Life

Paid my respects to a much revered but little known Siddha today who attained Mahasamadhi yesterday morning. It was an unexpected event of the day, yet more than mere coincidence.

Originally, there was a plan to visit him this week....... for the first time. But I missed him narrowly. Unfortunately, I could see only the 90-year old body preserved in a glass encase.

His silence inside the case, his humble abode of living and his devotees’ quiet prayers hooked me into a contemplative mood for the rest of the day - how many different forms would I have broken and assembled in the fluidity of time?

Back home, the image on the mirror cracked for a moment in front of my eyes as if echoing the following lines from Gitanjali....


Death, thy servant, is at my door. He has crossed the unknown sea and brought thy call to my home.

The night is dark and my heart is fearful---yet I will take up the lamp, open my gates and bow to him my welcome. It is thy messenger who stands at my door.

I will worship him placing at his feet the treasure of my heart.

.....
.....

Like a rain-cloud of July hung low with its burden of unshed showers let all my mind bend down at thy door in one salutation to thee.

I could not stop smiling.

Death is most welcome!