There is no Meera.
A couple of failed attempts to post a new chapter with a different style have passed. I think my sonnet does not want me to change the metre.
Why?
What was it that Meera lacked whenever that rascal was near that prevented her from chastising him? As long as he stayed away from her garden, she could tell him not to come, but once he was there, what was it that made her melt?
Was it that his smile disarmed her? Was it the mere presence of his almighty spirit? Was it the intoxicating zephyr that wafted through the air, rising from the small holes in his wooden bansuri? The laughing pearls that twinkled at her from within their coral lips?
No. These were not the cause. It was not mere infatuation or physical lust. Nor was it love. It was the thread-by-thread unraveling of the ego in the presence of the whole. The lack of ego is what brought any remote sense of anger or sadness to a screeching halt.
When we enter a temple, it is said that we should leave our day-to-day lives – the worries that the veranda wasn’t locked properly, the stove not turned off or less close to home, like the politics or the latest bombing in the middle east – all of that is to be left outside, neatly in a row like our sandals at the doorstep.
This is a voluntary action that we take or do not take – for sometimes we may enter the temple with the express purpose of lamenting to the one closest to our heart. More often… in the presence of true divinity, we are not in any position to remember what it was we were going to lament about. Nor are we able to lament, even if we do remember, for it all seems so insignificant. Think of the few, fleeting, never-enough moments in the presence of Thirupathi Mr. Venkman sir.
If going to a temple to see the earthen representation of a deity can tame the egos of ordinary people, imagine how the reaction of the ego of one so filled with bhakthi would be in the presence of that Jagaddhodharana.
Sure, he torments her, teases her, tells her he will be there but does not come. Tells her he will save her like a knight in shining armor then does not, leaving her to fend for herself in this world of sane people. He asks for her blind faith that anything he asks of her is for a reason.
Remove the ego and the pride and none of that matters or even exists in 'your' world. all that is left is a bliss that is inescapably, addictively, delicious.
Meera’s ego, unraveled, she no longer dreams of being a wife, nor even a mistress since once one is engulfed in the eddy of bliss, it really doesn't matter what your status is. All that matters is the lightness and clarity that are part of losing the pull of that gravity called ego. All that matters is having the burden of samsara lifted from your soul.
“Chakara Rakho Ji. maine chakar rakhoji.”
Why?
What was it that Meera lacked whenever that rascal was near that prevented her from chastising him? As long as he stayed away from her garden, she could tell him not to come, but once he was there, what was it that made her melt?
Was it that his smile disarmed her? Was it the mere presence of his almighty spirit? Was it the intoxicating zephyr that wafted through the air, rising from the small holes in his wooden bansuri? The laughing pearls that twinkled at her from within their coral lips?
No. These were not the cause. It was not mere infatuation or physical lust. Nor was it love. It was the thread-by-thread unraveling of the ego in the presence of the whole. The lack of ego is what brought any remote sense of anger or sadness to a screeching halt.
When we enter a temple, it is said that we should leave our day-to-day lives – the worries that the veranda wasn’t locked properly, the stove not turned off or less close to home, like the politics or the latest bombing in the middle east – all of that is to be left outside, neatly in a row like our sandals at the doorstep.
This is a voluntary action that we take or do not take – for sometimes we may enter the temple with the express purpose of lamenting to the one closest to our heart. More often… in the presence of true divinity, we are not in any position to remember what it was we were going to lament about. Nor are we able to lament, even if we do remember, for it all seems so insignificant. Think of the few, fleeting, never-enough moments in the presence of Thirupathi Mr. Venkman sir.
If going to a temple to see the earthen representation of a deity can tame the egos of ordinary people, imagine how the reaction of the ego of one so filled with bhakthi would be in the presence of that Jagaddhodharana.
Sure, he torments her, teases her, tells her he will be there but does not come. Tells her he will save her like a knight in shining armor then does not, leaving her to fend for herself in this world of sane people. He asks for her blind faith that anything he asks of her is for a reason.
Remove the ego and the pride and none of that matters or even exists in 'your' world. all that is left is a bliss that is inescapably, addictively, delicious.
Meera’s ego, unraveled, she no longer dreams of being a wife, nor even a mistress since once one is engulfed in the eddy of bliss, it really doesn't matter what your status is. All that matters is the lightness and clarity that are part of losing the pull of that gravity called ego. All that matters is having the burden of samsara lifted from your soul.
“Chakara Rakho Ji. maine chakar rakhoji.”
posted by crazybard at 10:36 AM
3 Comments:
Mr.Venkman - good one. Tee hee. He lives to remind us what it is like to forget wily Maya. Maybe that's why her minions never let us linger there for longer than a minute?
hmm..
why did her ego go? she has had a fairly large ego? why she always forgive him? she loves him.. thats y? does he love her too? i doubt it, he will leave standing high and dry.. she will be broken hearted and lost..
how selfless one gets when they love. for what i ask? for broken promises and shed tears..
her ego is her sense of self. not any pride, or arrogance. just the knowledge of individual existence.
she lost that sense that she is 'she' and became part of 'I.'
Aham Brahmasmi
But this only happened when they were united. When he was there.
To Him... forgive me if it sounds callous or blasphemous, but she was just another 'me.'
The devas and other gods prayed and yearned for one thing only - to be born as human.
why?
to feel that love. to feel that pain. to feel broken hearted. to feel jealous. to be able to shed tears and to hurt when promises are broken.
to feel.
At first glance, all of this seems quite unpalatable. Some of us just feel too tired. We want it to simply end. We want to not feel the pain. Not feel anything but oblivion.
But imagine if we were incapable of feeling it. Imagine if the only feeling was of bliss and quiet.
Light without darkness?
The only real solution is a cycle. Birth and death
Bliss and Pain
Love and Torment
I and we
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