The light of bliss,
The heavenly joy,
Is solidifying in my being.
Ambrosia tastes like honey,
It's the gift of grace from,
The light of grace.
It's drizzling outside,
Thunderbolt can be heard,
And inside it's stream of comfort.
It's the true home.
It's indescribable beatitude.
A body watches a dance.
And a blissful experience,
Grows on and on.
Having seen the misery,
The horror and suffering,
I gasped for breath in an existential nightmare;
You came forth as peace,
I didn't recognise you.
I kept reading, searching, meditating.
I kept looking for formulae.
You established yourself in my heart.
You took away my worries.
My possessions, ambitions, personalities.
You gave yourself to me!
And made me firmly established in the Truth.
I never wanted anything else.
You're my everything.
It's true: it doesn't matter if it's my last day here or the first.
I have you now: forever!
Our union is an everlasting life.
I hope : you would either eradicate this persistent urge to end it here: or really end it.
I have gained fruition.
All that anyone can gain is bliss of your eternal dance.
It felt like being transported to a new world today;
I only hover over this body at times;
There's a screen of consciousness,
A dancing screen,
Made of scintillating light,
A golden cursor lets me,
Paint empty pictures,
It's not a dead light,
Not a radiation or an afterglow as Science has it!
They all have it wrong!
It's the source and the destination.
It's a mystery to senses.
It's a mystery to mind.
Throbbing with bliss,
This void is the flip-flop dance of being and nonbeing.
Some say being is synonymous with consciousness,
Some others say: they're different.
In being, which is this mystic dance- all questions and doubts drop.
Sleep is induced for senses.
It's a waking sleep.
Thus the transcendental waking and sleep coexist.
It's the fullness of Thuriya.
It's been my home.
With every passing day;
It's becoming more profound.
Did those mystics know,
These books on chaos,
Were going to be mimicked after their bliss codes?
They didn't imagine science abundantly showing their beloved on television screens!
The human brain is modified to accommodate this new mind,
Eyes become camera like sensitive,
Glands and senses become hyperactive,
All this for one experience which matters: genuine bliss which lasts!
How did I know in my heart,
In the beginning itself,
That perpetual ecstasy was a fact?
I knew it. And it's a fact.
Despite all horrors of decay, death, aging and limitations around;
There's indeed something like everlasting love and bliss,
I tell this based on my own experience,
For it will never be taken away from me.
I have reached. This is my Home.
It has been flowering. I love the taste of this honey. It’s best medicine for the ailment of the existential nightmare. My being has become so full of bliss. The music of flute and jingling bells chime. Cold bliss wells up in my heart with occasional tears. It has enraptured my soul. The life seems perfect in interpreting the mystic dance. I don’t want to talk about anything else. I humbly watch the dance with awe and wonder. This mystic dancer has accepted my humble offerings unto its dancing feet.
It’s exquisite indeed. This dimension of perception reveals our purpose of being here. It’s to witness this divine dance of reality. It’s beyond life and death. Beyond happiness and unhappiness. It’s lasting peace and liberation.
Her feet are on ground but the body is spread all over!
The blessed one. The Bhagwan. The God. The Godhead. The Absolute. Reality. All are the names of my mystic partner who is dancing right now before my very own eyes. It’s also dancing in my body. It tastes sweet in my mouth in form of ambrosia. It rings musical in my ears. It’s the highest good. It’s capable of performing all things. It’s omnipresent and omnipotent. It’s omniscient. It knows all but nobody knows it.
My boat has been sailing too long,
Alas! Far too long.
I have been floating on cosmic waters.
The shore hasn’t been reached!
Alas! The shore!
With every passing day: the yearning consumes me more!
With every drop of nectar,
Sweet sublime beauty,
The thirst becomes more.
My boat on cosmic waters,
Hasn’t reached the shore!
It’s already too late!
Day and night,
I drink ambrosia,
Dripping from the bosom of the lady divine;
Who dances blissfully in my heart,
This golden dance is genuine experience known as enlightenment,
When it reveals itself,
The ego is subdued by the bliss,
It’s like reading a book of bliss forever!
This mystic dancer has enslaved me!
I think only about it,
I talk only about it,
I long only for this union,
It tastes sweet, sounds sweet, feels sweet;
This ancient dancer is limitless,
It dances in the golden hall of gnosis,
It is ambrosia,
It doesn’t judge,
It’s all goodness,
The mystic dance,
Mixing with every cell,
Blasts in bliss,
It’s without a beginning or an end.
It’s beyond everything and yet
Knower of all.
It doesn’t judge you for your rank
Because compared to it everything is limited-no matter how exalted it seems.
It’s neither one nor many because it’s the only thing,
It knows no other.
To this bliss : every being belongs.
Towards this bliss: every being strives
To this bliss every being returns,
1. I have begun the third iteration of registering books in library.
2. Took some time to read Vinoba Bhaave’s commentary on Vedas.
3. Last few days have been interesting self discovery.
4. This mystic dance which fills every inch of space within and without is my sole object of study and search now. It’s musical and it’s sweet like nectar. It’s a conscious living presence. In fact: all living presence emanates from it.
5. The mystic dance is the player who does and undoes and yet it’s not a doer. It’s beyond human perception as far as its comprehension is concerned.
6. When it reveals itself as your innermost core of being: it takes away your ego structures. Your belief in your identity is turned upside down. Either thoughts or this takes your attention. The more it takes your attention: thoughts begin to reduce. This reveals itself as a vibrant field which eliminates all unwanted thoughts and ideas.
7. In that sense: even the most holy thoughts are thrown out of your system. Deleted. Forgotten. You can’t comprehend it until it happens. When it happens: you wonder whether it was really you who believed in those things.
8. Identities are make-believe ego structures. We assume certain roles and responsibilities and often make them our lives. When touch with pure unfettered consciousness is lost the reality asserts itself and it often seems like great suffering. Then you begin to drop those assumed roles and responsibilities: it’s interpreted as returning towards simplicity. It’s reality of pure being in action.