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

Himalayas - A Living Power Center

 Shivling Mountain

When the ancient world leaves impressions of a superior world behind, we ignore it
When tradition tries to teach us its value we doubt it
When scriptures sing out the beauty of the superior world we don’t understand it
But when nature presents these secrets in gigantic imagery can we be blind to it?

The Himalayan soil echoes the presence of super powers of a different kind. Is it the beauty of this land or is it its magnetic presence, or is it its gigantic size that makes us feel ant like in this space or is it the presence of Gods that gives us this uncanny sense of bewilderment that leaves us slaves to its power?

This bewitching beauty added to the sheer size and unconquerable appeal almost makes anything on this soil appear Godlike. Daring to sound a little biased, the power of the supreme is felt far stronger here in these temples than in an adaptation anywhere else in the country. The feeling is not restricted to the shrines among these mountains alone, it envelops the earth that cradles the very temple.

From the theoritical stand point, there is no difference in what the temple of Ukhimath and Tungnath offer as compare to Tanjore or Ujjain. The power of the Shaivite rule echoes in stone as much on these high mountains as it does near a river in Thiruvanaikkaval or in a shrine like Ujjain. Yet there is an uncanny difference. Is it the lack of people, noise and endless queues, is it the lack of corruption or is it the stronger virgin appearance of this land or is there something more to it?

Baghirathi Mountain

The Himalayas present a platter of beauty, in snow capped mountain ranges rising one higher than the other with a majestic appearance that can humble our own presence. And yet we are familiar with only a few mountain peaks, each meticulously named after a person, symbol or event from our ancient mythologies. 

Kailash Parvat

The Maha Nirvana Tantra beautifully paints the possible aura of Mount Kailasa and Mount Meru, the most sacred mountain peaks in the mystical Himalayan range. Mount Kailasa, described to be the paradise of Lord Shiva towers above the Manasarovar lake on its north west side. This paradise is described to be the summer land of both lasting sunlight and cool shade, musical with the song of exquisite birds and bright with undying flowers. The air is scented with the sweet fragrance of the Mandara chaplets, resounding with the music and song of the celestial gandharvas. This mountain is Gana Parvata thronged with spirits of superior beings [devayoni]. And in this region, rises the peak of Mount Meru considered as the center of the world represented by a lotus. It towers above all nature clustered by the souls of many who have been blessed a home in these heavens, living here, and worshipping this supreme center of power and forming a string of stars garlanding around its pinnacle.

Such is the power of the Himalayas that it is written "He who thinks of the Himalayas, though he may not behold them, is greater than he who performs all worship at Kashi."

It’s uncanny that the description of Mount Kailasa in the Maha Nirvana Tantra matches with the description of nature when Madhana, the Lord of love descended on Kailasa to distract Lord Shiva and make him aware of the beautiful Parvati. It’s strange that on one side there is the description of the perennial warmth of spring and blooming flowers and on the other the reality we see is snow capped mountains and bleak regions.

And yet in this breath taking spectacle, there are mysteries that are so obvious, that we cannot look away from them. Chaukhamba, as the name suggests might be a mountain with four towering peaks, but when viewed from any direction, it presents the feel of a deadly trishul of Kala Bhairava. Kailasa has been described to be enveloped by spring and blooming flowers and blossoming love, but what meets the eye today is the powerful yet cold appearance of the dormant third eye on the center of its brow. But what is even  stranger are some staggering peaks that apparently have no character, but when the snow falls on them and the sky is cleared off the mystic clouds strange symbols appear inscribed on their very contours. The Om Parvat is an uncanny representation of the supreme, coincidentally carved out of rock in these bleak regions visible only when the heavens choose to display it to us. Trishul Mountain is another representation of the trident that has captured our imagination of religious symbolism.

Om Parvat

And then there are the other peaks that host sacred shrines at their feet or within them or are just named after mythological beings. While Mount Shivling and Bhagirathi are towering peaks with no apparent shrine or form, their presence is pronounced more by their geographical location, the sacred shrines of Kedarnath, Badrinath, and Gangotri speak of unknown powers of the other world that is yet to be touched and realized.

What leaves us wondering is the deep symbolic mysticism that is shrouded in these snow capped regions which makes an appearance to unsettle our otherwise uneventful ignorant lifestyles. Is there something beyond the spectrum of our daily life that we have not experienced yet? Are these mountains and scriptures trying to call us to something far deeper and potent that we fail to realize? How strange are these mountains that they melt our hearts when we set foot on their sacred soil?

To the sacred Himalayan Mountains that crown our land, I bow in reverence.

Photo courtesy: Google Images

The silent Tara of the night - Tarapith

 

She walks the earth
The silent Goddess,
Mother of the cremation ground

Mother to the Lord himself
The blue hued one
In the moonless night

Her anklets resound
Sweet notes of a damsel

Mystical in her form
Fierce and powerful within

Ma Tara, the real,
the powerful, the mystical,
I bow to you in all reverence.

Local legends believe that the third eye of Goddess Sati hit the earth at Tarapith, but strangely this shrine didn't make it to the list of 51 shakti peethas. Tarapith might not be as well known beyond the shores of Bengal but within this region there are still loud cries of ancient tantricism brimming with life. Shrouded in the dense mysticism of ancient tantric practices lies a small temple to the north of Bengal. Believed to be graced by the heavens to have the third eye of Sati fall on its earth, this little temple came into existence based on a few obscure events. 

Insulted at the great sacrifice of Daksha, Sati entered the fires of death to perish in the very flames of purity that emanated from her. This event shook the universe for it left Lord Shiva, infuriated by the act of Daksha. He scaled the landscape wailing over the death of his beloved, carrying her corpse along with him, never to let go. Lord Vishnu took the final step and sent his discus to destroy what remained of her. With dizzying speed it cut through the air, tearing the dead flesh of the Goddess, she fell, scattering herself across the sacred earth of bholoka, on prithvi at 51 divine locations. Here fell her third eye, the power of enlightenment, the power of life, the essence of all siddhas...Tara pith came brimming to life, completely magical, intoxicating, powerful...

Vermilion defines her world, kumkum marks her presence. She had descended into this world dressed in the deep hues of vermilion, adorned in hibiscus and her favorite meal is flesh and blood. She is the the silent energy that wakes up in the night and dances in the cremation ground among the dead, among the fires. Tara, she has such a pleasant name, such a potent form and yet such a deadly look, so fierce that she could destroy all evil in a single glance. She walks the earth in silence, she is the prime resident of the cremation ground. She came alive as a mother to rid Lord Shiva off the poison he consumed to save the universe. She suckled him as a new born and nourished him with cool milk, and she empowered him with life.

Her long tresses flow down, covering her very being. In her heart she carries the Great Lord of the universe as a baby. She is fierce in appearance with disheveled hair and yet she has such warmth towards him as an infant. Tara, also known as Shamshan tara resides at Tara pith, the only sacred temple that makes the cremation ground its sacred home. While the fires turn all that is impure to dust, isn't it strange that the only way to enlightenment, the synonym of pure faith and salvation is in the unknown and unthinkable path of vama marga.

The sweetness of the Mahavidyas, the potency of feminine power coupled with the mysterious presence of the sacred goddesses who are the essence of all consciousness - shakti is not just energy, she is a mysterious world far more powerful than what meets the eye. She rises in the night, her meal is flesh and bone, her thirst is quenched by liquor, her garden is the burning ground, her ornaments are the limbs of the departed, her blinding truth is the strength to overcome death, her weapon is that which kills all fears. And this is visible in the lifestyle of all those who live by her side.

They are the living tantrics who have no home, nor fear nor food. They live on what the burning ghats offer them. They live with this stark reality all the time, death is a common site and sadhana is a regular part of their lives. Tarapith is the host of this wilderness, a shrine where there is little room for you and me. Here is a zone, where fewer thoughts reside, illusions of life silently die and immortality is defined not by progeny but the reality of one's own consciousness.

In the dense haze of this ignorance do I thirst to know the true form of the Goddess that awakens the mysteries of the night. The moon shines out and in its pleasant light does she shine, Oh the blue hued goddess hungry again for her drop of blood. Oh Tara Devi, do reveal to me the sacred yet secretive path that attracts me to you. May I see beauty even in your terrific being, may I see light in your twinkling deep blue eyes. May i feel your presence in the crackling flames of the cremation grounds by the night, may I breath this potent air refreshed with your presence. I bow to you oh Mother, to your beauty and to your fury, to your feminine potency, to your dazzling form, bathe me with your light, with your presence, with your life.

||Ghora roope mahamaaye sarvashatruvashamkari
Bhaktebhyo varade devi traahi maam sharanaagatham||

Divine presence of Goddess Saraswati

Where there is abundance of wisdom there is love and worship
Where the value of wisdom is not as much there is ignorance
But where there is no wisdom left there will be anarchy
 
The great Mother Goddess Saraswati is the embodiment of divine wisdom, she is pure, she is white, she is the all knowing and she is the only one who can withstand the destructive flames that emanate from the awakened third eye of great Lord Shiva. As these fiery flames leaped through all the worlds destroying everything impure on their way, she saved the world from this terrible catastrophe. She blessed this earth with life and wisdom as she descended into this world as a sacred river, taking this burning molten river of light into the deep sea and transforming it into a fire breathing mare seeking to destroy the world when all divine wisdom perishes from these lands leaving anarchy and noise behind.

Time moved on, eras passed by and the celestial world mysteriously left behind traces of its existence on this sacred earth. The earliest known form of Goddess Saraswati that appeared in our era to the mortal world is on the coins of the Utpala Dynasty of Kashmir in the early 9th century. Here, at the crown of the Indian subcontinent Goddess Saraswati is revered as Sharda Devi in her three aspects – Sharda, Narada or Saraswati, and Vaghdevi. The records of Kalhana indicate that the earliest temple attributed to her is near the Sirahsila castle as references have been made to it during its seige, in the Upper Krishnaganga valley, Kashmir. This is possibly the most potent place with respect to Goddess Saraswati and also the most ancient where the first temple attributed to the mother was constructed.

Stories from mythology and accounts of the sthala purana indicate that sages, ardent devotees and great intellects have been blessed with the divine vision of Goddess Saraswati in the form of Sharda Devi or Dakshina Mookambika Devi. The Goddess descended again into our world and graced this earth to bless them at these sacred places which have since then grown into centers of worship and learning and now hosts temples built in various styles of architecture.

According to the Sharda Mahatmaya, the Muni Sandalya, son of Matanga performed great austerities to be blessed with the vision of the Goddess. Saraswati Devi directed Muni Sandalya to go to Syamala [present day Kupwara district] and from there to proceed to the springs of Krishna Nag to take a holy dip in its rich waters. It is believed that on taking this sacred dip, half of his body was covered in gold. This brings light into the richness and prosperity of the land that surrounded this sacred earth, the home to the divine Goddess. With his prayers being fulfilled; he was overwhelmed with this experience of being constantly guided by the Mother, Muni Sandalya sang in praise of the divine mother and her three forms. She reappeared and asked him to proceed to Shardavan, in Sirahsila where she would appear in her Shakti avatara.

Sandalya also performed shrads for his pitras at this sacred river. It is believed that when he took the waters of the Mahasindhu for the tarpana rites, the water turned honey sweet and flowed down in the form of a stream now known as the Madhumati River. Sandalya moved on to the Shardavan as directed, where he had a divine vision of the Goddess in all her grandeur and purity in Shakti swarupa of Sharda Devi. The Goddess blessed him and granted him this divya dristi.

It is said that she rose out of the spring waters at this kunda to bless him and then disappeared into the waters. This sacred place is now marked by a stone slab which is believed to cover the same Kunda out of which she rose. This came to be known by the name of Sharda Peetham at Kashmir.

Adi Shankaracharya is known to have visited this Sharda Peetham before he travelled to Sringeri to establish another Sharda Peetham, in the 1st millennium B.C along the Tungabhadra River in Chikmanglur district, Karnataka.

The enchanting presence of Goddess Saraswati brought life and bliss of a different kind to these places and blessed the earth with potent shrines attributed to her. Such was the experience that some of these sacred shrines grew into highly intellectual centers of learning and debate, where words of sweetness crowned the atmosphere charging it with intellectual thought and ideas as great men challenged each other to spectacular compositions of divine wisdom.

Sharda Peetham in Kashmir was one such place covered in mysticism and divinity. It is believed that many men had tested their wisdom but few managed to cross the gate into the inner shrine chamber of the Sharda Nilayam. Adi Shankaracharya is known to have outshined all those who confronted him in debate. This shrine had four entrances and few great men had walked into her sacred gates. Adi Shankaracharya was the only saint to walk through the southern gate of the Sharda Nilayam to ascend the Sarvajna Peetam. The presiding deity of all learning, Sharda Devi set a test for him, which he overcame and alighted the seat of supreme enlightenment. The goddess blessed him and proclaimed his omniscience.

Such was the intellectual energy in the air that surrounded this small temple which attracted pilgrims from everywhere to witness debates that covered all known philosophies of living. This center didn’t just grow to have a temple dedicated to the Goddess but also had a center for learning as well as a great library that was revered by all. The sacredness of this soil still held strong until this temple fell to invasion. It is a tragic story that all that stands of this great sthala today is a ruined temple that still continues to hum the presence of the Goddess in its own strange way.

 Photo courtesy: Gharib Hanif - Kashmir collection

Fear of the unknown world beyond death

 

He lay there on his deathbed, his eyes graying within their dark circles as he furiously fluctuated between this world and the other. He barely recognized me and when he did it was not just an achievement for him, it was a moment of happiness for his family that he could actually connect with this world and its reality. He had grown thin and pale as the cancer had slowly eaten into most of his body. He still gave a beaming smile when he realized that he connected with me and is proper English retorted - I recognized you! That was the last smile I saw on his face.

I ascended the steps to visit him once again. This time he lay there silent, contained and wrapped in linen ready for his last journey. The grim atmosphere of the living waiting  for death to take him now had a strange sense of relief in all the enveloping sadness. He has suffered the last 5 hours and his family had resigned to removing the oxygen mask and leave him to his peril rather than keep him alive and torture him with more pain with the aid of medical science. There was no point, he had crossed the line and there was no coming back.

I sat there watching him and wondered what the purpose of his existence was. What was that moment while he battled the unknown at the time of transition from this world to the next. Isn't the solving of that mystery the soul purpose of our existence? The fact that I exist is the only truth that I am going to die. How then do I approach death?

We are presented with two things when alive, breath and consciousness and we waste it on comfort of various kinds. We essentially require a roof over our heads and 3 meals a day for survival but the line of desires is endless. The Tripura Rahasya echoes one thought through all its passages. This thought is to use the weapons of consciousness and breath to control just one enemy - our mind. Most people come out with cowardly statements of the inability to do so without even trying to achieve it. Our first problem is thought. The scriptures insist on controlling not just the thought but also the quality of it [impure/pure]. Everything else we do is pretty much a waste of time and life energy.

There will come that day, when we are lying there just like the old man, awaiting our moment of death. How many of us are going to be conscious about it and how many of us will have the courage to embrace the unknown when we are left with no choice? There is one more weapon that the Tripura Rahasya talks about that can bail us out of miserable death and that is the power of intelligence.

The human state is a state that enables us to take the right steps to practice and evolve ourselves to go to the next level. But the transition to the next level requires discarding of the body in this level and the only support we have is the power of our own intelligence. It is believed to be capable of doing many things, the starting point of course is the realization of what is reality. There is this old man lying in front of me, motionless - he is just mass, mass that is already on its way to decay. But where is he? Where is that consciousness that beamed a smile at me a day ago? Where did that go? What is the pulse of that reality of which I have no idea right now? And since I am an ignorant fool who doesn't understand that reality, how can I assume that this world is all the reality that exists?

Isn't the idea of reality a relative term in itself? The Tripura Rahasya beautifully illustrates this concept. You exist because my intelligence claims that you are there with a name and a background. If my intelligence ceased to recognize your presence, you simply don't exist in my reality. How then are you real? You then belong to relative reality, a part of a larger illusion that is so dense that we think its "real". And when we are faced with a person who has left his earthly state, what lies in front of us is a mass of human flesh waiting to be discarded. He now permanently ceases to be a part of our reality. Does that mean he doesn't exist at all, or is it that we don't know the other reality where he belongs now.

The Tripura Rahasya enlightens us with a spectacular theory. The only way to fight ignorance in life is to enhance the power of our intelligence. Intelligence is a weapon that can distinguish the real from the unreal and as it gets polished it loses all attachment to desire. It therefore renders a person completely detached from the workings of this world. The evolved soul now disconnects not only from the people around him but also from material comforts and more importantly from the familiarity within which he was cocooned. He now owes nothing to this world and has transcended the dense illusion within which he was imprisoned. Now, when the time comes for him to discard his earthly body, he is far more ready for a better transition where he is aware of the change and is freed from the misery of this dense cloud of imprisonment. He has no fear, he simply embraces the path ahead.

At that point, we still see a dead man, but he is the only one who knows how alive he is at the point of transition. He just leaves, he doesn't die. That is real achievement.

Photo courtesy: Moloy's photo stream

Fire, the mystical path to the other world

Srinivasan sat down and took a deep breath, and lit the lamps to the Lord. He stared at the flame catching on, while the fire grew gracefully into a small droplet of light. He watched the flame, dancing around on its wick but steady at the same time it seemed to give a mystical look to itself. He watched and wondered, this little drop of light appeared when he lit a match. This little drop of light lives while we feed it and disappears when the oil or ghee is over. Where does it go? It just seems to vanish into thin air, into that unknown world to which we have no ticket.

He started his prayer and as he progressed he watched the flame stay completely still on the wick. There was warmth in it and a silent magic that made he revere it more than take that little flame for granted. It had the power to make or break this puja, and what ever happened, this flame, he was taught, must never die during a puja.

This new perspective quite changed the entire equation of worship. It was no longer a mechanical task of lighting a fire because that was the done thing. It was now the starting point of a dialogue between him and that mystical world out there. The path of light had been created, he now needed to walk it and learn to light his inner flame. Sweet words rolled out, the rhythm got set and he sang out in praise of the Lord. Pure water washed the throne on which the Lord sat. Oil, honey and sandalwood bathed the Lord in turns. The Shiva Linga now looked so pure and divine in the light. The flame circled the Lord, and as it did he drew divine symbols. It felt like a grid of fire and light was the path to getting closer to the divine on the other side of this flame. Streaks of light drew a mesmerizing grid, symbolized by fire that would grant the seeker the divya drishti to see the Lord in his real self. How pure should this light be, and how sacred is this flame that it can purify the nature of the thoughts that go through his mind while he sings out these divine verses?

Srinivasan was intoxicated with this bliss that covered him, with the thoughts that ran through his mind. He could stay this way forever. He stared back at the light and thought about how the ancient sages performed their yagna. This small flame of light gave rise to a roaring fire. A roaring fire that grew with every offering made with ghee and mantra prayer. This flame was capable of doing many more things than just be a flame for 3 hours.

Great sages have performed miracles with this little light, they have created being both good and bad, enabling them to rise out of these flames. They have even challenged Lord Shiva with the creation of the grotesque red haired dwarf, Apasmara Purusha to fight him. A small flame in a lamp definitely has the capability to drive any being from the other world into this one. How then could he have taken this flame for granted?

Fire has made its way to various references in the scriptures. It appears in the form of a Jyothir lingas on this divine earth. 12 sacred shrines hold this very same flame within them.  What appears to be a hard, cold and rocky stone outside actually hides its potential molten white flame within. Is fire the life energy within them? Is it that which is referred to so carelessly as Prana? Fire is what is known to us, and it probably has more forms that can be felt but cannot be seen.

Srinivasan got up to do his final arti, raising the flame to the Lord as the culmination of the puja. He fed the wick with a little more ghee and left it to die gracefully. The path to the other world was now closed.

This little drop of light, this little flame that illuminated this chamber, has the potential of far greater powers undiscovered, and its significance fades back into history to be read as a mythological event that once took place in ancient days. 

Photo courtesy:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/arun-susmitha/

The definition of goodness

What would it be like if Kannappa Nayanar lived in these times and still managed to achieve his goal!

Let’s revisit his lifestyle in the backdrop of the world as it stands today.

If Kannappa, alias Chinna was born into a tribal family in today's times, he wouldn’t have caught your attention or mine purely because he belonged to a lesser society and might not have been as rich and been probably uneducated as well. Further more, if they continued to be hunters he would carry a gun, which would either be licensed or otherwise and he would be killing deer or other animals which are most probably endangered species.

Rolling back the life of Kannappa Nayanar, he was celebrated in his young age to have the valor of great king since he could take on a tiger single handedly at a very young age. If he tried that in these times, the "Save the tiger" campaign would have him behind bars.

He was born to his parents who were celebrated to be great administrators of their society. He grew up to be a courageous man but how does that matter – Where is the money? That fateful day when he went out hunting and found the Shiva temple on the hill, was the day he gave up his parents. To anyone, in today's times in any society, its so not the right thing to do. How irresponsible of a son, being the only child, to forsake his aging parents only to go and live else where. He was so completely wrong.

Meanwhile, Kannappa goes hunting, shoots down a deer or two, fills his mouth with water taken from a half dried up river and heads to the temple. He is only met with shock over the fact that he brought a bloody offering. Dripping all the way he makes it to the inner sanctum in an endless queue [he doesn’t have money to buy a quicker darshan]! He is met with disgust, horror and complete judgment for having come and stood in the queue with his bloody offering. But knowing Kannappa, he doesnt care. He simply keeps walking on into the temple to be met with the corrupt Brahmin priest who doesn’t let him go any further!

Such offerings are not allowed inside the temple and this blasphemy shall not be forgiven. None the less, lets assume he still made it into the temple every day with his offering he wouldn’t be allowed beyond the ardha mandapa to even try his best to do abhishekam to the Lord. Let’s sanction even that, should he have managed to get really inside he would have been thrown behind bars if he tried giving am abhishekam of the kind he had in his mind!

And despite breaking all the rules of having given up his parents, having killed endangered animals, having stood in a line with a bloody offering and having tried breaking the bars to do his abhishekam by pouring the water from his mouth on to the sacred Linga he still manages to frequent this temple.

One fine day, while standing in the queue he notices the eyes of the Lord bleeding on the Linga. He jumps the queue, to be met by the temple guards who hold him back and he struggles to get loose and manages to run into the main shrine. He takes the trishul hoisted nearby and digs his eye out and offers it to the Lord! There are screams outside and people stare on horrified at this daring act and no one knows how to react!!

And then the second eye bleeds and he takes up the Trishul again and places his foot over the Linga. This is it!! The last of the rebellious act! The crowd pounds inside to stop him from doing this complete act of defiance. Before the people, guards, police and all can get to him Lord Shiva appears and He is blessed!

What makes Kannappa Nayanar a good man? He did everything wrong. Till the Lord sanctioned his act, he was the worst one could have seen in terms of rebellion and non conformism to social rule despite the fact that he did it in complete devotion. Did anyone notice his devotion while we watch in horror over his acts of slaughter, and defiance towards the general rule of the public! Then why do we have so much garbage in our heads? The Lord proved us all wrong! It was the right thing to do!!!

Then how do we define goodness? How do we ascertain the rules of goodness when it can be proven wrong at any time? Isnt it scary to see intense spiritualism and devotion going in exactly the opposite direction of conforming rules of social living. How do we evolve when we got ourselves into this chaotic mess of existence? Is the only point of salvation the fact that Lord Shiva appeared and blessed him?

And even then we are so low, we wouldn’t learn. What’s next! This temple will sanction all devotees to come with offering of meat and blood because this is what granted Kannappa Nayanar his immortality! Is that all we learned from this episode? We would end up killing more deer, but we would scarcely give our eyes up for the Lord.

What is the definition of devotion, or goodness or spiritualism? And how are we planning to conduct ourselves going forward when we have so much to unlearn?

Glow in the fire of eternal bliss.

There is darkness all around, stillness and nothing can be seen or heard. There is just space, void and all I can feel is the thin breath passing through my being. I am like a moth, that awaits the light that glows, to dance its last dance of love with the flames of love, to dissolve in its essence.

The fire is alive in this sweet chamber, the rocky walls have been washed clean. The fragrance of fresh wet earth covers this room and the fire dances like a million flames on the textured rocky surface. The air is so quiet, the ambiance so still and yet there is this pounding heart within me that ceases to stop its beat.

At the center of this space, is this well of potency that rises to awaken this chamber. Sweet white jasmine flowers fall, fragrance of incense cloud this small room and in this mystical world I view His presence, dressed and and adorned in sacred precious stones.

He sits here on his throne, on a seat decked with blooming jasmine flowers, so white and pure, like the very blooming bud like eyes of His divine consort. White silks adorn his stony self as the great snake protects Him with its hood.

Sacred Vivla leaves garland his being, like a majestic wreath, a crown around His head, proclaiming him the ever present, the Lord of the world, who is eternal, who never ends, who never dies. And in this ambiance, do I dance, with this single flame, that lights this room, my fire of enlightenment that teases me through this life.

The power of the being, the power of devotion, the power within one self - this strange magnetism I feel, this strange heat that rises within me, burn my heart in His presence. In this graceful dance of love, do I forget that world outside, do I forget that chaos, do I forget that dense cloud of illusion that threatens to swallow me into its world.

I am the luminous, I am that which glows on its own. I am that light, that doesn't need your knowledge to realize that I am there, ever present in this chamber. I am real, for its not your realization of my presence that gives me my life. I was always here, I am always here, I will always be here. Do you realize sweet friend, the meaning of these sacred words that make me far more real and alive and immortal than the world outside?

I burn in these flames, but I shall not perish. I am but one among these million flames, these million lights that light up this room, worshiping the Lord every day, every time, in every breath. I am no longer a perception in your mind, I am pure energy, life, fire that glows beside the Lord for you to realize that there is another world out here, far more potent and far more real than that world outside.

To Lord Shiva, I weep and pray

 
I sit here in silence observing the Lord seated in His sacred shrine within this chamber and wonder, how distant and aloof He is from the chaos out side. Here is one world in silence, beckoning me to stop thinking and start contemplating and out there is another world that doesnt give me any such room. And yet I exist, swinging between these two world as I weep with these thoughts in my mind.

I weep when I realize my insensitivity toward the pain of other people suffering outside
I weep when I see this old tree getting cut down to make way for a road
I weep when I see sacred rivers getting dammed when there is no water left in others
I weep when I see the beauty of this country side being ravaged in the name of development
I weep when I see hatred among us based on caste, color and faith
I weep when I see a family cry for food when I wasted my meal today
I weep when I see no justice being given to a little boy who lost his family to a murderous war
I weep when I see no compassion when the helpless ask for a little support
I weep when I see the foolishness of a son when he disrespects his father by dismissing his request
I weep when I see a mother discriminating between her children
I weep when I see children beat up a calf newly born, in ignorance and no one stops them
I weep when I realize how much pain I caused to a dragon fly when I pulled its wings and left it to suffer
I weep when I realize I stamped an ant on the ground and watch it writhe in pain
I weep when I see the tormented chicken watch death up close in the slaughter house
I weep when I see animals painfully tied up together with no room to move when they are transported city to city
I weep when I see the young lamb await its death at the temple
I weep when I see you, blissful and ignorant not realizing the density of this chaos that you are stuck in
I weep when I hear senseless judgment made due to mass ignorance
I weep when I realize I cursed you Lord, for not granting my prayers, not realizing that you averted greater harm on my way.
I weep when I realize, I am only existing but I am not living!
I weep when I realize there are better ways to get to You if only we cared enough for the living
I weep, I weep, over the misery I feel being myself.

Recreation of the absolute truth in the virtual world

The Tripura Rahasya beautifully quotes:

72. "Just as things unseen in darkness are found on its removal by means of a lamp, and are therefore said to be recovered from oblivion."

73-74. "Just as a confused man forgets his wallet, but remembers and locates it on keeping his mind unruffled and steady, yet still says that he has gained the lost wallet, though the steadying of his mind did not produce it."

75. "So also the control of your mind is not the cause of your Self-realization; though the Self is always there, it is not recognized by you even with a controlled mind because you are not conversant with it."

*-*-*-*

The virtual world of the computer:

My life as it were, so to speak in these times is controlled by this system that holds all the records to my existence. Everything I keep, everything I do lives in this world that we call real though its actually virtual. And yet we believe in it fanatically because we see it work all the time, every day and almost so real that we barely doubt it anymore. But what if I had to delete all of it in one shot! I would simply destroy the cloud of illusion that I had build up so far. Isn’t this world the perfect example of the potency of illusion /virtual living that can be destroyed anytime and then - it simply will not exist? How powerful a thought it is to destroy my identity in one swing and then am reduced to nothing, a nobody, there is no identity left, there is no ME left.

Here is another kind of philosophy - equally intriguing!

Deleting a file in the computer:
It’s an interesting piece of philosophy to note when we contemplate on how a file is deleted from the system. When a file is removed from the recycle bin, all traces of it are lost. This doesn’t mean that the file doesn’t exist, but it simply means that the path to the file is non existent or forgotten. At this point the file continues to exist in a compressed, almost negligible form with little hope of being retrieved. Isn’t that the same state of our supreme consciousness, or the Self as we call it, which makes the file have its own identity?

The underlying pulse of the operating system which is similar to our mind is to keep all that is illusory and defined by my existence that is ME, the person and discard the subtle self which is not of any apparent importance. And therefore the discarded file feels like the consciousness that we look for but never find the pulse of our existence which we know is there but do not know the nature of. And having lost the path to it, there is little chance of us trying to trace back to this neglected aspect of ourselves.

Hard disk - Subtle component of my consciousness
And yet, there is hope to retrieve that deleted file from the hard disk, which symbolizes our consciousness. If we can access the hard disk we can access the door to awakening our mind to the real depth of existence. This leads the way to the inner workings of the self, or in this case, the inner workings of the OS. Retrieving the file from the hard disk is not an easy task. 

There are only two ways now, one is to retrieve the file with software as long as no further activity took place which in turn destroys it and the other is to reformat the hard disk. Isn’t this a metaphorical representation of taking the help of yoga practices or meditation to access the inner consciousness of the mind and reach the state of bliss? Just as software can retrieve the lost files as long as no further change took place, the body and mind can be trained to follow certain discipline to reach the inner consciousness or subtle state, when detachment towards the current existence sets in.

But in case we continued activity as usual with creating, editing and deleting files there is a greater chance of losing that file, we then just have to format the hard disk to reuse it again. It’s like rebirth, a second life, a second chance to start all over again.

To merge into the self, to retrieve the inner most pulse of the OS, is to touch what hides in the chamber of hard disk. This is the mother ship of the OS, it is the home of consciousness in the human body and to tap it is to come to realize the true potential of the human state. The operating system is just the mind; the binary is the absolute truth.

The nucleus of the operating system, the basic life breath of it is the 0 1 state, and this is the duality of life that gives rise to this great illusion. This is the pulse, the constant on which the entire system of the OS operates and therefore the world in the bargain proving to be one big illusion which can be destroyed in a simple shot.

What then is 0 or 1, the absolute truth that continues to stay even if the entire virtual universe is destroyed? How do we identify with this universe and contemplate on the raw truth of absolute 0 from which we have built the world's greatest economy... isn’t is exactly similar to the real world we live in, in flesh and blood, and yet we do not understand how the universe created us and how it works but we are willing to understand how the absolute 0 created a powerful world economy!

Why? We have now built the proof of its existence; we now need to apply this miracle to our very own self, to realize the capability of the Self within! How ironical it is that we ask for the same proof that we built to prove the presence of this illusory world we have built around us to live in! We have evolved, we have the potential to realize and yet we live like fools who do not understand the true potential of their creation!

We are like a lost scientist who started out to know the truth and got so locked and enamored with his creation that he doesn’t know the root principle that got him started on this quest - He just has one fleeting thought - What was the question?

Sacred insights from the Tripura Rahasya

Inspired by Chapters 1 & 2 of Tripura Rahasya [THE MYSTERY BEYOND THE TRINITY]

Srinivasa looked up to the presence of the Lord within the sacred shrine of his home. How beautiful He looked, how completely divine in the presence of these white jasmine flowers that garland His being. How pure does He shine in the light of this ghee lamp. Srinivasa sat back contemplating for a few minutes, his mind relaxed, his eyes glowing in rapture and his hair stood on end as if his ecstasy could not be contained within his being... he was in complete union with divinity.

It may have been just a few moments but they were profound, immersed in deep bhakti he looked up to the shrine in surrender, imbibing the complete moment of spiritual rapture he had felt within his being. He then prostrated on the floor bowing to the shrine. He had tasted the elixir of spiritualism, the sweet fruit of his worship and now he wanted to be in its presence for as long as he could. He realized the beauty of selfless worship and thirsted to practice this ancient sacred lore as much as he could. He went round and bowed to the sacred shrine hoping to relive this moment of rapture again.

Srinivasa now commenced his worship, reciting verses from the sacred texts, following every ritual prescribed and keeping every step clear in execution and yet he didn't completely understand the method itself or the meaning of the ritual worship he had been performing all these years. What had this worship have to do with the workings of the greater universe? Where does it start from and where does it end in all its grandeur? The worldly happenings seem so strangely permanent and yet they are considered not to be so. He sat back thinking, taking his own example...he remembered nothing of his childhood, he was different in his youth, and he is different in his manhood and in this way his life constantly changes. And therefore what is the result of these changes? What is the purpose of this change? It didn't make no sense to him.

The end justifies the means adopted by the seeker according to their temperaments. Are we really happy? Well then, having gained one purpose why do we look for another? Therefore is the only real purpose the accession of pleasure or the removal of pain? Therefore does the purpose drive the incentive for the effort to last. How then is a beggar any different from an emperor, he labors for happiness as much as an emperor does. Each of them having gained their purpose feels happy that they have been blessed as if they have reached the goal of their lives. And I too have been unwittingly imitating them, like a blind man who follows another. How completely stupid is this way of existence!

Srinivasa, sat in deep thought, he now wished he could cross this deep ocean of doubt with the teachings he had gathered. He now knew, his only way was to mentally surrender to the supreme. He realized his happiness lies in the constant moment of rapture that enveloped him while he worshiped the Lord. He wished this moment to be unbroken and undisturbed.

Prayers to God are selfish in the beginning, yet they not only fulfill one's desire but they also purify the mind. Devotion now grows in intensity and the seeker so desires nothing more than the presence of the Lord himself. If lucky, the Lord's grace is shown upon him in the manifestation of a Guru, who comes to his doorstep more by the play of circumstance than his very own search.

Misery is not the absence of happiness, but the limitation of it, for when happiness recedes, misery flows in. This is not the only miserable result of action, but worse than this is the fear of death which cannot be mitigated by any amount of action. How can transient mental concepts of devotion produce permanent results of higher truth? More over these practices are continuous and there seems to be no end to obligatory duties in one's life. How does one free himself from these obligations and seek real happiness, and yet great souls do so!

But when they do, they laugh at the ways of the world, they walk up the road of fearlessness with no concern at all, just like a majestic elephant refreshes itself in a pool of melted snow when the surrounding forest is on fire! They are completely happy and are free from any sense of obligation**. How does one reach this state? How does one escape from the jaws of Karma. As long as a man is afraid of his obligations, so long must he placate it or else he will not find peace. Similar is the fate of people who in the quest of happiness fall into the trap of action. One should not be in this state of distraction.

The only salvation to get out of this state is contemplation, the need to investigate and realize the purpose of one's existence. Can the sweet waters of dew ever collect in the sandy desert which are already scorched by heat? When the Goddess, Devi, is pleased with the worship of the devotee, she turns into Vichara** in him and shines as the blazing sun in the expanse of his heart.

Vichara is the only way to attain higher good. Vichara is the only weapon to fight the overpowering disease of ignorance. If vichara takes root the higher good for all practical purposes has been reached. So long as vichara doesn't take root, one's life remains barren and therefore useless. The only fruit of life is vichara.

Srinivasa thought, a man without the sense of vichara, is like a frog in the well that doesn't know anything, either of good or bad, and dies in the very same well of ignorance. If we forever continue to run away dispassionately from misery and seek the depths of pleasure, we can never escape from the cycle of birth and death just as a jack-ass pursues a she-ass even if kicked a hundred times by her.We will therefore never give up our thirst and ignorance will continue to prevail.

Srinivasa collected himself. There was only one way forward - contemplation on the self and the purpose of one's life in this sea of obligation within the darkness of ignorance.

===================================================

**Free from obligation doesn't mean that it is not performed, it is performed but with no attachment to the act or the fruits of its result. As the Gita rightfully says, we cannot escape action or inaction, but we can escape its karma by the detachment from the obligation itself.

**Vichara - Discrimination, investigation, deliberation, judgment 

Reflecting on Plato's "Allegory of the cave"

I was this candle that never burned
I was this piece of matter that exists in this universe without purpose
I was this drop of life that thought I breathe and therefore I am
 
There was a deep cave in the forest, a cave so dark with an entrance so small that no light managed to cross through the mouth of the cave to light up its walls inside. But something was strange about this cave for within its walls lived a group of people. They had lived there for many years with their hands tied and their faces to the wall that stood opposite to the mouth of the cave. This was their life, this is how they had always been, this is what they had been taught to do and this was how they existed. Every day the only awakening they had was the changing colors of the wall in front of them. It turned white in the early hours of the morning, moving to a bright yellow by noon and changing to a glowing orange by evening and then to inky blackness by night. And they were happy to live, in this familiar little world of known comforts to see these colors repeat themselves on the wall of the cave.

For some this was a common occurrence, for a few others it didn’t strike a chord at all but for one man in their midst, it was a growing miracle, that flowered every day and faded by night to bloom again in the morning. He was a romantic, a poet in his heart and though the others mocked at him, he sang to himself, certain that there was more to these miraculous colors but strange as it may sound, none of them ever turned to see the mouth of the cave to ever figure out what was really happening. They continued to live as they were, creating imaginary problems in their lives and solving them as they went along, the only assurance in their reality was the periodic change in the colors on the wall.

It was one such day, very normal to their lives as the white turned to yellow and then to a glow of orange. But strangely that night there was a burning glow of red on the wall instead of the inky blackness. This sent shock through all those within, leading to fear of the unfamiliar and horror over the change in regular pattern. The glow of red grew brighter and danced around the walls, leaving them puzzled wondering what kind of strange heavenly phenomenon could this be? Speculations ran wild, sentiments were hurt as people hurled fiery words at each other insisting that they were right but none of them even turned around to the mouth of the cave. And then there was peace, the deep red turned to the familiar inky blackness they were so comfortable with and they retired for the night.

The next day started again as always but by evening the burning orange gave way to the crimson red that leaped all over the walls increasing the fear of the people inside who wondered what magical phenomenon this was. But this time one of the men decided he would do what no one else dared. He believed in his miracle, he believed there was a God and he decided to dare and see what was at the mouth of the cave. What caught his eyes were the leaping flames of a breath taking fire, so bright and graceful as it climbed through the air in its glorious shades of color. He turned back in excitement, he couldn’t withstand the bliss he felt of having seen the glimpse of divinity at the entrance of the cave. He tried to explain the phenomenon to the others, that it was a leaping flame at the entrance of the cave but no one was ready to hear him and no one really wanted to know the secret of the glowing flames.

That evening and even stranger event occurred. As the cave dwellers got used to the glowing red, they were now comfortable to see its dancing hues of the wall and that event too was no more than an occurrence from the position it held as a miracle some time ago. But this night it was even weirder. As they continued to look up to the wall in all its glowing redness, there suddenly appeared stark black forms that sprang around the wall. They were fast, agile and sure footed, they barely stayed in one place, they flew faster than anyone to spot them in a single place. They were real and they grew larger and shrunk slowly and disappeared into the redness. The cave dwellers looked on again at the wall with horror, wondering what was going on. They feared the worst that all hell broke loose to come and grab them and vanquish them all.

And once again the same man decided to take a second change and turn to the mouth of the cave. This time he turned to see something even more spectacular. There was a group of beautiful women, so beautiful and so richly dressed, so graceful and so magical, he breathlessly looked on to seeing them float around the glowing flames dancing with its burning arms as if in an enigmatic embrace. Their bodies glowed in yellow gold, their skin shimmered in the red glow of the light as then enjoyed the moment of love and beauty while they hopped around the flames is such splendor. And then the inky blackness of the night shrouded this beautiful view he just had a glimpse of. He was too excited the next morning and tried to explain to the others in the cave, about the fire and the women. They called him mad, they thought he was insane and they mocked at him to make him a recluse, disowning him for his thoughts and for this excitement over things that never were real, that never took place for what they saw were giant beings on the wall and what he tried to explain was the shadows of damsels dancing around a fire. He was beaten by all, to have even shared such a wild imagination for no one believed in any such occurrence.

He didn’t give up, for he sang out loud, he burst into poetry to describe the women he had set his eyes on. He sang about the red glow, about the fire and about the graceful women who threw stark shadows on the wall. He was proclaimed mad and in a few days he was beaten for spreading such wild thoughts to scare the people and shake the peace in which they lived. He was considered a misfit and unanimously elected to be stoned to death. As be breathed his last, he sang out loud, describing how a damsel danced by the flames, only to have her golden gown catch fire and set herself ablaze and be swallowed by the same fire that threw the red glow on the walls.

Many days later, the men continued to live on, staring at the same wall that shined bright yellow again. But the red glow had long gone, long disappeared for it seemed uncanny that it faded the very same time the man breathed his last. There was eerie silence in the cave, as the rest of them continued to be, alone in their silence, uncomfortable with their existence. And then it happened, a strong wind blew and raised the dust in the cave. The wind was strong and forced them to bend low and close their eyes. And as the dust 
settled, they slowly opened their eyes to look up to the wall... a small piece of a golden cloth, half burnt and faded, flew along the wall to disappear into the inner darkness of the cave... 

They looked up at the wall and then into the darkness in shock.. and all they could remember were his last words as he died singing away...

I am the fire that burns this candle
I am the glow that give the diamond its life
I am the soul that leave this body
I am the truth you killed with all your might.

I am your only hope to salvation
I am that which you do not wish to seek
I am the free bird who dared to turn
I am the light that now leaves this cave.

* -*-*

Reflecting on the Allegory of the cave

The Allegory of the Cave, also commonly known as Myth of the Cave, Metaphor of the Cave, The Cave Analogy, Plato's Cave or the Parable of the Cave, is an allegory  used by the Greek philosopher Plato in his work The Republic to illustrate "our nature in its education and want of education". (514a) The allegory of the cave is written as a fictional dialogue between Plato's teacher Socrates  and Plato's brother Glaucon, at the beginning of Book VII in Benjamin Jowett's translation and in chapter IX in Robin Waterfield's translation(514a–520a).

Here's more on Plato's Allegory of the cave

The experience of Shivahood, the state of real bliss.

The inner search for the Lord in the environs that we live in is practically impossible to keep the mind in focus towards a single goal, especially when it is not shared by anyone around us.

To work and make money is a goal we can all talk about, to buy real estate and get married are topics every one is interested in, but to talk about a spiritual goal hardly has any takers for a discussion. Yet it is a fight at some point in everyone's mind to want to know what spiritualism is.

What is illusion, inner soul and the beauty of enlightenment? What do we mean when we say these words, what are we meant to experience? Going to a temple in the city and having a glimpse of the Lord is not going to get us the answer. How do we even try to remotely get to this experience?

The only answer that hits my mind to get a glimpse of this supernatural effect is a visit to Tungnath or Mount Kailasa or some such remote place. I am sure that other places can, in some form render the same result, but a difficult trek to Tungnath or Kailasa are sure hits. Why? Because when the mind decides to do this journey it has agreed that its going to be physically challenging, it does not promise a darshan in winter and therefore time of the year matters and by the time we even get a glimpse of the destination, the mind and the body have had enough but the only energy that rules is the emotion to achieve the pilgrimage.

Let’s start from the beginning, gathering information on any of these two journeys defines that the weather may not support the trip and there is room for a flop. Just viewing pictures gives a rough indication that these treks are long and pains taking and there is hardly any help in the way. The altitude gives a feeling of distance from comfort that it results in mental detachment from all materialism, all emotion, and all attachment. The very fact that the mind decided to do this trek means that the emotions and the soul are ready to have a glimpse of this superior power.

At the foothills, before we begin the actual journey, the heart is overwhelmed that we made it this far, the mind is exhausted and can’t really entertain thoughts anymore. The difficulty now is the trek. Bleak regions, strong winds, bring the raw forces of nature close to us, so close that the familiarity of civilized life is a distant memory. Here there is only one thought - the discovery and the experience of the unknown. What stands in front of us is a snow capped mountain, cold, formidable, silent and powerful. And the only pool of resources we have is the fast diminishing reserves of energy within us. Food is brought down to the basic minimum and water may be hard to find and what’s more - money cant buy us anything here. Credit cards are a piece of junk here; because the rules that work here are very different. This is the first realization of detachment. This is also the first realization of freedom. 

As we take each step, the body begins to tire but the beauty of the region is a treat to the eye. The freedom to be in a land so bleak, the achievement to have fulfilled the wish to be here to imbibe the beauty of this land is a great feeling indeed. We can simply feel free to experience the power of this earth. How do we understand this power? Scaling these heights or even attempting to do the parikrama is a tedious effort of time, physical energy that is being squeezed out of every bone in the body to move the foot to the next step. All we have is the sheer will power to achieve this goal or overcome this challenge. We can look at it either way. Tungnath certainly doesn’t give the impression of easy enlightenment, its a difficult up slope trek that makes you, breaks you, exhausts you even before you made it to half the mark and we still do not have any sight of the temple. Kailasa parvat on the other side gives you a distant glimpse of its enormity and tells you to go home but doesn’t let you come any closer. In either case there is a realm of curiosity that is teased, the need to discover is prolonged and desire to break loose from the shackles of our existence and be one with the forces of nature can be reasonably enormous. Here too there is a strong echo of the dualism of life; this journey gives us the dual experience of frustration and spiritual bliss at the same time.

Approaching Tungnath on a winter morning

Do we ever get to feel this power? When we are exhausted and look up to the great temple or the mountain peak itself, the mind is blank and there is a sense of achievement to have reached or completed the trek. The minds eye now opens up to the forbidding reality in front of us. The world is at our feet, civilization is a distant reality and all that there is now is the Mountain and me. The first glimpse up close brings no thoughts to the mind, no words to the mouth, no fears to the heart and no pain to the body. The result of feeling this power is the feeling of being small and weep, weep like a baby full of emotion, and just pour out this overwhelming feeling into a pool of tears that are probably the most beautiful pearls of enlightenment we could generate selflessly. Just weeping into a pool of overwhelming love and emotions rolling out towards the power of the unknown is the most strangely blissful moment we can hold on to. If we felt this emotion at the moment of death, I guess we would be blessed with immortality.

The whole trek becomes a selfless journey of love, a churn of the mind and the body as it works its way up the spiritual grind of churning out the self from within. This emotion that floats to the surface of oneself is described very beautifully in a verse written by Thirumular.

Lord stands as Ghee in milk

He is Mukti, Jnana and Nada
That in the three branches of knowledge resound [poetry, music and dance]
Thus they praise the Lord
Through time unending;
As the ghee within milk
The pure one within them stands
That light they seek not and love not [2115]

Just as ghee belongs to the essence of milk, it floats on the surface of the milk untouched and unmoved. It is pure and concentrated and yet it doesn’t dissolve into the depths of the milk itself. Similarly the emotion of joy and supreme bliss that is felt on getting the closest view and discovering the Lord at these sacred shrines is an extraction from the process of churning the body, mind and emotions to reveal that we possess it. Once its out it floats of the surface of the milk of our existence, of our conscious self it is there to be experienced in all its purity and when it is experienced, what results is a tear of the overwhelming emotion of love.

The Mansarovar of my mind, Kailasa of my forehead

The three eyed Lord, is a term that has often echoed in my head and left me intrigued and jolted over the presence of an invisible third eye that when open throws rays of bright light or fire that enlightens me but may destroy others!

What a thought it is to reverberate the ideas of Thirumular who immaculately describes that Lord Shiva and His consort, the graceful red hued Parvati actually reside over my forehead. What does that mean? When the book says that it is possible that the Lord makes his presence felt by taking seat atop my fore, does it reflect in a glow around me, such that a person who looks at me wants to take a second glance, such that there is purity shining through of a different kind that leaves people speechless.

Its this strange spot between my eyebrows that intrigues me the most. Strange because it is at my crown, in the highest zone of my anatomy that dictates respect, and that anything scribbled over there has symbolism, meaning and depth to its presence.

This forehead is a canvas of a different kind, for anything that is drawn on it has a meaning to be there. Lets take a few examples.

If I, being a woman, were to draw a design and color it, with small sequence hanging on to it, it would reflect my need for explicitly enhancing my beauty, fueling my ego and my vanity and inducing seduction to some degree to the opposite sex.

If I, being a man, were to paint three vertical lines to the center of my forehead, I would be designating myself to a school of thought following a single God and dictating the power of Viashnavism.

If I, being a man or woman [either unmarried or widowed] had to put 3 horizontal lines of ash across my forehead, I would be declaring my inclination to another school of thought, namely Shaivism. I would be at the same time displaying my detachment to life and my need to know the truth that is beyond my being.

If I, being a man or woman, had to put a red dot at the center of my fore, I would determine the power of the Goddess reflecting through my face to the world around me. I would define my faith in the mother goddess cult and my deep faith in her worship.

If I, being a man or a woman, didn't put anything on my forehead but the Lord inscribed strange marks on the lines of my skin, I would have crossed the line of known spiritualism and entered a zone that no one but I would know of and that would lead to my evolution into the next plane of spiritual enlightenment.

The deep lines on the skin draw a parallel with the deep crevasses that make up the character of Mount Kailasa, the three horizontal lines starkly stand out between the rock and the snow awakening the presence of a deeper truth we scarcely have a hint of. The deep cut on the forehead of the great mountain Kailasa possibly depicts in a natural way, the half opened frozen third eye of the Lord, that could widen and shine through, bathing the world with its divine rays. How magical is that world, that the mountain reflects in the silent waters of the Manasarovar lake that describes the equilibrium of my thoughts, and of my mind.

As the Lalitasahasranamam says, the Goddess Parvati is like the swan that swims in the silent waters of the Manasa lake deep within my head. Isn't the picturesque view of the Mansarovar lake with the Kailasa towering beyond a real depiction of the inner silent truth of the Lord and the Goddess residing over my forehead?

The snow laden mountain with its deep crevasses clearly shown appears like the forehead of my mind is smeared with sacred white ash that glows in the light of the sun that shines upon it. How true it is that the Lord resides at Kailasa, how true it is that the Lord has taken seat upon my forehead, how true it is that the frozen vertical eye of the great mountain represents the dormant energy that is awakening within me to shine as the source of light that enlightens me and blinds the rest of the world with its power.

The secrets of ancient Hindu spiritualism are far beyond our normal capacity to understand, but a glimpse of this truth in the imagination of one's own thoughts and ideas can be the most intoxicating state of permanent bliss. And our forehead is the silent screen that depicts the level of spiritualism we are at. What a concept!

Memoirs of a floating Vilva

Within the lap of these virgin mountains
Deep inside a cave in the Himalayan foothills
Resides here a sacred shrine
Of Lord Shiva Yogishwara

A great saint had once meditated here
In the depths of this silent Gufa
Now lit up with a few oil lamps
Now home to the Lord and a few rodents

I am an offering of love and devotion
I am an offering pure and sublime
I reside here close to this sacred Linga
Awaiting the moment of release

In the early morning hours this winter
The priest comes and beholds
This divine form of the Lord
Ready to be bathed in Holy water

The sacred sprinkles touch the Lord
These pure waters of the Ganges
Flow down the smooth stone of this Linga
Taking me with it in its silent waves.

I leave behind this sacred home
My last home before I journey down
This silent rivulet reaches on
To the great Ganges flowing outside this cave door

Sweet syllables proclaim this freedom
Divine verses lift my earthly veil
Divine fragrance is my boat
As I float down to the Ganges beyond

Bright light breaks the darkness
As the waters make their way out
The cold gushing waters free my soul
I am on my way to my heavenly abode

I have lived with this earthly shrine
I have meditated to this divine fire
I am now one with the supreme being
Complete, enlightened, blessed.