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Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Adhavan (8): The Art of Dying

Chapter 7: The Art of Dying

Unlock it. Let it soar up to the heavens.

Translation 


Son, in the center of the crown of the head! 
Came therein, three together, sun, moon and the lamp 
Entwined it rushes down too 
Am telling you, ask the light in both the eyes 
Beyond the magnificent cosmic crown 
The victorious vortex looked like a polyp 
Straight, it entwined lights of both the eyes 
Certainly it became the light and filled it abundantly. 
—Siddhar Kakabhujander Hymn (008) 

The undergrowth was very thick and there wasn't any pathway, but Macham found one, obviously visible only to his eyes. He walked through it, as he would do on a clear Sunny day, without much of hassles. Sarutha was not there, she must have joined her Kids. Adhavan didn’t have a choice, in the middle of the forest, but to literally follow him, of course, he did that; stepped without knowing where he was stepping on; moved without knowing what was before him; turned around without knowing what was next to him. The darkness was thicker than the thickness of the woods, the tall, widespread trees not only hid the moon from the view, but the skies too. To walk in that complete darkness, in a new place, on an uneven terrain, amidst thick shrubs and towering trees, one must have unshakeable faith in the leader of the pack. Except for the torch in Macham’s hand, twenty paces away, there wasn't anything visible to his naked eyes. Keeping that light as destiny, he simply followed it, whichever way it went, he just kept following it. These few minutes’ walk, that of a blind man, had ridiculously tired him, he wondered what if he dies right at this moment, without reaching wherever the light was taking him through? What if he just forgets everything else and walks straight in to the light, ignoring all the cautious warnings of his age long, conditioned mind? Will he die? That was an out of bloom realization. He let himself loose, breathed easy, sharpened his senses, took off his eyes from the light and kept going; moved away when it was hard; shoved away when it yielded; shot through when nothing was there. That way, he just flew through the thickness like water, kept flowing smoothly wherever it took him, touching everything that he came across, yet not holding on to anything specific. He kept moving on and on and slowly started enjoying the touch and feel of everything in and around him. Finally, the natural flow, led him to the ten foot high, massive boulders. Macham was standing to his right, he must have been watching him move swiftly, but stealthily through the darkness, without much disturbing the inherent peace of the surroundings. They waited for Sarutha and the Kids, when their heads started showing up somewhere on the left, he alighted himself swiftly on top of the boulder, in one simple agile move, along with his torch. Sarutha, Killivalavan and Mathivathani took a different route, a smooth one, to climb up the boulders, whereas Adhavan followed Macham, somehow tried hard, managed to grab an edge and threw himself up the boulder. He needed to fine tune his physique, to suit these terrains, which is much more different than the one needed on the plains. Macham was helping the women to climb up the boulders, without much of physical effort.

Adhavan took this time in admiring the exquisite beauty, well exposed by the nature, for the beholder of the eyes, who can substantially sight and appreciate, aesthetics in any form, where the inherent beauty dwells within it, waiting for the observer to seek and find it for themselves. It’s a spectacular view to cherish, the space between the boulder and the surrounding hillocks, was filled with the backwaters; calm and clear, reflecting all of the nature around. Reflection is one of the many wonders of the nature, the moon on this water was surpassingly beautiful than the one in the sky, that could easily be convinced as its better clone on the earth. The backwaters curved and tapered, to the other side of the hillock, intriguing the mind to explore the hidden beauty. Surprisingly, Killivalavan, came and stood beside him with a basket on his shoulder, Mathivathani and Sarutha, came to Macham’s right. They all walked down the boulders, slowly, led by Macham in the center. As they neared the waters, Adhavan felt a cool current envelope him and give him involuntary jerks. He can feel that someone invisible was with him and unwilling to expose their form. Macham, stepped inside the waters, shuddered a moment, turned around, anointed each one of them with a handful of water. The ripples were soft on their feet, caressing them gently and wooing them to take deep refreshing dips, but contradicting to their expectations, the waters were shallow, even at the center they didn’t rise to their calf muscles. The hissing sound increased slowly, as they approached the inlet, a narrow two foot wide gap, slithering between the towering hillocks on either side. They passed the slit, carefully amidst glassy pebbles and jutting stones, seasoned frequently by rushing waters.

Adhavan was awe-struck by the fall of the waters; riding between the green edges furiously and eventually falling with grace; hitting the surface triumphantly and announcing its victory outrageously; splattering across the shores and spreading its goodness in the form of seeds of water that carried with it more than thousand blessings of thousand different herbs. The edges were covered by nature’s green paint and it grew across in height as it moved further away from the banks. Macham was taking them over the falls, along the river bed, to his place of choice for deep spiritual endeavors. On the banks of the smooth, fresh waters, amidst the stretch of cool vegetation, a piece of land looked very different, for its yellow stain on the green backdrop, owing to the beautiful spread of marsh marigolds, which then exposed a very narrow path that allowed only one person at a time. In a few minutes of walk, they were standing before the cave, whose opening resembled the face of a yawning tiger with a wide open mouth and a pair of sharp cut jaws. A stream of cool, clean water flew out through its mouth and curved away beautifully into a short stream, apparently, it will feed the main course of waters. Macham stood before the cave, turned around, looked up at the sky, closed his palms, raised it above his head and uttered a few words in silence. Killivalavan found a wooden mug on the sides of the cave; took water from the stream; poured it in the big stone lamp, erected over the center of the mount, a few feet from the opening of the cave, above the flowing stream. Mathivathani, followed him; took a wick made of glued dried reeds; drenched it in the stream, running below the mount; squeezed the water tight; dipped it in the herbal oil; placed it over the lamp, filled with water, one end protruding outside slightly and another end neatly coiled around, over the lamp base. Then they both turned and looked at Macham simultaneously, he came forward and gave the torch to Mathivathani. She lighted the lamp, the light shoved away the darkness by few paces, exposing the insides of a dark expanding cave and unlit lamps on either side. As Killivalavan filled each lamp with the cool water from the stream, Mathivathani lit them one after another and the growing light pushed away the darkness further  into an ever expanding cave. They ran in criss-cross, from right to left and then left to right, one after another, since lamps on the same side were placed twenty feet away, whereas the ones across were at ten feet away, right from the center between two lamps on the this side. While, Mathivathani was lighting the lamps, Killivalavan was busy pouring water into the lamps; faster and faster, the serpent made of fire kept slithering into the cave, chasing away the pervading darkness.

Macham and Sarutha walked side by side and Adhavan followed them. It was an exasperating walk, he lost count, more than fifty lamps have been lit, the cave was still expanding, growing deeper with the burrowing of the darkness that went on and on, both Killivalavan and Mathivathani were racing ahead, playing a game of catching up with one another, finally, the serpent of fire halted, right at a big, five-facet circular lamp, on a six foot pillar, it continued to spit light on all sides and suffused the big, widespread cave with its golden light, set ablaze. When they came near, Killivalavan asked, “Appa, should we light the other three passages on the other three directions?” and Macham replied, “It won’t be necessary, as the other three will not be coming over here for a stretch of another three full-moons. May be you can light the other three big five-facet lamps around this fountain.”

Right in the center of the cave, water from the deep spring, sprouted upwards by two feet, formed a natural, glowing fountain, well lit by the herbal lamps on all four pillars, it ran through all four passages unbridled and it became the source of all four streams, galloping freely, outside the cave. From the cave entrance, it would appear that a serpent of fire is flowing out from a brightly lit lamp, hanging in the mid air. Adhavan looked around the cave, more than the expansive space, ample enough to contain a legion, it was the symmetry, maintained across, in all aspects that drew awe inspirations from the onlookers, it is too good, to have been crafted by nature, on its own, without the interference of human intelligence.

Killivalavan raised fire with a few of firewood he brought with him, they all sat around it and enjoyed the warmth it generated. May be in another few hours, the Sun would rise, but the party was terribly tired to be awake, they stretched their bodies and rested a bit. Sarutha and Mathivathani together, Killivalavan and Adhavan on the other side, in a few moments of time they all fell asleep, except Macham, who squatted right before the fire camp, below the big lamp and kept staring at the settling moon, through the passage they came through. It has been a routine practice of mother nature to cover the green hills, on each day’s night with a cool blanket made of mist; invisible in the night, but visible in the Morning, but on each day, without fail, well before the Sun rise, it was torn out into many pieces. Sarutha woke up all of them, to see the rising Sun, through the passage, over the green hills covered by such a worn out blanket, that soon will wither away from the radiance of the brilliant Sun. However, it was a stupendous, breathtaking view. They all appreciated the gifted view of the Sun.

Macham was still in the same position, now staring at the Sun. His eyes were widespread and was bulging out; it looked like, it would pop out, even if he sneezes once, lightly. His head was cocked a bit right, tilted upwards, as though someone was really trying hard, sucking him out, forcefully through the top of his head. His arms were folded across the legs; palms clasped with a tight grip; tip of the thumb fingers touched one another. Though he was squatting, his body was so tensed and hard that his sinews were raw cuts protruding on all sides from his skinny body. If he exerts some more internal pressure his body might burst into unrecognizable pieces. He was so still, like a polished sculpture carved out of a big, black, granite slab. Adhavan tried to touch him, but there was this thick, unseen layer that protected him, which was so hard that he couldn't penetrate, even after pushing in forcefully with all his might. He tried to poke him with one of the firewood, he plunged it in vain, it didn't pierce that invisible layer, rather it broke away. His aura had grown so strong, that in itself had become a thick, protective sheath over him. Sarutha told Adhavan, that he is aware and it will take him some time for him to come down, so she asked him to wait patiently. Not knowing what to do, he squatted beside him in a similar position and gazed at the Sun. Slowly, he started feeling it. His body too become rigid and hard. It contracted, his eyes bulged, the ringing in his ears increased many fold and he started hearing the sound “mmmm...”. His navel contracted multiple times in spasms, his lungs heaved up, air inside it was squeezed out and an unexplainable, untameable force surged upwards, thrusting it out, trying to eject itself through the crown of his head; mounted with enormous pressure, it was expected to burst open the crown and smash out the brains, at any given moment, rather, it got ejected, when he pushed further, he saw that bright white path of light, that he has not seen in his life, through the concentric circles of greens and blues, that sparkled into wild thunders, blended strongly into speckless blinding white light, with the surging force, the lamp within, travelled past his body, soared up the path of  the light. He kept going on and on into that unending path of light, he was no more his mortal body, he had died, he had left his body below and had entered that glorious, dazzling path of light knowingly, well aware, in good health and sound mental conditions, as soon as he realized that, Macham started tapping on his back, rhythmically, on the third tap he was pulled down into his body, by a sheer brutal force.

Adhavan opened his eyes, coughed heavily as the air rushed into his lungs, turned around, looked at Macham, he would have slapped him hard for bringing him down forcefully, but something beyond his control held him back, it has not subsided yet, he kept staring at him without a blink, as though he would kill him, that immediate moment, if his reins were let loose. Sarutha can’t help smiling at both of them, which eased the situation a bit. Killivalavan, broke the cold silence, asked Adhavan, “Will you help me in getting Appa’s cave ready?” Still, Adhavan was not able to take off that, gangster type, standoff stare. Slowly, he realized, what he had seen today, was what Macham was experiencing almost every day in his Samadhis, hence to make him experience it, he had literally infused himself into him and let him see what he has seen; without words; without written down procedures; without chantings; without having a bath; without excreting the feces; without strict penance; without a statue of their god; without their conceptual god; without garlands and sacrifices; without sugar and honey; without arguments; without fighting for it; without any little expectation; without the knowledge about it; literally without anything but for his body, mind and soul. Macham, placed his hand over his right shoulders, tapped him gently and said, “You have learned the art of dying. You can master it by practicing it on your own, provided you make a truce that you will not leave your body, until seeking an approval from your Guru Athri.” Adhavan nodded and said, “Yes.” Then, he staggered along, with Killivalavan slowly. Macham kept staring at the Sun, still he was in the same squatting position. He had not moved a bit.

Killivalavan found a big lamp, filled it with water, Mathivathani came forward, lit it; held it in her palms and gave light to both of them. He then handpicked a few firewood, bundled it and gave it to Adhavan, found out a piece of old cloth behind one of the pillars, drenched it in the stream, without squeezing it, threw it stylishly over his shoulders and allowed it to drip on his back. He then took the lamp from Mathivathani, collected herbal oil and wick, started walking towards the cave walls. As they neared the walls, Adhavan could see lots of carvings, inscriptions and few large sized perturbations on the walls, the holes, within which a man could comfortably rest, sit, squat, kneel, stand and lie down at ease. It could even be used for a focused study. Using small stubs and foot rests, he started climbing the walls, as one would stride on the meadows, on a bright, fresh morning. Adhavan followed him, admiring the work done, to enhance the natural beauty of the cave and the sophistication gone in, to accommodate their deep spiritual quests. The height of the cave would count for four storeys and all of them had a collection of massive carvings, inscriptions, paintings and holes, as they climbed up, he was able to see the streaks of sunlight getting in through the natural perforations. Something must have disturbed the hanging bats, they swirled around the spring, five times, before settling again. He looked down, Macham was sitting flat; legs stretched apart; hands behind holding the torso relaxedly. Sarutha and Mathivathani were giving him a bath from the spring waters. They were doing it very religiously; pouring water on his crown; rubbing him smoothly with their bare hands; massaging his back, shoulders, thighs and calves; pressing his feet and arching it upwards. Macham’s body yielded, whichever way they worked on it, all through this bathing ceremony. Killivalavan whistled softly, Adhavan looked at him, he signalled him to climb up, Adhavan was struck by the act of reverence, no later, he realized that he needed to climb further, he followed him immediately, into the hole. There, Killivalavan placed the lamp on the mount, at the end of the hole. He took all the manuscripts made of the palm leaves, placed it in a square basket, made of bamboo, gave that to Adhavan and started wiping the ground hard with the wet cloth he brought with him. Adhavan stood there studying the hole, well assisted by the lamp. He could trace the carvings, inscriptions and even the markings on its roof plates and hole walls. Though it was a bit difficult to read, they could be understood if pursued hard. Keeping that thought away, he studied the structure, it resembled the shape of the lamp, it had few natural perforations and slits on the walls, through which the streaks of the sunlight entered the hole, during some part of the day the streaks will fall right over the lamp, that will ignite a chemical reaction of the thin hanging air, sunlight, herbal oil, wick and the water, for sure it will ionize the air and improve the condition of the hole, it will elevate the mood of the aspirant, helping them to probe further into the higher realms of divinity.

Killivalavan took the basket from his hands and placed it to the right of the lamp, one roll of manuscript, fell from the basket, straight before the lamp, Adhavan took that in his hands and read it aloud, “Theshai.” It was written by Siddhar Roma Rishi. He asked Killivalavan, “Can I have this one for reading?" He smilingly replied, “It is yours, if Appa wants you to read it.” Then he took the firewood, placed it at the entrance of the hole, straight before the lamp. He arranged few of them in heaps; bundled the remaining and stored them to the left of the entrance, by the walls; sprayed the herbal oil all over the firewood and set it ablaze; placed the remaining wick and herbal oil to his right, by the side of the lamp. Once done, they jointly climbed down, Killivalavan empty handed and Adhavan with Siddhar Roma Rishi’s, “Theshai.” It was a lovely view, from the base, to see these young men climb down the walls, together, in simple agile moves. In no matter of time, they were standing behind Sarutha.

Macham was in padmasana; eyes closed; palms folded inwards, over his groin. Mathivathani gave Killivalavan, a mug of water, he took that in his left hand, stood beside Macham and guided the water, over the crown of Macham’s head, using his right palm, poured three mugs of water, followed by Adhavan, who for his part, poured another three mugs of water in the same way, but when Adhavan poured it second time, Macham’s body quivered involuntarily, he opened his eyes and looked at everyone around him. After that, one after another, they fell before him, and got his blessings. Mathivathani and Killivalavan helped him to stand up. Adhavan showed him the manuscript and asked him, “Can I take, ‘Theshai’ by Roma Rishi for reading?” Macham immediately corrected him and said, “Guru Roma Rishi” after a pause, he continued, “Yes, you can read them, if you want a copy you can request Sarutha for one, but remember, your time has not come yet.” Saying that, he placed his left hand over Sarutha’s right shoulder, balanced himself a bit and stood straight. Looking straight into the hole, he said, “Come and fetch me out of the hole, on the day before Full Moon. Six days from now.” Then, he started walking towards the hole, this time Killivalavan alone, followed him, with a mug of water. Adhavan was looking at both of them, they jointly climbed up the cave; father and son together. Killivalavan had on him, that perfect balance of harmony in action, he surely, must be an expert in varmam and adimurai, not even a drop of water fell from his mug. His moves were better than Macham’s, there wasn't any resistance or fiction in Killivalavan's stride. He used the stubs and footrests, to his advantage, lurched himself higher and higher over the walls, that too, with a mug of water in one hand, filled to its brim. When Macham was only half-way through, he was there within the hole, he placed the mug of water, right before the lamp, checked it all around, not even a drop of water was shed, the bottom and the sides of the mug were still dry, he was happy for himself, that his skills have improved a lot, over the previous visit. He listened to his fathers’ breathing, sensed his presence, ten paces well below the entrance of the hole, turned around, walked towards the entrance, without even looking out for him, he lay flat on his chest and threw his right arm down, Macham grabbed it with his left hand and shoved himself up into the hole. Then he touched his father’s feet, kissed the fingers that touched it, looked at him straight, but earnestly. Macham then nodded slightly, that is the sign for him to leave, he turned around and started climbing down faster than he came up. Here at the basement, Mathivathani had washed the cloth they used for wiping the hole and let it dry below the pillar. When Killivalavan joined them, they all walked through the passage in complete silence. On the way out too, they systematically checked all the lamps. Outside, the sun was climbing the high skies, tearing away the cloudy mist. They all grouped at the entrance of the cave; washed their faces; took in the warmth of the sun; gave themselves, time to attend to their natural calls; geared up for the downhill walk.
 (To be continued...)
 Written on Dates: 03/13/;03/14/;03/15/;03/16/;03/17/;03/18/2015
Chapter 1 The Realization of the Vocation
Chapter 2 The First Glimpse of the Third Eye
Chapter 3 The Complete Surrender
Chapter 4 The Sacredness of the Divine Incarnation
Chapter 5 The Veneration of a Guru
Chapter 6 The Immortality

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