Something I wrote just as Devguru was transiting from the 8th to the 9th of the Kalpurusha chart (pretty close to when my writing career on Astrological Magazine came to an end after a few recent articles published there including the articles on kalapurusha chart). For me an era came to an end. Back in late seventies or so my first ever article on astrology was accepted and published in that illustrious Journal that true to the well-known humility of BV Raman called itself a Magazine and not a Journal (higher status as scientists amongst us know for sure!). Well 28 years is not a short association! Many marriages do not last that long and 28 being the age of Mangal -- little wonder! Raman's and actually his grandfather's publication has finally been put to rest.
I would not call the following LONG write-up a specific tribute or sharing which has anything to do with The Astrological Magazine or the GREAT BV Raman who has been dubbed as the Modern Varahamihira of Jyotish by his well-wishers in India, but just something for those who like to read my writing {{please feel free to quote that as proof of my egoistic-in-your-face persona}}, as my grateful offering to you all wonderful beings who through your silence even have sustained me and kept me going! THE Others SHOULD have refrained from even reading this sharing as the HEADER WARNED CLEARLY!
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THE BRAHMIN IN A TIGHT SPOT!
<<an observation by rohiniranjan>>
Originally penned on October 11, 2007
Tired from his long and arduous journey, the Brahmin arrived at his next destination where he must spend time for the next year, nearly twelve cycles of the Sun and knew that Mother will pass him by every month but She will be helpless to ease his pain, his sorrows or to even share the beautiful relationship that they both usually have, surrounded by the best essence of what we extol in the Paradise where the strength and majestic mien of the Elephant was promised to work side by side with the prowess of the Lion, which some have visualized as Ganapati riding His Mother’s Vahana. This in no way is a reference to the modern teenagers borrowing their parent’s car for an evening out, just in case you are wondering! Modern teenagers may wear long jeans that sweep the streets for free like an elephant’s grand trunk, but Ganapatis they are not! But then again, in some countries more developed than others, obesity in childhood and teen years is becoming recognized as a serious health problem, but I digress!
While, generally speaking, having gotten used to his various experiences for what seemed at times like lifetimes, the Brahmin must find yet again new bearings and start afresh again. This new terrain is not exactly friendly and offers a camping ground with difficult milieu. More than difficult, it is unpredictable and uncertain. And full of holes! And the holes hold within their wombs surprises, nasty surprises! Venomous and surreptitious shockers at times! Threatening all the time that the camping experience could turn out to be a short misadventure indeed! You see, the Brahmin is still mortal and must not assume that he has overcome the powers of death that despite his experience and piety, he must obey still, ancients allegories notwithstanding! Although truth be told, there are always more than *two* births, whichever way one cuts it! And if the adventure does end up abruptly due to a false move, a hasty curiosity that makes him probe one of these mysterious holes in the ground surrounding, then he knows that he will just have to keep returning to this bootcamp of human experience again and again, until he gets it right! And the *unfair* (my judgment! The Brahmin never said that word, I assure you!!) thing in this deal that is going on is that his memory is wiped clean, each time he is sent down to learn!
There is a sense of fear in this campground, some of it real, such as the venomous snakes and scorpions and other poisonous insects which can stay hidden or reveal themselves and not entirely in accordance to your choice, or in conformity to your personal convenience! The tension never relaxes and yet one must do what Brahmins must do, sans choice!
Above all, the Brahmin must give. Must keep on giving, in order to stay a brahmin! This is non-negotiable and if the giving stops, collection agents with a big K on their starched uniforms (for KARMA I suppose?) may show up, and take the Brahmin in for a long period of Self-Questioning, the most torturous of all inquisitions. One can spend lifetimes alone with oneself but always questioning and judging oneself for days at end. It is very harrowing and so demeaning and fearsome that some religions have chosen to give it a different name: guilt, and have even created elaborate systems whereby they can consult others and unload their guilt! Kind of a buddy system! Takes some of the onus and personal responsibility! Easier on the soul! Perhaps the Brahmin must explore that once he gets to the next station which would be more in his domain and kind of like the 9th heaven! “Maybe a lucrative opportunity lies ahead and there is hope!”, in that moment of duality, mutability, the Brahmin wonders...
All that feverish rambling aside, the Brahmin has indeed landed in an unknown, perhaps even uncharted territory (as far as he can figure out. Do remember though that he has difficulty in clearly remembering experiences from one campground to the other, and at times even if he visits the same campground again and again, particularly this one full of randhras and venomous reptiles – deadly and mysterious, and enticing!)
There is neither food here, nor clean water and the Brahmin must live on himself! And I do mean ‘ON”! What he has collected as extra nourishment in the past few lifetimes must now be his sole support and source of energy! As he consumes ‘himself’, as he grows thin physically he realizes that he has had this ability to see always, so he uses it to look around! About time, some would say!
Hungry, nearing that point of hopelessness of ever being able to escape this desert, fearing for life, curious to explore but knowing the deadly consequences, at least the potential consequences, the Brahmin suddenly discovers that if he can stay still, very still, the fear diminishes, and the reptiles leave his imagination alone for increasing periods of time! Perhaps it takes a few camping trips into this zone, which is fixed (time flows slower and thus seems longer unless you have reprogrammed your internal cosmic clock!), before the Brahmin realizes that all of this is predictable and something he can control! And as he controls himself, so does he his surroundings and even his destiny (you must pardon his premature sense of relief! He is after all in a difficult zone as you now have come to know from this account!). He gets bored obviously but soon learns that he can keep himself occupied, immovable and first and foremost out of trouble by focusing on his breath! So he does that and as he continues, keeps on consuming himself, some would say cashing in on his Karma Savings and living off those.
With the sense of vision rediscovered, his drishti, what does he see? Glory and peace and joy! He looks to his right and sees his home which is next to a grand ocean in which fish play in all glory and angelic children swim with their youthful enthusiasm lighting up the darkest night of the soul. Their silver and golden scales creating many many more colours and there is a sense of final emancipation in the air, a job well done, that “soon shall be returning back home” feeling that stirs a desire in the heart of the Brahmin, more emaciated than emancipated from here and now reality in the desert full of scorpions and other reptiles and all these secrets buried in his surroundings that he dare not explore! And when he looks to his left, roughly the same distance away, as his home was, there lies the golden castle! The Potala of his dreams and what he took as a promise of destiny! That pinnacle of exaltation, high upon the hills, within his gaze, within his reach? NO! The Brahmin is still fully aware and not hallucinating yet, despite hunger, lack of comfort and all other tortures that the current campground brings to him. A vision may seem real but it is not reality!
The Brahmin is in a tight spot because he can see it all! His beautiful home, his palace of exaltation, and when he looks to those places placed equidistant from his tattered tent, he sends his love and the little joy that still is in his heart A longing arises. As it does so does a realization that it is all within reach, just his for the taking! Where did this thought come from? You see, the Brahmin still has his senses with him. His arms stretch out, carefully, to relieve the tension of sitting up straight too long, but he does that slowly and cautiously lest he awaken some reptile waiting to pounce upon the Brahmin at the slightest hint of the latter managing to attain some comfort, some respite from the harsh bootcamp!
His fingers brush against something. Something falls. It is a book. A dusty old book. He picks it up. It is an ancient manual full of strange figures and what seem like procedures and recipes. Most of these are not even intelligible or in a script that he can read in the large but dimly lit tent. Curiously, he opens the first page. It is blank and black. The next page is black too, but in white letters is a statement written on it: From darkness was born Light!
The Brahmin stayed up all night reading the ancient manual, understanding a bit but not all of it. He suddenly realized that he was surrounded by reptiles but they were keeping their distance! Suddenly, the Brahmin felt powerful, devoid of fear, at least from the reptiles! “Looks like this camping trip is going to turn out just fine!”, he mused with a twinkle in his eyes and a glow in his heart. The surges of power that were flowing through his body were something he had ‘never’ experienced. [SIC! Although, mind you, he did not really have what could be called, “Total Recall!”].
Ah, finally he could rest without fear. Decades of sleeplessness descended upon him. Reality seemed to fade away.
The Angels found him next morning, in rigid rigor mortis, riddled with bitemarks, still holding on to the book of magic, his dead eyes wide open, one looking towards his home which was just five camps ahead, the other looking at the Potala, just five camps before!
One of the Angels commented, “He shouldn’t have opened his eyes in this campground full of reptiles and holes and glanced at his home and happiness! Or if he did, he should never have trusted his surroundings and gone to sleep!”
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