Tossed by the waves of uncertainty, drowning amidst the ocean of fear, I felt lost, it is a hard blow, the unexpected. I felt controlled by the invisible ropes of nature. Everything I kept so much faith on just was slipping away like grains of sand from a handful fist. Worldly desires felt a noose around my neck, now tightened, gasping for a breath of hope again. Were my desires wrongly placed? Is that the reason of my agony. Didn’t I give my heart into this? Claimed that the truth always wins, wasn’t I truthful? Strange, how sermons were ringing in my mind at an utter state of despair, rather in active state. Is this ignorance the cause? Wait! Should I bother or not? Can I choose not to suffer at this whip of Time?
This lamentation was arising from a loss, loss of someone, I, yes ‘I’ was so attached to. The blur picture of my future own self was the cause of fear. I was haunted by illusion, an unreasonable attachment, the nature of which is gripping. Things were never in my control, but the nature of mind, always tricks us, it goes in the plan making zone and laments at the failure, weird. Accepting the uncertainty of certainty is the biggest mistake, but being a detached observer of everything happening around is difficult indeed. I realize after several years that all my actions twined down to one fact “My Enjoyment” and Yoga is all opposite “Rejoicing in the self” rather external attachments.
Time takes away everything, from childhood to youth to old age and at the end our very own body, what is the purpose of this short-lived duration? Feeling insignificant, my eyes glance the nearby tall tree laden with dense branches and leaves, spanning across the road.
O tree, how long have you been living, perhaps more than me,
can you please tell me how to be free?
Tolerating gushes of wind, torrents of rain
How can you be always so sane?
Bearing flowers and fruits round the year,
Don’t you worry about your wear and tear?
Bearing the sun, you shade the beings,
How is it that you’re so kind?
Sheltering hundred species tiny and large,
Don’t you get tired by the growing age?
My roots grounded deep in the soil,
I extract strength for all the toil.
The more I extend within the ground,
More I withstand the storm all-round.
These fruits and flowers you see,
Is the reward for tolerance by the nature.
Beneath this earth resides my family,
Bonded with roots and living in harmony.
For men may come and men may go,
Their lives insignificant, shallow and low.
O dear, go deep within your existence,
That is where the secret lies.
More sentient and free than me,
Why do you ask, how to be free?
Troubled you are with the external storm,
Look inside you for the Real form . . .