Seeking … Being

On the fated path I walk; drudging along forlornly. Melancholy wraps

around me like a dense fog, separating me from the jostling crowd.
Morbid gloom inundates my spirit. A sign of death? ... Suddenly, I hear
that sound—a distant thud, reaching me like a feeble drumbeat, faintly
audible, yet strangely familiar, and immensely attractive. Like a dimly
lit star in a clear sky, barely visible, twinkling. Now there … now gone.

I stop (the crowd passes me by like a current of water around a

pebble). Intently I listen, every nerve of my body grasping every wave
that comes floating toward me. A magical sound! It’s calling me. Why?
Where? Where is it coming from?

I search for it among the gray shadows, as far as my gaze can pierce
the thickening blanket of darkness. I search, behind the bushes; amid
tall trees; underneath the moss. (Is it perhaps a tiny cricket or locust,
ticking its incessant clock?)

Where is it coming from? My question still unanswered, I have left my

path in this search. Stepping on the rocks, hopping over the stumps of
trees and dead shrubs, I move about, trying to locate the source of the
sound; find the direction whence it is coming.

The direction... Which direction? What direction? What IS a direction?

……………

Over slippery pebbles I stumble. For a moment the search

discontinues as I try and steady myself. At this moment, a sudden
realization strikes me. Yes. It's there. It's here. I think I’ve found it. I
have discovered the source of this sound. It’s, after all, coming from
within me! So strange, so unimaginable a discovery. With a child's joy
I listen anew to that hypnotic rhythm. Like a gigantic tide it surges and
overwhelms me. It is there. It has always been there, right here,
inside me, all over me. It’s just the throbbing of my heart, isn’t it? So
simple, so near, yet so distant just moments ago, so strangely
familiar, so strangely attractive.
For now, the search seems to have ended. The search for the source,
for the direction in which to find it. Now there is no direction to follow,
there is no way, no need for a way. The roads are no more for me. For
me now are these meadows, the jungles with their thickets and
clearings, moist earthy mosses and green-blue canopies, the deserts
with their mirages and oases. For me are the oceans and waves, clear-
blue and cloudy skies. For me is this sound. It is with me. It has
always been with me. It feels like having been reunited with a lost
friend.

But … why then did I not hear it before? Why was it coming from a
distance? The new questions dampen the joy of my discovery. The
sense of euphoria of discovering the undiscovered ebbs away. For a
moment, I remain silent, contemplating. The sound is audible again.
With a gentle beat, it draws my attention. I listen to it intently. Yes,
indeed, it is coming from within me. Yet, it is all around me. Behind
the bushes, amid the grasses, underneath the mosses, among the tall
trees, far away in the darkness. It is the throbbing of my heart, and
yet it is everywhere, around me, above and below, within and…. It
thumps in my head, in my heart, in my arms and legs, deep in the
guts….

… … … … ...

She comes with her imposing eyes fixed on me. A deep yet vague
smile plays on her face—like mist over a lake. Coming near she holds
my hands in hers. On her thin wrist, beneath the soft skin, I see that
twitching; quickly disappearing, to reappear again, in a uniform pace,
unchaotic, unhurried. The quiet quickness, like the flow of Eternity.
Then I hear the sound too. It has the same mystical allure.

Toward the morning sun I walk. A beggar stands still like a statue in
the rising heat, his palm extended, the only suggestion of his
occupation. I pause and turn to face him. The two dead eyes gaze the
sky, over my shoulder, straight at the sun. In the corners of his
temples, I see the same twitching. The waves of the same throbs that
echo in and around me. Face to face we stand. A sound identifies a
sound. A gaze is returned by a dead gaze, seeing-unseeing, yet
recognizing. The two pairs of eyes searching for something?... Seeking
what? Alms? Money? Affection? Love? Salvation? Solidarity?
Solitude? ...

The white, fierce sun glares over my head as I trek across the fields
stretched out along the foothills of barren ridges. The brown earth
looks tired. And thirsty. Its thirst conveyed by the smell of baked mud
on the hot breeze. Thirsty for the first showers. A farmer and his ox
drag a plough through the dry lumps. The farmer is engrossed in his
work. His hands, his breath, his legs, his voice as he commands the
ox, all working in a harmony. On his throat, under the suntanned skin
covered with sweat and dust, I see the flow; wave chasing wave. The
same incessant flow of life, the same tune, the same sound.…

In the meadows I wander, yellowing grass brushing past my bare legs.

Far in the distance, a lonesome tree with no leaves, just a thick, dark-
brown trunk and rickety branches, stands still. All around me, beyond
the tree, is a circle of the spread of the Earth. Sheets after sheets of
gently undulating grasses stretching all the way to the horizon. I and
the tree, the two tiny dots on this circular, slightly crumpled gray-
brown canvas. The setting sun puts strokes of golden yellow on it.
High above, a clutch of clouds reflect an orange tinge. As the sun
descends further, the Earth and the sky stir their eternal colours and
become one. A breeze of moist, cool air comes from somewhere and
caresses me with a gentle touch. It enters my nostrils, goes deep
down into my lungs, to seek the sound that throbs within me. It enters
with a gush, the sound of my breath, composed of millions of sounds
of life echoing together a timeless harmony. Inside my body they
dance, sound meeting sound, exchanging their melodies. For a
moment or two, they strike together a perfect consonance, playing the
tune of life. The next moment, with a deep sigh, the air gushes out,
taking the melody, a message from my self….

……………

… I wake up, as if from a deep slumber. The sound is nowhere to be heard. Only a
deep, unfathomable tranquility exists in such a way that nothing else existed ever
before. There is no past, no future, and no present. For every present has its future
and every future evolves from a past. Here there is only this deep tranquility. Time is
frozen in this serene darkness. Is this the heart of the universe?. Is this Truth? ...

I have lost myself in this silence. I have filled every part of this
tranquil infinity, yet I am nowhere. I live, without existing.

Through this tranquility something is radiating away. I feel it. It is

moving out with vigour, with life-energy. Pulsating like a throbbing
heart, it is reaching to the farthest edges of the universe, perhaps
beyond…. Yet the tranquility is unshaken, its serene darkness
unperturbed. A mysterious pulse. What is it? Where is it going? …

… … … … ...

On the fated path she walks; drudging along forlornly. Melancholy

wraps around her like a dense fog, separating her from the jostling
crowd. Morbid gloom inundates her spirit. A sign of death?... Suddenly,
she hears that sound—a distant thud, reaching her like a feeble
drumbeat, faintly audible, yet strangely familiar, and immensely
attractive. Like a dimly lit star in a clear sky, barely visible, twinkling.
Now there, … now gone.

And she stops to listen….

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~