Death continued...

The last time when someone close to me died, I was unable to hold myself from being carried away with an outrageous river of emotions. Tears came like an old tube light flickering every minute but unable to provide continuity. I strived hard to console me with arguments of the spirit being indestructible and that dissolution of mere physical body doesn't take him away from me, but all went in vain. I persuaded myself that he was there with me all the time, watching me, speaking to me, ready to scold me but I couldn't hear him. And then it proved to be me making fool of myself, nothing else. For those of you who don't know, there is a process called kriya-yoga that frees yourself from all emotional imbalances but it's effect dies out after 24 hrs. Time is the most powerful healer of any wound, be it physical or spiritual ( I won't say mental). Gradually and steadily the wounds have stopped interfering with my sleep. But still there is something hollow in my heart that comes into play whenever I remember him.

Au contraire, this time when baba died, I didn't get so much of a shock. May be because last time I was totally unprepared and had to fulfill some dreams of my kin( even today I feel had he been there for 6 months more...) and this time I have fulfilled baba's dreams, talked to him about what he means for me and recited a verse on him; may be because baba's last words I remember were "God Bless You" spoken in deep content about his role as a grandpa. Ya, I agree that I had a faint idea that he is leaving me soon and I was a bit prepared for this but still... Alright, I accept there are enough reasons this time to be less restless but still... Still I have a point to make.

This time I am a lot clearer about the immortality of the soul and that Baba is going to be much happier with God than he was with us. I know that he got away with all his responsibilities and with no more aspirations and anxieties his soul shalt rise to the purest of the heavenly skies and shalt rest in peace. There has been a mutual understanding between me and Baba. He never told me anything related to his quest for the Divine Peace but I could always figure out looking at his eyes that he wanted me to at least ponder over why he was thirsty of the Divine wine. Though I could figure out all that only once I myself started pining for the ultimate peace. It was that struggle which opened my eyes and I realized the true significance of death. Now I'm no longer moved much by deaths in a grievous manner rather I take them as reminders to my promises and duties. I know I am getting a bit perverted but that's only to rekindle the inquisitiveness in you about God and more importantly, about yourself.