Waves upon the seashore

कर्मण्येवाधिकारस्ते मा फलेषु कदाचनः

with work alone is your concern
never with its fruits

– Bhagavad Gita 2.47.

He lived in deep sorrow. In sorrow breathing arose, in sorrow breathing died. It was as if one had seen a flower bloom, come to life, and die. In that sorrow, which arose from the depths of consciousness in response to outer reality, there was also pure being. A being that was alive, even as sorrow took birth, quivered, palpitated, died, and a new wave of sorrow emerged. As if waves upon waves crashed on the shore, a shore that merely watched with utmost serenity. A serenity that was tranquil, unaffected, yet intense to the point of explosion.

There wasn’t concern, investment, attachment, to what happened. But there was a looking afar, gazing at the stars, as if, knowing that glory lies only the in the truth, and not in the states of sorrow and joy which are as currents over an ocean.

He wondered if the verse from the Gita being chanted in his mind truly meant this, and this only. The tranquility of the man not attached to the world of happenings was perhaps what the ancients sang of in the most beautiful, most profound, most affective poem of all. In something written 2000 years ago, he felt he had found his spiritual home, and a glimpse at the answers to why he was here in this world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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~ by tdcatss on June 20, 2017.

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