Feeling the real
Humanness on twenty-fifth anniversary of Vajramuktiyoga
Vajramukti for international film
festival
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Humaneness merges into
absolute and that's Love .Read this by Rabindranath Tagore Temple of Gold
Temple
of Gold
By Rabindranath Tagore
From
“Narratives”
“SIRE,”
announced the servant to the King, “the saint Narottam never deigns to step
into your royal temple. He is singing God’s praise under the trees by the open
road. The temple is empty of all worshippers. They flock round him like bees
round the fragrant white lotus, leaving the golden jar of honey unheeded.”
The King, vexed at heart, went to the spot where Narottam sat on the grass. He
asked him, “Father, why leave my temple of the golden dome, and sit on the dust
outside to preach God’s love?”
“Because God is not there in your temple,” said Narottam.
The King frowned and said, “Do you know twenty millions of gold have been spent
on that marvel of art, and the temple was duly consecrated to God with costly rites?”
“Yes, I know,” answered Narottam. “It was the dread year when thousands of your
people lost their homes in fire and stood at your door for help in vain. And
God said, ‘The poor creature who can give no shelter to his brothers would
aspire to build my house!’ Thus he took his place with the shelterless under
the trees by the road. And that golden bubble is empty of all but hot vapor of
pride.”
The King cried in anger, “Leave my land!”
Calmly said the saint, “Yes, banish me where you have banished my God.”
Generally Love is divided in
two need love and gift love . Philosophically need love is not love at all
because it's based on the need and when the need finishes or what one needs
changes its form in space and time the Love subtly doesn't remain it becomes an
attachment. So Gift love is the real Love but it is to be given by a higher
being who has traversed higher planes gone beyond the state of mind and matter
but when we pray for an understanding and by his grace it dawns unto us then
our I ness changes and it takes us slowly towards Gift Love. I believe that the love has to be given by
such being who is beyond mind and matter so it's a gift love .I told my father
about this love when he said about his mother's love which I have given in my
book Who Am I? Who am I? Paper back
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Who am I? Kindle and
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the
philosophical talks with my earthly father .I liked the way Mirdad expresses
about love I will give it here so anyone can feel it although Love is beyond
words
MIRDAD: Love
is the Law of god. You live that you may learn to love. You love that you may
learn to live. No other lesson is required of Man. And what is it to love but
for the lover to absorb forever the beloved so that the twain be one? And whom,
or what, is one to love? Is one to choose a certain leaf upon the Tree of Life
and pour upon it all one’s heart? What of the branch that bears the leaf? What
of the stem that holds the branch? What of the bark that shields the stem? What
of the roots that feed the bark, the stem, the branches and the leaves? What of
the soil embosoming the roots? What of the sun, and sea, and air that fertilize
the soil? You say,’ But there be leaves and leaves upon a single tree. Some are
healthy, some are sick; some are beautiful, some, ugly; some are giant, some
are dwarfs. How can we help but pick and choose?’ I say to you, Out of the
paleness of the sick proceeds the freshness of the healthy. I further say to
you that ugliness is Beauty’s palette, paint and brush; and that the dwarf
would not have been a dwarf had he not given of his stature to the giant. You
are the Tree of Life. Beware of fractioning yourselves. Set not a fruit against
a fruit, a leaf against a leaf, a bough against a bough; nor set the stem
against the roots; nor set the tree against the mother-soil. That is precisely
what you do when you love one part more than the rest, or to the exclusion of
the rest. You are the Tree of Life. Your roots are everywhere. Your boughs and
leaves are everywhere. Your fruits are in every mouth. Whatever be the fruits
upon that tree; whatever be its boughs and leaves; whatever be its roots, they
are your fruits; they are your leaves and boughs; they are your roots; if you
would have the tree bear sweet and fragrant fruit, if you would have it ever
strong and green, see to the sap wherewith you feed the roots. Love is the sap
of Life. While hatred is the pus of Death. But Love, like blood, must circulate
unhindered in the veins. Repress the blood, and it becomes a menace and a plague.
And what is Hate but Love repressed, or Love withheld, therefore becoming such
a deadly poison both to the feeder and the fed; both to the hater and to that
he hates? A yellow leaf upon your tree of life is but a Love weaned leaf. Blame
not the yellow leaf. A withered bough is but a Love-starved bough. Blame not
the withered bough. A putrid fruit is
but a Hatred-suckled fruit. Blame not the putrid fruit. But rather blame your
blind and stingy heart that would dole out the sap of life to few and would deny
it to many, thereby denying it to itself. No love is possible except the love
of self. No self is real save the all-embracing Self. Therefore is God all
Love, because he loves Himself. So long as you are pained by Love, you have not
found your real self, nor have you found the golden key of Love. Because you
love an ephemeral self, you love is ephemeral. The love of man for woman is not
love. It is thereof a very distant token. The love of parent for the child is
but the threshold to Love’s holy temple. Till every man be every woman’s lover
, and the reverse; till every child be every parent’s child, and the reverse,
let men and women brag of flesh and bone clinging to flesh and bone, but never
speak the sacred name of Love. For that is blasphemy. You have no friends so
long you can count a single man as foe. The heart that harbors enmity how can
it be a safe abode for friendship? You do not know the joy of Love so long as
there is hatred in your hearts. Were you to feed all things the sap of Life
except a certain tiny worm, that certain tiny worm alone would embitter your
life. For in loving anything, or anyone, you love in truth but yourselves.
Likewise, in hating anything, or anyone, you hate in truth but yourselves. For
that which you hate is bound up inseparably with that which you love, like the
face and the reverse of the same coin. If you would be honest with yourselves,
then must you love what you hate and what hates you before you love what you
love and what loves you. Love is not a virtue. Love is a necessity; more so
than bread and water; more so than light and air. Let no one pride himself on
loving. But rather breathe in love and breathe it out just as unconsciously and
freely as your breathe in the air and breathe it out. For Love needs no one to
exalt it. Love will exalt the heart that it finds worth of itself. Love neither
lends nor borrows; Love neither buys nor sells; but when it gives, it gives it
s all; and when it takes, it takes its all. It's very taking is a giving. It's
very giving is a taking. Therefore is it the same to-day, to-morrow and
forevermore. Just as a mighty river emptying itself in the sea is e’er
replenished by the sea, so must you empty yourselves in Love that you may be
ever filled with Love. The pool that would withhold the sea-gift from the sea
becomes a stagnant pool. There is nor ‘more’ nor ‘less’ in Love . The moment
you attempt to grade and measure Love it slips away leaving behind it bitter
memories. Nor is there ‘now’ and ‘then’ , nor ‘here’ and ‘there’ in Love . All
seasons are Love seasons. All spots are fit abodes for Love. Love knows no
boundaries or bars. A love whose course is checked by any obstacle whatever is
not yet worthy of the name of Love. I often hear you say that Love is blind,
meaning that it can see no fault in the beloved. That kind of blindness is the
height of seeing. Would you were always so blind as to behold no fault in
anything. Nay, clear and penetrating is the eye of Love. Therefore, it sees no
fault. When Love has purged your sight, then would you see nothing at all
unworthy of your Love? Only a loveshorn, faulty eye is ever busy finding
faults. Whatever fault it finds are only its own faults. Love integrates.
Hatred disintegrates. This huge and ponderous mass of earth and rock which you call
Altar Peak would quickly fly asunder were it not held together by the hand of
Love. Even your bodies, perishable as they seem, could certainly resist
disintegration did you but love each cell of them with equal zeal. Love is
peace a throb with melodies of Life. Hatred is war agog with fiendish blasts of
Death. Which would you: Love and be at everlasting peace? Or hate and be at
everlasting war? The whole earth is alive in you. The heavens and their hosts
are alive in you. So love the Earth and all her suckling if you would love
yourselves. And love the Heavens and all their tenants if you would love
yourselves. Why do you hate Naronda , Abimar ? Naronda: All were taken aback by
so sudden a shift in the Master’s voice and course of thoughts; while Abimar
and I were dumb-struck by so pointed a question about an estrangement between
us which we carefully hid from all and had reasons to believe it was not
detached by any. All looked upon the two of us in utter wonder and waited on
the lips of Abimar. Abimar: (eying me in reproach) Did you, Naronda , tell the
Master? Naronda: When Abimar has said ‘The Master’ , my heart melted in joy
within me. For it was round that word that we had disagreed long before Mirdad
revealed himself; I holding that he was a teacher come to enlighten men; and
Abimar insisting, he was but a common man. MIRDAD: Look not askance upon
Naronda, Abimar; for he is blameless of your blame. Abimar: Who told you, then?
Can you read men’s minds too? MIRDAD: Mirdad needs nor spies nor interpreters.
Did you but love Mirdad as he loves you, you could with ease read in his mind
and see into his heart as well. Abimar: forgive a blind and a deaf man, Master.
Open my eye and ear, for I am eager to see and to hear. MIRDAD: Love is the
only wonder-worker. If you would see let love be in the pupil of the eye. If
you would hear, let love be in the drum of the ear. Abimar: But I hate no man,
not even Naronda . MIRDAD: Not-hating is not loving, Abimar . for Love is an
active force; and save it guide your every move and step, you cannot find you
way; and save it fill your every wish and thought , your wishes shall be
nettles in your dreams; your thoughts shall be as dirges for your days. Now is
my heart a harp , and I am moved to song. Where is your harp, good Zamora.
Zamora: Shall I go and fetch it , Master? MIRDAD: Go, Zamora. Naronda: Zamora instantly arose and went for
the harp. The rest looked at each other in utter bewilderment and held their
peace. When Zamora returned with the harp and Master gently took it from his
hand, and bending over it in tenderness, carefully adjusted every string and
then began to play and sing. MIRDAD: God is your captain, sail, my Ark! Though
Hell unleash her furies red Upon the living and the dead, And turn the earth to
molten lead, And sweep the skies of every mark, God is your captain, sail, my
Ark! Love is your compass, ply, my ark! Go north and south, go east and west
And share with all your treasure chest. The storm shall bear you on its crest A
light for sailors in the dark. Love is your compass, ply, my Ark! Faith is your
anchor, ride, my Ark! Should thunder roar, and lightning dart, And mountains
shake and fall apart, And man become so faint of heart As to forget the holy
spark, Faith is your anchor, ride, my ark! Naronda: The Master ceased and bent
over the harp as bends a mother, love-entranced, over an infant at her breast.
And though its strings no longer quivered, the harp continued to ring on ,’God
is your captain, sail, my Ark!’ and though the Master’s lips were shut, his
voice reverberated for a space thoughout the aerie and floated out in waves
unto the rugged peaks about; unto the hills and vales below; unto the restless
sea in the distance; unto the vaulted blue overhead. There were star showers
and rainbows in that voice. There were quakes and gales along with soughing
winds and song-intoxicated nightingales. There were heaving seas empalled with
soft, dew-laden mist. And it seemed as if the whole of creation were listening
thereto in thankful gladness. And it further seemed as if the Milky mountains
range, with Altar Peak in the centre, had suddenly become detached from the
Earth and were afloat in space, majestic, powerful and certain of its course.
For three days thereafter, the Master spoke no word to any man.
We can write
thousand pages book on Love yet love is a feeling to experience every part of
the cosmos. God is ocean of Love and individual soul is the drop of that ocean
if you read Kabir's book its name itself is Anuraagsagar meaning ocean of love
God is the ocean of Love and we are drops of that ocean. Love flows from the
simplicity of the heart and height of cultivation is simplicity Vajramukti my
way of life is from that simplicity of heart from action to liberation please
read and help all to grow in love to know thyself .
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