep, dormant asleep still within his bodily home. Breath and consciousness were his only weapons to fight the great battle of silence in his head and bring him remotely closer to his inner self.

To the great mountain of silent truth, to the ever present consciousness he was blind to, Srinivasan bowed down and prayed in all reverence, hoping to achieve something during his lifetime.

Photo courtesy: http://davidgodman.org/asaints/powerofa1.shtml

Kailasa, sacred abode of Lord Shiva

Kailasa, Home to the Lord
Paradice in bleak regions
Sacred earth that calls to worshippers
Shrouded in myth and mysticism
Snow clad and white
Echoing the presence of the 3rd eye on itself...

Kailasa promises high spiritual powers to everyone. Here in prithvi loka, in this period of Kaliyuga,  aglimpse of this peak and an opportunity to do the parikrama is a great blessing. This great mountain soars above its earthly landscape, covering the skies and the heavens above with its sheer presence.

This mass of a monolithic rock in granite holds crystals of snow that shine in brilliance as the sun casts its light on them. By night this nectar of bliss powers over into the landscape as the moon glows, draping its divine presence on this great mountain.

I sit here at its foot trying to light my inner fire of enlightenment, as the guide leads us to the closest point. "Do not go any further, for those who have, never came back". Catching my breath, climbing to the highest point possible, my eyes soak themselves in the beautiful view of this mountain of light, this mountain of truth, this mountain of power that plays with the clouds that try to scale its peak. And then I wonder...

This earth is divine, so pure, so blessed that I in my human presence can go no closer to this great shrine. This is my line of consciousness. Beyond this line lies the next realm of power and spiritual enlightenment.

Time, the invisible measure has laid the path to me. What lies beyond is a mysterious world that belongs to all the other beings, celestial beings. In the mysterious realm of Kailasa, dotted with passing cloud, a different world comes to light, that of magic, of consciousness, of bliss. In this mystical world where clouds play vehicle to great spiritual being descending on to this earth, the aura around Kailasa is heightened, by its power and intensity though what appears to the eye is still a snow clad bleak region. And yet it glows in its inner light, in the energy that surrounds it.

Celestial beings from other lokas come here to stay, to witness the presence of the Lord, to witness the primordial sound that echoes loud among these great peaks and yet these divine sounds fall dead on ears as the winds whistle by. All the celestial world worships the Lord here, glowing in their being and performing severe penance to seek his audience, shining from within themselves, and yet, I can see only the subtle glow of the moon.

Sacred ambrosia trickles through the air, sweet notes of music play in this space as gandharvas and hrishis residing here breath and meditate, pulling all their consciousness to this central point - the great mountain of Kailasa.

Such is the power, so invisible and yet so strong for eachdrop of consciousness adds this intensity to the elixir of life, a life that I fail to understand right now. The air is pure and not a drop of dust falls through, the earth is still and the moon shines through the ice like a million stars. The atmosphere is clear, potent with divine consciousness, coupled with the powerful light that glows around the mountain giving me this uncanny feeling that I am not alone in this bleak land.

The heavens open and in my mind, I step closer to the power center of this divine peak. Th skies open up and this divine glow falls through leading me to steps snow white paving the way into this divine mountaneous abode. And then in the midst of this blinding light that glows from the sun, moon and fire, home to the collective consciousness of the devas, from the glittering beauty of the Goddess shining in yellow gold I witness, the formless Lord, the brilliance of this consciousness that led me through into this mountain, into this palace of gold. I am now pure consciousness, I an no body no more. I do not exist anymore in the human state I thought I was, I am now a drop in this divine cosmic ocean of light.

I breath and look up, as this short lived bliss fades into the darkness of my mind, leaving me staring up to this peak to see a vertical line of white snow cut through its surface, a cold white crack in the rock that remains still, cold and distant, as if He closed his third eye forever.

The magical world of Thiruvannamalai

The aura:
An imposing form that towers over the landscape which appears to stay still and aloof even as my car speeds ahead to make it to the great shrine at its foothill. The feeling of excitement rises as one sets eyes on the hill, its sheer presence brings alive happiness, bliss, love for life, love for the Lord. The sun dances on, casting its light on the mountain through the spots in the clouds that bring this mystical world of charm and secrecy to the wandering devotee. What a picture it creates to just view the enormity of this hill as the car speeds on into this little land of divinity.

The temple:
Walking on the rocky floor of the temple, there is peace reigning supreme. The people have not yet started to come and the sun has not burnt the rock floor. The sound of the wind echoes as it plays through the carved pillars and walls of this ancient temple that houses the very form of Lord Arunachala. Gopurams rise imposingly into space, bringing to earth a divine ship of mystery that is shrouded by time. One step after the other makes oneself breathless as the great stone walls lead the way into the sanctum. Walking past the main entrance, the imposing Gopuram displays a magical world of dance, of song, of movement, of motion as 108 dancing sculptures dance down into my vision. The great lord of Bharata presents in silence for those who wish to see the 108 Karnas of Bharatnatya. Within the inner courtyard stand idols, larger than imagination, graceful in attire representing the iconography of Lord Shiva.

The courtyard presents a feeling of peace within these ancient rocky walls. On one end is the sacred tank with water to purify oneself, on the other leads the passage into the main sanctum, around is the chill in the pure air that sings and ahead is the imposing peak of Arunachala, towering, magestic, overwhelming, silent. An enchanting thought crosses my mind to wonder, was this the same hill that was firey and ablaze in the Krita Yuga, that shined brighter than the sun as a golden peak in the Treta Yuga, that held its purity in shimmering copper in the Dwapara yuga and now stands jewelled with a beaded string of rocky bolders in the Kali Yuga! Be it the temple, or the greenery, or the tank or the drifting clouds, my eyes stayed locked on the very form of Arunachala.

Lord Arunachala resides deep within the sanctum, in his chamber surrounded by oil lamps, visited by all. He resides at the center of this jewelled crown of fire that flickers around him. His presence envelopes me as I break into tune, singing the little bit of Rudram that springs from my heart. No one moves, no one pushes, the air is still and all that I can feel and see is this opportunity that allows me to recite the Rudram to the lord, loud and clear that it kills any other noise that dare storm this sacred interior. Few moments of bliss and my heart dances around as I walk past these walls. On the South side Lord Nataraja dances on, such grace and beauty that it makes a difference to a thirsting devotee who would have just loved to immerse herself in the divine vision of his natya performance. To be even apasmara is a blessing, to feel the Lord's feet on oneself is a blessing and to be granted his favor to give a performance and enjoy that grace is pure liberation.

The magic of the hill:
The cool air sings, the trees sway and the wind blows gently bringing with it the song of the birds and the pleasant smell of the herbs around. The rocky path leads on into the thin forest that has recently been fed by waters from the heavens. Its green and fulfilling with tiny creatures starting out on another busy day, scarcely aware that they live in paradise. In this quiet, on this earth live plenty of greater beings, invisible yet present, flying around the great hill worshiping the Lord in his entirety. Higher intellects swing by floating through the air as they do Pradakshina around this great hill. The bright light of the sun merges with the light of these celestial beings who grace this earth with their presence increasing the purity of this land and the people who visit it. Its strange that while the feet stay on this hill and while we lesser devotees be a part of its self, the mind lingers into clean thought, the mind is quiet, the mind is at peace with itself and no harmful ideas spring up. The purity of the hill, the clarity in the air, the divinity within this earth wipes out all the dirt from the mind, for a little while as long as the feet stay in touch with its divine soil. What a magical world of divinity and how subtle this truth that while i am there, I think clean!

The silence in Skandashram:
The mind is quiet, the room is dimly lit with the sunlight that penetrates through the narrow windows open to the world outside. The garden is in full bloom, the trees are in song with birds awakening us to this world where nature is an integral part of our lives. I sit here in silence imbibing this peace, this pleasing world for I know it wont last long. The eyes close to listen to the wind, to the birds, to the stream of water and probably to the rhythm of the rudram that continues to ring within my head. There is rhytm in this universe, there is rhythm in these strange sounds of nature and there is silent music to listen to only when the mind stops to rest. And when that happens, the great lord performs, the dance of grace, vigorously moving to present to us a firey wall of flames that burns us to ash, sacred ash, to nothing merging us to his very being.

To the great Lord Arunachaleshwara, I bow in all humility, still clinging to his blissful world of frangrance, magic, rhythm and dance.

Courtesy:
Arunachala Blog

Tulsi, at the seat of Samadhi

Far away in the ancient country side of Andhra Pradesh, along the silent ripples of the Tungabhadra that toss around the stony sides of this great river course, lies the Samadhi of Sri Raghavendra and 8 other great saints of the 16th cen. AD. There is peace and tranquility all around, and the air is so pure within this strange compound of rocky stones. Its a divine world of silence, of intellect and of superior life that lies buried deep within, under these stones.

What a magical picture it paints in this spectacular moment when the silver rays of the moon toss around the gentle waves of the Tungabhadra and shimmer in the pure waters as it bathes the stone slabs of ancient Samadhis in its silvery presence.

Sri Ragavendra's Samadhi brings alive the presence of divine potency to our existence, one that we would love to strive towards but simply lack the drive, courage and enthusiasm to do so. All that is left to echo back the ancient superior sense of living, are a few boulders of stone uniquely designed and put together to form a structure that resembles the potted Tulsi plant back in our courtyards, the Tulsi Vrindavan.

The original meaning of Samadhi, was not just a burial place of great beings, but a sacred and pure spot that continues to house their mortal remains "mummified" in holy sacred ash within a chamber, purified with worship, sacred mantra and ingredients of worship of centuries long gone. The belief then was that they could return to this mortal body if they chose to come back to our world. The human body buried deep was symbolized more as a vehicle that would house the returning Aatma if it so willed. The purity of sadhana, the evolved sense of living, the divine grace constantly surrounding them, the Samadhis have since grown into places of not just worship but of a silent serene ambiance where herbal purity is felt at its best.

Tulsi, the herbal plant of purity and longevity that wards off disease of any kind is typically housed in today's households within a pot that has a very unique design. The plant is worshiped and considered sacred and has the lady of the house light a lamp at its foot every evening, with a belief that this lamp of divinity will spread the purity of this plant and the superior energy that rises from it around her home and bless the inmates with a more prosperous life. But this light also makes me believe that its original intention was probably to revere the great soul buried beneath in the original prototype of such a structure - the Samadhi.

The shape of the Tulsi pot in the house strangely looks very similar to the traditional design used to make a Samadhi for the departed. This is a small example of purity, a small example of fragrance in the air that will attract all the celestials and siddhars to come and reside within. The much larger example of a great samadhi that hosts a whole forest of herbal plants both tulsi and vilva is that of the great hill of Thiruvannamalai. Here is the living mountain of Lord Shiva that is the home of many siddhas, that is the home of many herbal plants and that which is the home of the great parent Shiva and Parvati. Myths hold that many Siddhas reside here, worshiping the Lord and his consort within this divine hill. The potency of this hill, and the divinity it spreads around itself is beyond words to express.

There is silence within, there is tranquility, and the mind remains blank without thoughts trespassing and rests on the idea of this symbolism in this beautiful plant of unique life promising purity and longevity that grows out of a structure that houses deep within, the most pure form of the human body. A body that is preserved in sacred ash, seated in meditation, lost in eternal bliss. This is the definition of the ultimate form of preservation, of sustenance represented by Lord Ranganatha himself who lies in Ananthasayana, as the world churns around him.

With this saturation in symbolism that echos within the mind the very presence of the Lord Preserver, the silence in the mind begins to submerge into this great realm of calm and tranquility, of peace and harmony, of clarity and depth. Let the waters of life role over me, let the stones of every janma fade, let the tree of life take deep root and release me from this misery of living this haphazard meaningless life. I merge with this tree, my soul departs, what remains is a stony presence whose fading memories get washed away by the flowing waters of time.


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