The Ballad of Two Errors

Infinity-Yoga for All : A Ballad of The Two Errors

Surendran Karippadath

May I speak, ... ? I am an Eman from the community of emotional men, Offering my prayers to enable me to express only that which truly resides within me, Offering my prayers to be free of:

ERRORS OF THE FIRST KIND arising from nondiscrimination of the inner world of truth and the outer world of ignorance, and

ERRORS OF THE SECOND KIND arising from identifications of the inner world into the forms of the outer world Wish to express only that which I am urged to by my own conduct in this world, Wish to pay my respects to the countless beings who have experienced the freedom they were born with, Prefer to speak... On the nature of the things I gathered during those watchful hours of the restful darkness of night, Having witnessed... The origin and dissolution of fear, The coming and going of thieves and bandits, The rising and falling of the trembling leaf, The rising and ebbing of the cry of a new-born baby, The rising and falling of the lonely wave, The rising and falling of the living breath, The beginning and ending of a thunderbolt, The appearing and disappearing of a chain of words,

The appearing and disappearing of a tribe of men and women, The arising of space from non-space and life from non-life, ........................... Verily desire to express that which seem self evident and that which seem to be present in all.

I am in search of words to state the higher law subjecting the fate of men, women and their communities, the law that subjugates the principle of growth and decay and long life, which has assumed the status of the law of rational scientific enterprise of the modern age. Why? Because, a time comes in the life of a every emotional man when either he rediscovers this higher law or succumbs to the lower law. The lower law focuses on the means to stay alive as long as possible, we as individuals, we as communities and as one of the large part of humanity on this earth. Even that may not be possible in the present circumstances when the lower law has assumed such awesome vitality in the hands of the captains, the pirates and the mercenaries, the masters of colonialism and industrial revolution. Once the law is accepted as 'fate' there is no escape; one can only strive to lengthen the suffering. Those who do not accept this as the highest law find darkness spreading every corner of the mind, be it the mind reflecting the meaning of life, be it the mind living in comfort after conveniently rationalizing the bits and pieces of meanings drawn from here and there, often giving it the sanction of tradition or that of modernity, but mainly decided by the source and extent of their successes; or, the mind engaged in the day to day struggle to stay alive, the struggle in which all meanings have got mixed up with hunger for one type or other. When a man, tribe or community is reduced to process day and night the methods of staying alive, searching for food, cloth and shelter of the lower variety or the higher variety, it gets trapped and its own intuition of the world appears meaningless and unreal. If the individual soul is sensitive enough either he will commit suicide unmindful of the public law or turn neurotic. Even a tribe may turn neurotic gripped by the fear of impending extinction or yield by becoming slaves!( Eman met the headman who uttered the prophesy in a drawl : This forest will disappear. The spirits will take flight and so also the songs of my folk. He took a handful of mud in hand and shouted: This earth would disappear along with me!) A country may yield and say alive under some form of oppression or slavery. Or, it will regenerate some active principle within its psyche, by comprehending its

potentialities and seek and realize some expression of it in order to gain some space to answer the problem of staying, and in the process achieve something more significant - find the means of subjecting the law of growth and decay to a higher law. It is inevitable that this active principle must result in a new synthesis characteristic of the age and the people who express it. It is inevitable that it is characterized by a continuity with the syntheses attempted by them before, marked by a comprehension of the meaning of immortality. In the following pages Eman expresses this possibility of the rediscovery of the higher law, for members of his tribe express their desire to do so. He is determined to meet one and all, and alas, each one rekindles the same desire! For, he is waking up the friend of every one in his own self, the emotional man, the dual of the rational scientific man who is his sworn enemy. The Eman finds his words often unable to express the fire burning in the hearts of his friends, and finds that he is repeating revelations known to his enemy, who names them facts, ideas and theories. But he is not worried; for, he is hopeful that there is somewhere in it a lucid note which will play on all the lips to become part of the great melodious song. So, he is apt to make the mistake of mixing up time and space and does not drop in any names. He knows only too well that it is unlikely that any soul, whose name he knows, found the meaning of those words first! Thus, the Eman is a symbol, a symbol of the man trampled upon and kicked about by his counterpart, the rational scientific man and his enterprise. The emotional man is the irreducible being or its immediately self-evident form residing in all men and who is perennially yearning to evolve beyond the what his counterpart defines his territory to be. The emotional man is the most familiar abstract thing that we know. Abstract indeed, for the relativity of abstract and concrete belongs to the realm of the rational man. But he is also the most fearless companion! Listen to one of his tunes:

I long to open the window to your freedom! But, alas! my limbs and hands are tied, I am locked up in a little black box like a genie; But, I am ready to swallow your fear, Sir! For, I am the slave of this Spirit of Quest.

Thus goes the humble song of the emotional man, facing the perennial aggression of the rational scientific man. Beyond the present context, the Eman is visible as the pre-historic man, primitive

man, the village man, mad man, religious man, eastern man etc, singing other songs in other places. Eman is at the village fair, at the marriage of his friend's daughter, at the funeral of the headman, the pundit and at the tearful naming ceremony of the first daughter in a hundred years. He is particular in attending all the rituals and listening to all the murmurs and chants in the courtyard as well as the inner dark cellars. He is listening to the tears unaccompanied by words, bewilderment and pathos on that fateful night when all the newborn fell to the plague one after the other. He was at the riverside after the body of the last boy of the village went up in flames. He had shared the deep depression from utter poverty and desolation and faced the wind of helplessness that was blowing during that summer or during that whole month of Aashad when not a hearth was burning for days together and no one was willing to speak. What country, whose country, ...? By now he had witnessed the profound mystery on these faces, the mystery of being alive as human beings. And he found that he could not speak!

Listen and Understand! What goes into a man's mouth, does not make him unclean; It's what comes out of his mouth, that makes him unclean.

And, when he spoke of the tragedy, Eman was in the company of the deaf and mute, the turmoil on their faces expressed it all. They told him : you can speak and listen to your own words, look at me! Eman was in the city zoo, and he saw the far away look in the eyes of the animals kept in the cages, piercing the treetops in the far away forest. He had just witnessed the same gaze in the eyes of the outsiders sitting huddled in pouring rain in the tents by the side of the filthy nullah. He saw the cruel fate and unsurpassed tragedy of the native men being plundered by the aggressive man. He saw them aimlessly wandering, aimlessly?, saw them returning to their shanties at sundown - not unlike the birds flying in file to make it before it gets dark. For it is a long way. The modern man has filled his fertile land with an awesome luggage : power plants, playgrounds, cities and factories and airports. Eman was at the theater. He had met his friends from innumerable tribes and natives telling the stories of being wiped out, their endless travails under conquests of the owners of the timber marts and factories. He found them speaking a line or two which meant :

Is it worth the salt to live like this, unable to fulfill for certain even one of the promises I gave my mother? Eman met countless friends who repeated the same lines : we have to pull on somehow ... For the sake of the children, for the sake of the aged parents, live somehow until, until,... we disappear! Eman was by now used to being addressed as the irrational man by his counterpart, when he heard his friends mutter to themselves : Why should it be so terrible? He knows his answer lies beyond his words, his description and has to keep the secret in his heart as the only thing of real value. He comes across descriptions more and more unsatisfactory and incomplete. He finds his brothers keeping the same secret in moments of grief and despair, on lonely lanes in the tranquility of dawn and twilight of dusk. He had spoken to the countless ones who arrived at the end, who found life was not worth living, simply found it not meaningful, necessary - the martyrs among the oppressed. He had spoken to the countess ones who were locked up in asylums for they were too friendly with him. How does he discharge his feeling of gratitude for their friendship? When will he speak out to the aggressive rational scientific man on their behalf? Eman grew up babysitting and overheard the mother's prayer : My lord,let the right thoughts come to my child on all occasions! He struggled to know if he had the right thoughts when he woke up and saw the sun pouring though the tall trees, through the trembling leaves in the morning breeze, through the tiny spider web. He wondered if he had the right thoughts when he first touched water in the morning, when he met the first bird, the first dog , the very first man, the first woman. And later in the day when he saw the leaf falling, the bird flying, the flower blooming, when he looked up and saw the saw the clouds moving against motionless blue! Later, still on the same day, the clouds had gathered in bright dresses to send off the sun and Eman watched without batting an eyelid the colorful departure, did he have the right thoughts? He wondered when the darkness descended, the owls screeched and he heard the drumbeats of the approaching ghosts following the roar of the seashore. He was still wondering if he had the right thoughts about all of them, now that they are all asleep; if he had the right thoughts when they were awake. Or if he had the right thoughts about their waking up, about the rising of the sun and moon, about the movement of the leaves and branches, about the falling of the leaves and the meteors,..., the doings, Oh! the endless doings of the beings, gods and ghosts? Eman was in trance on that day for a considerable long period at the end of which, 'as it was to a person, who is energetic,strenuous and resolute,' discovered the meaning of the mother's prayer. Alas, not from endless arguments with himself or with his friends, but when at the end of it all asked himself thus : What if I use the principle that made my mother pray for something she did not know what it is, which she did not want for herself, which she did not receive by hours of wandering, austerities and renunciations?

At once, Eman was sure he felt the agony of the mother and the agony of the creator in himself. He shivered from the intense jolts as if he was the sea shore and the waves charging him up and down. Eman heard a bird singing within him:

Acindyam_avyaktam_anantaroopam sivam prasantam_amrutam brahma_yonim Tath_adi_madhy_anta_viheenam_ekam vibhum cidanandam_aroopam_adbhutam!!! Eman felt energized. He jumped out. He found himself by the side of a beautiful lake. The moon was up and suddenly ... He saw the determination to be immortal and a readiness for rebirth in the body of that huge tree standing tall with a few yellow leaves. Eman sat down and waited. He wanted to see the tree taking a rebirth. It seemed a very long wait indeed. The tree was deliberately shedding the very last leaf and seemed to take a bath in the moonlight all night long. Eman was patient and did not fall asleep. But he was not looking at the tree in focus. He was not seeing anything. Beyond he saw countless beings being born again and again. And, when he woke up at last free from the currents flowing up and down within him, he saw the tree spontaneously dressing in tender green. He prayed that his friend was there too to take a rebirth. He could get out of the asylum then in a moment of great glory. He was sure he had the right thoughts now, for he was seeing the rebirths of countless friends, he was seeing the rebirth of his country. He began to sing:

My dear friend, You knew all the sages by instinct, Knew all the symbolism by heart, Verified the art of discrimination till the source, And the synthesis of all the known till we met. My friend,... You thought wisdom natural, lurking behind the ideas and opinions, striving for achieving goals no one has set!

You often said :things are not so difficult! It's not difficult to see, to feel to accompany; but few woke up early enough in the morning. I have been with you face to face, with the endless dialogue outside. Saw the noise inside growing rich and greedy, eating up every lucid line, every handsome stroke of your brush. Now, you do not venture to sing; my friend, when you had the richest voice! You were not wrong to say What evolution, my foot! None of you feel the Dinosaur's bulk standing on this mountain of sand. Knowledge, like the castles, are built for the kings to rule. See, how words have rendered meaningless more things than they described. You saw the power of twilight spreading from the west, saw the despair descending on the east, knew how natural to feel scared of the night! You often told me: We are truly the most blessed, if only the press was not invented! Colors are made from leaves and seeds, Sounds and pictures drawn by hand.

You thought it cruel the bomb was being described more affectionately than the seed; the rocket described as more fantastic than the bird. You often sang the song: The seed was sown as the season came, the bird flies the way it saw, quiet bundles of awareness, Suchness indeed! You told me countless times Stories could be short and sweet, if only drawn countless times in the mind's eye. characters grow fewer in number, relations grow to be perfect. the world is small indeed when things are being conveyed. In the mustard seed garden manual of painting, Bamboo singing in the wind is drawn with a few essential strokes; You knew what it is to see the essential, what it is to make the diamond cut. It is pure soot hardened into stones of charm and desire. the essential of the knife meeting, the essential of the stone. What a beautiful way to discover!

Now I know why you often told me I would rather be my own ancestor singing one lucid note in the monsoon wind, before the pond is full. And now the frogs have taken over! We were fond of telling each other this discussion is endless 'It is plain simple, if only... Categories from within are not mixed up with those from without! These thinkers are honorable men, only, ...mindless to the essentials. You were apt to say too much needs to be said to be heard But surely, surely,... Beyond the clamor outside there is the still wait for the essential voice that comes not too often. Now, I know, my friend, why you could not contain it, and was forced into the dark dungeons. You were truly riding free in the open strong winds blowing day and night. You were seeing more clearly when things were not clear themselves Life, like the immediate past

was pressing to be hasty On...Now... Say it! I could hear your cry I am still aware of the winds of change And soon a civilization will grow; Aware, aware like a crystal ball! The Eman knows that all around him all the energy, indeed the whole energy and vitality of the intelligence of the being is directed to solve the problem of living. It is as if the problem of meaning had already been solved by the ancestors long long ago , when there was neither scarcity nor plenty. Today, the world appears distinctly divided into those haunted by scarcity and those troubled by plenty. The Eman suffers for the return of the problem of meaning, when there will neither be poverty nor plenty. That will have to wait!

The Harvest is plentiful! And, workers are few. Eman was listening to dissertations of the learned, specialties he learns have acquired unlimited sophistication, unlimited power to construct. He shakes his head in disbelief 'Not this, Not this,...' Eman has become experienced in this marketplace of descriptions. He can now smell the significant things happening around him. Endowed with a passionate zeal for grasping the true significance of the works of the times, finds to his utter disbelief that less and less,... and now almost nothing, touches even remotely the center of his being...beyond his labor, beyond his responsibilities, his customs and rituals, beyond just keeping himself alive. And slowly he senses the stirrings originating within him, freedom, immortality, rebirth, fate and host of significant realities unpleasant to his rational counterpart. But, mostly, in the face of the uncaring might of his present master, he has to withdraw muttering to himself :'after all, the meanings have been nicely expressed here,..., there, by the ancestors, illuminated and elaborated by our masters in our sastras. Our masters?, our sastras?, who are we? And, thus does he postpone indefinitely the crucial task of the rediscovery of meanings, discovery of new meanings. Instead, he gets busy with the problem of living. Thus, the men who starved and suffered, braved all obstacles in the path, sustaining the struggle with a vision characteristic of the Eman, now forsakes it all; just as the hero of the vital man searching for the beautiful princess of his dreams, wanders across continents of forests and mountains beyond the seven seas, braving

the winds and ghosts, finally releasing all his vital energy at the altar of a living princess whom he finds! The Eman does not crave for food, shelter and clothing! 'oh, the rains shall soon come, we'll sow and reap enough,... this mud hut, thatch here, the tree there or the cave beyond would be fine, and stitch our clothes in all the fall colors. Should I weep or laugh when the King and his durbar advise us to apply our whole mind to fulfill the three cravings and starve like this? Eman then sings his song about keeping the oneself alive:

When there is wealth in the sky, air, earth and water Trees in my countryside eat their food, Build their houses and dress up; All on their own...effortlessly, Responding to the cosmic moods. And, the animals and and birds?, you would ask. They find a shade and keep their skins clean, Eat their fill and keep busy,...almost effortlessly. Then sit and contemplate a thousand things, Are quick to know the change in light , the roar of thunder and fall of rain as well. The men in my countryside, Spend all day eating their meals, Spend all their nights dreaming of the food to be eaten! Something within me tells: To be free from hunger is infinite blessing, and also infinite ignorance! The former leads to the desire to forsake wealth, the latter leads to the desire to seek it! The rational man draws his sustenance from the world-as-it-is, as it appears to him, his 'real world'.

Eman draws his sustenance from the world-as-it-always-was, the world-as-it-will-be and progressively... the world-as-it-can-only-be! In short, the world that he does not know, the potential world. No wonder, the rational man thinks of him as his true complement. The rational man interprets religion, defines the good man, moral man laying then the rules of conduct for his race, distinguishes one race from another. Eman prays from his heart, searches his innermost heart for the right and wrong. And in so learning to see directly, to be free of rationality, mixes up the gods, races and men. The gods whisper in his ears:

'I am neither in the temple nor in the mosque, I am neither in Kaaba nor in Kailash, Neither am I in rites and ceremonies, Nor in Yoga and renunciation.

Eman exclaims loudly:

'None tells me of this bird That sings within me!

The rational man writes prose, strives to explain to the whole world the logic of his constructions, the order of his deductions, the complexity of the relationships. Eman writes poetry and forever tries to transcend the narrative. In doing so, his descriptions often acquires esoteric dimensions, a mystical air diffuse from his verses, and symbolic become his words. He sings his songs and recites his verses; but really he is forever perfecting his sruti, creating an ambient of divine sounds resonating a vibrant transmission to his own self, as he surrenders to his guru, his deities and gods residing in his heart. He fixes his gaze on the horizon, the limit of his universe bordering the infinite, the source of his life, the end of his journey, the unknown.

'There is a land where no doubt or sorrow have rule Where terror of death is no more!

Eman has to struggle to find words; his own words, he finds are swallowed by the silence of eternity,' where the sounds of unstruck drums are not yet heard'. He cries out :

'My Friend, my beloved Lord is within There are no words to tell that which he is! The Guru is great beyond words, And great indeed is the fortune of the disciple.

Eman started his prayers long before the rational man began his ceremonies. When did his vocation begin? When did his love have its rise?

When he, whose forms are manifold' had not begun his day, When there was no Guru and disciple, When the world was not spread out, When the supreme one was alone,...Then.

Eman continues,...

In the plains and mountains of my countryside, The sun's brilliance is beyond words! He who is the creator and preserver is also the destroyer. In the fields,...alas, not a single tree is dressed well to receive the light of the matchless one, The landmarks lie buried in heaps of dust, To clothe them fresh in tresses , to sweep the earth of the fallen leaves, when will the storm come?

Eman knows that the true strength of the rulers and the ruled. He knows it is foolish to match the might of the rulers with the same weapons. That will be trying to match knowledge with ignorance; for, the rulers who wield their weapons every day knows their power. He asks,' how do I know I'll wield the same weapons differently? Or, I will not attack from behind to usurp the throne? Alas, this is not my aim!'. If that be his aim, he will have to make his sword, if not today, tomorrow. But this prospect does not inspire him. Eman says : That will be my last resort, for I'd have destroyed myself in doing so. I know the truth of the wars : wars have been fought for survival of the aggressor, when he hit upon the idea that that is the only way to survive, live longer to achieve immortality. Aha, if this war is being fought for survival, then I should stop it before it is too late. I must stop this progress. My blood boils and I should destroy systematically the whole and watch from other worlds the act of creation once again. And if the war is for an idea, that idea is of the market place driving men to draw the sword first. Ideas do not constitute men, life is above all ideas.

Thus when the rational man goes about managing the affairs of the day, sure belief in the books of the times, determined to wield the power he has inherited, Eman disappears underground, finding fault with his own fate, but neighbor, not his country, not his rulers.

This law is not of me, by me, for me..., when we discover, we discover new laws, those now forsaken by the gods rediscover the gods in new shapes, those now forsaken by the machines will find new machines in new forms!

Aha, if only I could forget myself. In the process of preparing for the harmonious action of neighbors and brothers, he discovers the ecstasy of all. He sings :

You do not start by living, start searching for what you can learn,

see inside where the mind gets set. Sustain only that mind, heart and hand, till you have perceived your own forms. Then, create them wrought in silver or gold, marble , sand, snow or silk, Till such time you suffer and see ; your life maintained by your brothers far and near, until you are aware your are alive, until you know you possess a little fire. In the month of Aashad, the mother sits close to her hearth and cooks her grains. In the fire raw twigs and leaves burn, kindled by the least little that readily burn. Oh, man, burn the infinite raw within you with the least little fire that is kindled in your heart, do not let the little just burn away. Burn, burn all the raw, that you may know the little bit of true value. Then listen to the song of the new epoch: The sword is wrought in burning coals, my mind is wrought in burning the infinite. Burn it down with courage, and search out the pure nugget in the ashes; read your books in the firelight of the leaping flames and warm your hearts, that you may weave your own epic. For,... the lover does not sell the letters of his love, he burns them in the winter night,

watching the flames spread from word to word, and reads them once again at last. To realize the meaning of it all in one last sweep to let his mind resolve. Oh, my brother , would you cast away the resolutions of early youth or think of them as the most unfinished deed? Oh my brother, would you curse the innocent prayers of early youth as a lie to be buried in the temptations from the west? But, did you not challenge the gods? To lift the father from bondage, to free the mother from tears? 'Times have changed' is a lie! Your time forever waits for you to change it. 'Things are different now' is a lie! Your eyes forever wait for you to perceive it differently.

Eman sees in his mind's eye the return of the native to the center in the days to come, when the rational scientific man would also return home from his adventures. The natives will set in motion the spacious wheel to provide room to pursue Eman's prime vocation - to be himself, to belong to the family in the community of emotional men. Eman will then take courage and declare

Follow me and let the dead bury their own dead. This house will be a house of prayer, not a den of robbers.'

Eman discriminates between one thief and the another, one noble man from another, one religious man from another, and in doing so demonstrates the overcoming of opposite categories and clears

the path for his own travel, his own transformation. He restlessly seeks to realize the essence, replaces the quantifications with invariant smooth qualities evident to the core of his being, at the center of his own self. And he knows this to be the same with the others. Eman more often does not realize the powers of his own inner forces and suffers holding his words within his chest. He would weep bitterly than shout, meekly take the beating than humiliate himself by raising his hand.

If your right hand or eye causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go to hell.

Eman knows the rule : The easier gets done first; the difficult ones follow much later. So, he has to only prepare for what has been postponed by the rational man. He sings:

My brother, you ask me : why do you live? why do you fight? Take courage and answer thus: 'I live, because you are alive, I struggle because you are struggling! What is my life and struggle, without your life and your struggles ?

Eman entertains a deep desire to behold the grand vision, wherein every being, the sun, moon, and all other visible and invisible friends and the laws of their nature fall into place. He waits for the great churning of the ocean to behold 'Sat' in all its grandeur and falsehood to recede to the background. And then, he will act with his total mind and gain immortality with a smile.

Why does the Eman crave thus ? Because he knows this to be the way of freeing from the corruption of all craving. He says :

With thoughts stilled, purified, cleansed free from lust and impurity, pliable, alert, steady and unshakable, I directed my mind to the comprehension-of-the-cessation-of-the-corruptions. I realized that in accordance with the fact:

This is sorrow! This is the Rising of Sorrow!! This is the Ceasing of Sorrow!!!

Likewise, in accordance with the fact I realized:

These are Corruptions! This is the rising of Corruptions!! This is Ceasing of Corruptions!!! ... This is the path leading to The cessation of corruptions.

Thus perceiving, thus cognizing, my mind was delivered from the corruption-of-the-sensualcraving, from the corruption-of-the-craving-for-existence, from the corruption of ignorance.

Being delivered I knew: Delivered am I. I realized, 'Rebirth is ended, fulfilled the holy life; done, what was to be done There is no life beyond this life!

That was the last knowledge I realized in the last watch of the night:

Ignorance was dispelled,Wisdom arose

darkness vanished, light arose, As it would be to a person, Strenuous, energetic and resolute.

Even though such pleasurable sensations arose in me, they did not at all affect my mind.

Eman asks: Great indeed is the one who feeds the hungry and the poor! But, who is your lord who ordered you to feed them ? Did he say he is not able to feed them? Or, did you grasp the logic of birth and death, the coming and disappearance of things. He answers it himself : Certainly not! Then, where is your lord ? My, brother, why do you deceive yourself, when you take up work in the name of the lord ? Do you water the mango trees after the flowers have turned black and fallen in the mud ? Give it the water due to it and harvest in good time. Know that, living water is not the same as the water for life ! Eman know that too much food is cooked in palaces. It gets scattered by the wayside and chokes the drains. Only those dishes that they love most and know how to preserve do they keep. But, before long, that too decays to be dumped far away from home. I have known this law, he says. The art of cooking is the mark of civilization. Cooked food , not eaten, goes waste. It is also a waste to feed it to the dogs, cats and birds; for, they look after themselves well. It is also a waste to feed it to the plants, for they relish ash and dung.

This food is cooked for pleasure Pleasure of the host, cook and the guests. Their taste resides in their eyes. Ignorance of the substance and function of food, Of eating and the eater as well Thus, I understand the man on fast! And, what do they cook for pleasure ? Words and machines, I say. know that many a man relish the waste scattered by wayside! Thus I understand this commerce of machines.

Eman says: This history is shown to be a market place, where things useful for survival find their place. Where do I find myself ? He asks. Am I the tortured rebel, the slave, the cunning middleman, the wandering trader, adventurous seafarer, marauder on galloping horses,...? Or, am I the silent blacksmith who had to repair the sword of the enemy of his king ? 'No, I am none of these. Eman searches for his rebirths, in the chain of free spirit running through all the tyrannies, rebellions and rule of law only to find them strapped in metal chains! Incomprehensible.

Eman is in constant prayer and knows who should truly occupy the temple. But he built his temple in his own chest and called the space ,the inner temple; Then he built a temple in a hole in the cave and called the space the outer temple, and knew the spaces to be the same! He ate the seeds for his body which he called the inner temple, and sowed the seeds in the moist earth which he called the outer temple; and knew both to be the same. Eman mutters :

The rational man has forsaken his home to conquer the dark spaces; I am the woman who keeps the lamp burning.

Eman saw straight through the leaping flames in the pyre of the venerable one burning on the riverbed, meditated on the light and colors now visible to him, the smell of the wood and all the qualities of things dissolving into the fire, the qualities of surroundings glowing bright, until he heard the crackle of the red coals cooling down,...now turning to ashes. He had seen all the four signs and the thought occurred to him : Not only in the venerable one are to be found faith, energy, recollection, concentration and wisdom. How, now, if I strive to realize that doctrine whereof the venerable one says that he himself has realized by his wisdom and abides in the attainment thereof... Eman sings :

I know the ocean between killing and knowing the law : Things die!, And Seeing things die, And Seeing things dead.

I know the wall between constructing and knowing the law : Things grow! And Seeing things grow, And Seeing things made; And, now I can see the wheel between creating and knowing the law: Things are born! And Seeing things being born, And Seeing things live. Thus do I know the three gunas, Thus do I know the three gods worshiped by the sages. How does he know these to be the same ? From his own condition, his own anxiety, rage, fear, success and joy, stillness and equanimity experienced in action - destroying , constructing and creating. Thus does he comprehend the source of appearance and disappearance of things and does not spend the morning debating the differentiations of truth discovered in the morning calm with that discovered in the tranquility of twilight, truth discovered in childhood with that discovered in old age, truth discovered in hungry stomach with that discovered by fasting and abstinence, truth discovered for happiness with that discovered by renunciation, truth discovered with the help of spirits with that discovered through meditation, and truth discovered in the east with that discovered in the west. This man is driven by a constant affirmation of his vision of the limitless expanse of his own capacity, the intensity of his own anger, love and creative impulse. The rational man would shout out his taunt : Here is the superman. He has performed as one possessed by the spirit and often endured far beyond his comprehension. He would recall crossing the swollen river in spate of downpour with a child in the grip of fear of certain death. He would wander in dense jungles for days together without food or shelter, killing the enemy lusting for his mother, daughter and his sister. He would recall drinking the poison with a smile, giving up his land, wife and children to keep his promise, would cut a pound of flesh from his thigh to do justice, jumping into the pyre of his dearest one, discovering a rule or law in a flash of forgetting himself. Yes, yes,...the list is endless. During the darkest night in the densest desert, Emen discovered the birth of their child praying to the wind, trees, earth, fire, rain and thunder. Eman shouts: ? Listen to me:

'Man' is inferior to the animals in their own qualities, superior only in his mind, his thought , his power of reflection and creation. But his thought does not make him, stronger than the lion or the tiger, nor swifter than the deer, more splendid to sight than the bird of paradise. Neither is the human beauty of the most beautiful man and woman superior to the beauty of the animals in its own kind and perfect form. He continues : Thus do I imagine myself to be the lion and defeats the stronger enemy, dreams of being a fish and survives the sea, and lets myself be a snake surviving without food in the jungle,...Oh, the list of my allies is truly endless. 'Tell me', he beckons,' will the conquerors recognize men with the help of their machines now, when they could not do it with their eyes ? And I do not want for an answer an essay parading the creative ingenuity that is resident in each marvel of a machine he has fashioned. For, I know the forests are full of ingenious creations whose significance did not reach me through my use of them. And these conquistadors? They saw the significance of the trees by cutting them into logs! So, now, will the venerable one speak of the significance of the new creations apart from their use value? Or, have they added a line or two to this current rising up within me for eternity, rendered by my friend thus':

Acintyam_Avyaktam_ananta_roopam sivam Prasantam_amrutam brahma_yonim tathadi_madhyanta_viheenam_ekam vibhum cid-anandam_aroopam_adbhutam

Eman is in search of the higher law which will take under its wings all the dominant laws that he finds himself listening today. He knows that the dominant laws are those of the market place as always; about food, money, wine, men and women and mortality. He cries out :

Give me the law, that eclipses the laws of this market place! He explains: Only the fools seek for the truth of existence of god outside of the self. His existence is simply proven by the desire of the self to seek him, not by the theory of causations. I search for the simple law which would render this simple truth accessible to one and all, and free them from the dualities of one and the other, the inner and the outer, ideas and objects, ...and ...hmm .... I leave the pundits to their deliberations on the verities of the words and speak to you at once :

Know that the gods are used to baths before dawn ever since the first being strenuously sought them, and will take a holy dip in the ocean, with the last being striving to find him. Prostrate before the one who strives with unceasing energy hear not the words forbidding him.

For, I am told:

When a brave knight takes the field all the cowards take to their heels The law of existence is the same for the panchabhutas and one hundred atoms for the navarasas, and charms and flavors for the living and non-living, for woman and man Kneel before no words, high or low! Know thus the true meaning of the scriptures.

Eman collects his thoughts : I know that the god whom the saheb's madam knows to be kind to her

husband and family can not be the god whom the woman of the drunken sun-baked body knows to be cruel to her and her children. The god whom the madam knows to be generous to the estate of her husband can not be the god whom her maid knows to spread diseases and famine in the village of her husband. The madam believes that the god listens to her, her maid feels that the god is not pleased. But, I have seen both these women summoning the gods, speaking the language of the heart with tearful eyes - tears of gratitude and tears of deprivation. So, their gods must be at war with each other. I say : The god which is pleased must be the winning god and the other the losing one. Or, if gods were to be the same, as they tell me, nay, they tell me they have been told, nay..., then this god is not involved in the war that is being waged. Aha ... Then, I should seek the intervention of this higher god to muster superior strength for the losing side. After much wandering Eman stopped. I'll wait here until the weaver and potter talks. They have not uttered a word since morning and now it is twilight and they seem calm. I want to hear them speak. My patience is endless today. For, I feel I am waiting for the woman, ... to sing her song of freedom. Eman listening to the master sing, had no trace of doubt of what he heard :There is an infinity resident in a single sound! For every time he sharpened his ears, the deeper the sound breathed into him, the richer the resonance and farther their source seemed. In his minds' eye, he could see the master telling the disciple : you shall one day learn to be the tampura, in which the essence alone is forever resident. Eman, now has a glimpse of the path existent-to-the-possible-to-theessence open to all beings. The following thought occurred to him : if the king is the master of the land, then I am in search of the king whose heart opens to my master's music. For, he will then listen to his subjects for what is possible in them, and may be even their essence. He then met Kusava, the potter, who whispered in his ear : I am in search of the king who feels with his fingers the fabric summoned for his robes, for he then surely will measure in his subjects what is possible in them, and may be what is their essence. Eman spoke : You ask me about my rise in the market place? I say it is just the natural ascent from the plane of the self-evident, normal, commonsense, visible identification of things, ideas, actions, gods to their symbolic identifications. And, Eman finds them to be innumerable, challenging his sensitivity, transcending his description. Thus he understands Maya, the delusion of the describing self; he is wrapped in the veil of Maya, as the sages would say. It appears like the dense mist of the Ganges, which the sun alone can destroy. He feels the veil as a prison surrounding his self, with a faint light emanating from his own self illuminating his immediate surroundings. His quest is

to know this light. But, he finds it is his nature to mistake the visible for the absolute. Eman says:

This man has turned a believer in descriptions and thus commits the First Natural Error.

I say, the world of pleasures and pain awaiting the man who commits The First Natural Error is indeed infinite. This world exercises great power on living men and women. But those who resolve to be free of the gifts of the first error realize the challenge of meeting the potential man, who is the ferryman to carry you to the countless estates of his master.

But rare indeed are men who do not commit the Second Natural Error of experiencing these delights as dualities of objects, the gifts received from The First Natural Error, as the sages say. Listen and understand, this is the perennial surrender of the potential man to the conditions of his visible world, limiting to the interminable dualities of the first error, to his own narratives. Rare indeed is the man who prays to the creator, preserver and destroyer in the same space. Thus do I grasp the words of the sages:

Great indeed is the fortune of the disciple with whom the guru was praying at the crack of the dawn.

Let me explain: Attempting to project the beings living in his divine inspiration in to the space of the forms constitute the second natural error. Thus I am told divine Maya is the multiplicity of the forms of the one supreme infinite. Maya, the eman's soul stirring experience in the midst of things, ideas and gods is wrongly, but naturally, publicly presented as the self-expression of the infinite, for the public to debate. Thus does he indulge in the wrong identifications of the objects themselves and imposes the normal discrimination of the experiences in terms of the objects outside and their dualities.

The freedom that he experiences takes the Eman into the realm of the gods. Intoxicated by the infinite freedom immanent in the second natural error he challenges the very order of the worlds, this one and all other.

The Heaven and Earth themselves have grown equal to one half of me. Have I not drunk the soma rasa? I in my grandeur have surpassed the heavens and all this spacious earth Aha, this spacious earth will I deposit here or there! ... One of my flanks is in the sky, but the other trails below! Have I not drunk the Soma rasa? Listen to the voice of the potential man :"Tell me, how does one create wealth for the country, so that we may all be blessed with a small share of it ? How do we go about doing it? But the potential man is denied a chance to lend his voice, he is prematurely silenced by the most ignominious of all supplications - mercy from the powerful. He hides his head in shame. 'Now, it will take a long time', he admits. But know that you men have been turned into slaves by the pity and mercy of the powerful. The might of the rational man have turned martyrs into beggars duly singing national anthems. Martyrdom was in store for you, but if only the King acted as the elder of the family: See, this is all the land we have. You can not partition it. Though each of you have this much, the land has become fallow, you will work hard and reap as you sow.... See, my great grand father tilled his land honorably. Then came the new bandits and we became tenants. Now,... they have run away,...we did not kill them. We do our ancestors proud if you live honorably tilling this land. Alas, that is not to be! The rational man wants to surrender in self pity. He has made equality into a law ! Eman continued after a long silence.'I say this, now that each of your actions transcends each, any, all notions you have of your actions. Consider each as the next opening to the limitless world of the potential man. Watch yourself speak the unspoken, act the unknown way, comprehend the incomprehensible'.

'There is a world yet to be born. You have hardly learned the language, the poetry is yet to arrive, and the world eternally waits for a true description of itself to be given. All that you see and hear the world as speaking is but the crawling of the struggling self of the world. The wisdom of the aged world is yet to come. The way-nature of the world is not revealed yet and you have not discovered your path-nature yet. 'And know this: just as it is neither the old nor the young who carry the wisdom on any day, it is neither the past nor the future which will witness the way-nature of the world; It is the present when it keeps awake long enough.'

Talk not of the wheel of law crushing you underneath. Discover the wheel of law of your vehicle and your sister's. And, know these to be the same, and know them to be in motion. Hold the spoke of your height. A gentle push, you turn it now and ride into the places afar, for you and your sister and know them to be the same. You asked me,"Why do you live and why do you fight?".I say:

Take courage and answer thus: I live because you are all alive, I fight because you are all ready to fight Thus begin by losing the you and me Thus begin preparing the right path.

Eman finds his life too short to fulfill his words, and harbors in his heart the fires lit up early in life...when he saw his mother beaten by his father, his father beaten by their neighbor, he was beaten by his master, his master beaten by his landlord, his family driven out of his village, his village molested by men from the other side of the river, his village uprooted and made to vanish by the law of the land, his country looted by unknown hordes riding horses and cannons. Eman does not put out these fires with the wisdom of the market place, with cold waters of the public debate. He zealously guards them and searches to fulfill the first word, then the second, and the next in that order. For, he knows he had asked big questions, had spoken strong words, one too many for the life that has transformed into his destiny. He prepares for the battle, his own battle and abides by the abundance that comes his way. Eman does not put out these fires with the cold water of adult reason, for adult survival using adult public morality. 'How can I', he asks,'I, who is born to my mother, who was thrown out of her own kitchen on a cold winter night by my own father, assume the same duties as my friend who is the darling of his only parents? How can I choose poverty in body to the poverty in mind?'

Poverty in both mind and body is the ignorance of the worst kind. Poverty in mind leads to the cessation of the sharing of wealth and rise of ownership; Poverty in body leads to the cessation of sharing of wealth of the second kind, ownership of the worst kind, Ownership of the wealth in the realm of the potential man. Eman realizes the potential, the infinite when he stays alive without falling a prey to the twin poverties. For it is said:

the one who gives becomes infinitely rich. the one who is free from wrong identifications verily is the master of the whole estate!

I say, it is rare indeed that the woman who gives birth also names the child. Those who ponder over names are rarely the creators. I know these men who revel in comparing the words uttered by their kinsmen, they are noisy like the sparrows in the lonely mansion. I have no time to listen to them.

Today I must go to listen to the master of no-words! I'll bathe at the jnanghat the whole morning hour; enter the courtyard on tiptoe, waking up no one, with my eyes closed, I'll join my master in his prayers to recollect the first promise I made!

Love of knowledge is akin to wisdom. Strenuous attention to conduct is akin to compassion. Sensitiveness to shame is akin to courage. ... My friend, why do you shout thus: "The emotional man is afraid to speak!" I am searching for the higher law. But like the my friend digging for treasure in the city finds tangled channels of degenerate matter, I witness the degeneration of knowledge into blind faith, faith and trust into fear and mistrust, vigorous inspired practice into half-hearted rituals. I witness the creative imagination of my forefathers being reckoned as primitive ignorance. I witness the degeneration sciences into beliefs. I find that the symbolic practices of the potential man are reckoned as conventions of the moral man, etc., etc,...I am in search of this higher law of being for the new epoch, abiding which I shall know the new form of the law of life, growth and decay. I've glimpsed the nature of the laws I seek, I attribute neither strength nor superiority to the dead and forgotten. Behold! I am the night watchman praying for the child that is being born.

The man who clamors for the wealth of his father Begins by claiming his right to live, Begins by forsaking his right to build; The men who lay claim to the books of ancestors

Begin by staking their claim to know, Begin by forsaking their right to discover. The man who cradles every new born child as his own verily discovers the newer forms of truth! What is living can not be counted among the dead, What is growing up can not be counted among the old. I am the Eman laying my claim thus: Let me know the true nature of the new gods from the west, Give me the new law of growth and decay, Let me behold its forms!

Eman continues: The men and woman roaming in public spreading the fragrance of lust, attracting the attention of the wealthy, do not lose their purpose because she can not imagine the nature and features of the one who is going to find her first. The longer the wait, the more intense her search becomes, the more inviting her glances. The woman who settles for the easy prey rarely succeeds in attracting the minister and the sheriff. Know this: The man who casts the net deep, alone catches the big fish. He uses small fry as bait and waits for the big splash, the turbulent churning. Listen to my song:

All affairs of the heart grow and decay the same way! Will you not wait for the big splash ? And know the meaning of clinging on the way? Will you not cast the net deep, And drink the Soma Rasa? Therefore I say, models do not constitute knowledge, they enable you to imitate the creator. Constructions must not be understood as explanations, they enable you to build castles. They simply let you know what is significant and what is natural. For it is said:

Man models himself after the earth, The Earth models after heaven,

The heaven models itself after Tao, Tao models itself after nature.

Eman almost defines his duty when he discovers that complexity is not a new description of reality; that, in every age and time, he had to transcend the complexity equal in measure to all the grains in the Ganges to realize the potential man. Thus he rejects the 'acceptance' or 'renewal' of traditions as a survival-spirit balancing the survival-pill of modernism. For, survival is not his aim! For, in the struggle for survival, the aggressive vitality of the rational man is the sure winner! Eman calls the house he was born my-house and the house constructed in his name the house-Igot-made. The rational man calls the house he got made my-house and the house he was born in as the house-we-used-to-live. Eman is agitated. He shouts :'I call them ignorant thieves! The king and ministers are spreading lies about tradition, about heritage, about meaning of our martyrs. They are going about their duty, doing their job as they say. But listen, these men need only a good job. They are anxious about their children and family. Give them a better job with guaranteed pension. Their humor and handwriting will bring them mementos! For, it is said, You can put a superior human an important position with large discretionary powers, but you can not give him a nice little job; you can give an inferior man a nice little job, but you can not put him in an important position with great discretionary powers. 'So, if my fellowmen were to choose to become traders, middlemen and entrepreneurs then, will they all prosper, will they be truthful to each other? I see a hitherto unknown battle ahead for my tribe. But, know that this battle can not be fought by being strong. Why ? Because, each one of my fellowmen on gaining strength joined the side of the strong. Thus I understand the mahatma.'

And I ask you, How many of you know that you can not fight the battle for bread by eating? And, how many of you fighters know that this battle can not be fought by surrendering to the natural recoil of astonishment, grief, horror, dismay, dejection, bewilderment of mind and the war of reason against self, the collapse towards the principle of ignorance and inertia? How many of you know that this battle will be fought against the righteous and the pious,

generous men and the learned men, men who have interpreted the books and men who have followed the ideals from the four kingdoms of the four castles? How many of you know that this battle can not be fought without grasping the higher law which grants the destruction of good to go beyond good and evil? For, have you not learned that when evil descends to lower depths, drags the good along with it.

The evil has fallen far below, to enable you to save the good as it is. Thus do I understand the middle path! Thus do I not yield to the law of opposites! And choose neither the good nor the evil of the day!

Do you know that in this battle men shall identify one another not by their faces, but by their allies, their vehicles; men riding tigers shall fight men riding tigers, men riding asses shall fight men riding asses! How many of you know that this battle would have been fought in their land if you had been the traders and looted their wealth? I consider it my luck that this battle has become my lot! And my friends in the far away lands will suffer very long before they get a chance. How many of you have learned of good and evil and the dualities from your teachers, your parents, your elders and teach your children that which you practice? And how many of you take a side in every fight that you witness? Thus I understand tradition, where men taught their children what they practiced and took a side in every fight in their midst , the chivalry which will not break the bruised reed, but helps and protects the weak and the oppressed, and the wounded and the fallen. How many of you know that the time has come when everyone who is weak have to be weak, otherwise they will be hard and cruel ! For, everyone who succeeded to grow strong would have joined the side of the strong. Listen to the sages: Know god, know thyself, help men protect the right, do without fear and faltering thy work of battle in this world. Thou art the eternal and imperishable spirit, the soul is here in its upward path to immortality. Life and death are nothing, sorrow and wounds and suffering are nothing, for

these things have to be conquered and overcome. Look not at thy own pleasure, pain and profit, but above and around, above at the shining summits to which thou climb est, around at this world of battle and trial in which good and evil, progress and retrospection are locked in stern conflict. Men call to you, their strong man, their hero, for help. Help them fight. Destroy when by destruction the world must advance, but hate not that which you destroy, nor grieve for all that is destroyed. Know everywhere the one self, know all to be immortal souls and body to be but dust. Do thy work with a calm, strong and equal spirit. Fight and fall nobly or conquer mightily. For, this is the work that god and thy nature have given to thee to accomplish. I hear the chant of the drunken sun-burnt body : 'I want my children to escape my fate on this wheel'. I had to remind him every time : 'You have given up the fight old man; I was riding astride your neck and remembers what you did not speak to me. Old man, let me tell you this: Breathe out your wisdom when you are strong, breathe in when you are weak and hold it when in doubt. Also know this: you do not cheat me of my battle, only the children who carry on the battles of childhood find the road to freedom. And there are no battles for the aged, except keeping alive. Freedom and immortality eludes them.'

Did you not find the law of learning to be same? For the earliest ancestors, And supermen of space odysseys? Did you not find the quest to be same, in the eyes of the child and the sage? I see the joy of the three gunas in the same eyes I have witnessed ... the Dawn of Fear in time ! And understood all morality from eternity !

The long awaited meeting takes place. Eman meets the Rman , his rational counterpart. Eman : But know this: rationality is not the new discovery of the science of the west, nor a new ethics for men and animals of the east, not a new medicine to vitalize discovery, not a new solution for anything. It is the only way known to the self to-be-in-the-world, it is the only way for all to be here. It has no beginning and no end. It is like this sky, you are nothing without it. I will teach you

true rationality; I'll each you archery; I'll teach you seeking. Rman: Tell me who is a free man? Eman: First know this: The answer is not to be found in the books. For, do you find a single learned man who is free? Rman: Surely you must refer to freedom in some measure , to some degree of freedom, freedom from sorrow, pain or hunger, this or that. Or say freedom to speak or act. Eman: No. That is the relativity of the powers of the obstacles to freedom and the powers of overcoming them. Tell me which is a free country? A country no other country dares to attack or a country of free men? Rman: I do not understand... Eman: Know that the time has come when some men will venerate the book written by a knownname and the emotional man will wash his hands before opening the book written by a no-name. Know also that the words of the emotional man of today forms the feed of the rational man of tomorrow and the day after. And the silence of the emotional man lasts for an eternity of analysis.

Show me the artist who saw the whole flower? Show me the artist who painted the whole of what he saw? None! Indeed None! Thus I know Suchness! Thus I know Yoga!

For, just as I discovered the power of artist-nature, and was blessed with the siddhi of artist-nature, oh! yes, the artist-nature itself, to explain to you the creations of the artist, its beauty, its style, its representation, its elegance, the oneness and connections of its elements, its quality of transporting you to the realm of that beauty, elegance and unity, so, also, I discovered the power of god-nature, the siddhi of the seeker, oh! yes, the god-nature itself, to explain to you the creations of the soul-artist, to explain the beauty of the creations, choice and style of descriptions, its elegance, beauty and oneness, its quality of transporting you into the realm of that beauty. And, just as I, when looking at the works of artists of different tribes, continents and ages find the

artist-nature to be the same; so also, I find the works of the Emen, my brothers and sisters in different tribes, continents and ages to be the same. And just as I know that the artist, having not pictured the whole flower, endeavors to seek the flower-nature to varying degrees of perfection; so also, I, having not found the whole of my selfnature, unable to describe to you the self-nature that I realized, strives to seek and find this godnature to varying degrees of perfection And, ... just as the being possessing the man-nature, being endowed with the mind-nature of calm perception and reflection, seeing the artist's flower to a high measure struggles in vain to picture what he sees, so also, the being possessing mind-nature, on experiencing the supreme calmness anywhere at anytime, beholding its self-nature to a high measure, struggles in vain to render it into thought, speech or action. And just as the wise men of every tribe and continent does not attribute the artist-nature to neither the flower nor the picture, so also, the wise one of every tribe and continent does not attribute the self-nature to neither the world nor experience. And just as the soul which is born not identified with any, some or all aspects of its surroundings, not identified with any, some or all aspects of its self-nature, constantly tries to exceedd its own limits, and having experienced this self-exeeding, grasps the dualities present in the objects, experience and its description as the essential nature of this selfexceedingg calling it the pathnature or way-nature and knows them to be such; but does not mistake them for truth or selfnature. And having thus known the identity of this self-exceeding, this seeking by the potential man, of any, some or all aspects of self-nature, and having known the dualities to be the path-nature, and having found all descriptions to be descriptions of the path-nature of any, some or all of his own kind, prepares the foundation for the path of his fraternity, his family, his tribe, his village, his country, his world of being. Eman knows that very little is learned even by the most energetic. He says:They speak words, not their own. For, when you learn, you speak your own words. Ego and misery comes when you stop learning and accept living as the main task. This is a fatal error. The dualities of all knowing is implicit, not a quality of the external, but the better part of your own self - like the right eye for the left, oh, yes like the right half for the left. It is but natural that when the right eye says I see for the left eye to say I do not, and for the right hand to possess it, while the left hand is empty. Having

known these verities , man, dualities and god to be such, I have realized the path-nature.

I am the Eman who knows that in this self-exceeding I have committed the two natural errors.

THE FIRST ERROR of Eman is the mistaking of the path-nature for the self-nature. Let me repeat : The mistaking of the ego for the universal soul is at the heart of the knowledge of all men. THE SECOND ERROR of Eman is the identifying the path-nature of the potential man with the self-nature of his creations. I repeat: The identification of truths onto forms and dualities lies at the heart of all limitations of the potential man.

Thus do I know man, Thus do I know dualities, Thus do I know god!

Thus do I know free man. One who has overcome the path-nature of any, some or all aspects of his self-nature. And it is said, overcoming one is as good as overcoming all. Thus do I know morality as the laws of the overcoming of path-natures in the midst of other pathnatures, the instructions of the public teacher to the traveling path-natures. Thus do I know the free country, as the largest territory in which this morality is practiced, in which the law of growth, life and decay follows the higher law enshrined in this morality, where wars are fought, kings dethroned, nations are born, broken up or destroyed by emotional men to enshrine this morality.

I say: what is created as means to survive does not qualify as means to search truth. And what is created as means to search truth is verily distorted, nay destroyed, when rendered as means to continue life. And in doing so, know also that surrounding you every object, idea, event and experience is meaningful, necessary, evolving,..., and that every flower is beautiful, delicate, wonderful,..., every person is complete, whole, seeking, evolving,...But you are seeking your objects, ideas, experiences,...making every other object, idea, experience not so relevant, not so

meaningful, every other flower not so beautiful,...You chant : not this, not this. And know also that the one who earns the capacity to create and receive every object, idea, event and experience as his own, verily finds them beyond all dualities, finds them all meaningful, beautiful, ... and proceeds to create by his very nature, and indeed creates a whole world like the Brahma.

On Infinity-Yoga for All : A Ballad of The two Errors Dr. Surendran K.K.( Nagpur, 1989)