And the moon waxed and waned, and the seasons passed by, returning at regular intervals. And the summer heat made way for torrential rains, the rains made way for mellow autumn that made way for mild winter, which, in turn, made way for severe cold, and severe cold made way for bright spring—when the trees dressed up in fresh green coats—and the forest came alive in the shades of rainbow pastels of orange and green and violet and yellow flowers. And the birds came back singing to the forest after their winter recess. And the pleasant sunshine poured down to the forest floor once more where dead leaves shed by the trees in winter rustled under the trample of Zara’s feet and those of other animals.
And as with most other creatures, the forest became home to Zara as she wandered around from tree to tree, chatting up the animals and birds.
Still, the lure of the city remained as Zara wondered if she would ever find her way out when, one bright morning, the koel sang:
You are weak, he is strong,
Every friendship has a purpose.
Don’t fall in love . . .
‘Don’t fall in love . . . in love . . . in love . . .’ the other birds joined in.
‘In love . . . in love . . . in love,’ Zara, too, joined them.
‘Don’t fall in love . . .’ the koel sang.
‘You are weak, he is strong,
Is strong . . . is strong . . . is strong,’ the other birds sang.
‘Every friendship has a purpose . . . a purpose . . . a purpose,’ Zara joined the chorus.
And the west wind blew in, sweeping the forest floor, driving the dry leaves around from here to there and from there to here.
‘Retain your freedom, Zaru,’ the west wind said. Don’t rest your mind on the objects around . . . on the body . . . on the person. Unshackle yourself, Zaru, lose your sense of the body.’
‘Come clear,’ Zara told the west wind, raising her voice above the din created by the rustling of leaves on the forest floor.
‘Look at the trees, Zaru, they never mourn the loss of their dead leaves, they just let them fall. Never mourn the loss of the body, object, or person, but take good care of all things while they last. Have fun, Zaru, but never possess whateva you consider your own.’
Zara heard out the west wind and looked up at the branches to catch a glimpse of the koel. When she couldn’t find her, she turned to the west wind, and asked, ‘Windy, where’s the koel gone? She sings so well. And she’s foreva free. I can sense that in her voice.’
‘Yes, she’s entirely free, Zaru. And that freedom gives her such a lovely voice. If you hear them well, Zaru, no two birds in the forest sing the same. Each has her distinct voice. And yet, they all sing well because they all are free.’
‘Not all the birds, Windy. Certainly not the peacock. It looks so good, but it’s got a lousy voice, kaw . . . kaw . . . kaw,’ Zara said, strutting about like a peacock,
‘That’s because the peacock is not free, Zaru. He’s trapped in the image of his own beauty to be really free.’
‘So, how does one get free, Windy?’ Zara asked.
‘Aha! You really wish to know?’ the west wind asked back.
‘Really!’ said Zara.
‘Well, well, well, the secret to the freedom is not to be a scatterbrain. Freedom demands a lot of patience and focus. The secret to freedom, Zaru, is to resolve to be free. The secret to freedom, Zaru, is to be able to break the rule book only when the situation so demands. Break the rule, Zaru, to be free. And don’t get affected by it. That’s the secret to freedom.’
‘I see, Windy, the secret to freedom lies in the chance you take,’ Zara said.
‘That’s more like it, Zaru,’ the west wind came back. ‘The seeker is forever in search of an opportunity. Sadly, when that opportunity comes knocking, most don’t pick it up.’
‘And how does one really pick up a chance?’ Zara asked the west wind.
‘Just empty yourself within. Never be neither here nor there. Be either here or there. Be either in the city or the forest. Don’t keep standing at the crossroads foreva. That, Zaru, is the essence of being. So, give yourself a push to pick up your chance. And soon, you’ll be outside the forest.’
‘Thank you, Windy,’ Zara said. She took one last long look at the pond where the elephant had gone down. And finally, blowing a thank you kiss to the banyan, Zara embarked on her arduous journey beyond.
The west wind smiled, hugged Zara, and leading her out through the thicket, said, ‘Come, I’ll join you some distance. Don’t be too careful, Zara, but don’t be too careless either. The time has come for you to leave the forest and head for the city, don’t change your belief this time.’
Zara stretched out her hand in the direction of the wind, as if holding her hand out to her to be led out of the undergrowth, as she cleared her path with her other arm, her smile, finally back on her face.
Looking at her, the west wind said, ‘That’s good. You look cheerful again. Practice equanimity, Zaru, and don’t harbour a doubt.’
In a moment, Zara was enveloped by the jungle.
CHAPTER 10
Late that night, as Zara followed the west wind through the long and unending forest, thorns biting into her skin, she stopped for a moment, tugging the west wind by her hand, and looked back in the direction of the banyan and the pond.
It was pitch dark.
‘Is it wrong, Windy, to fall in love?’ Zara asked, images of her desperate dash to save the elephant flashing through her mind.
‘Keep looking, Zaru,’ the west wind said in a calm, collected manner. ‘Love others as you would love yourself. But delink your emotions from physical attachment.’
‘The elephant, Windy,’ said Zara, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘I miss Elly very much, just as I would miss you if you were to leave me now.’
‘Zaru, know this well,’ the west wind said. ‘The basis of all existence is love. Do not judge, just love. And do not live in doubt.’
‘I do not live in doubt. It’s just that Elly and I grew up together.’
‘What’s the use of past, Zaru? The past is dead. As for what will happen tomorrow, if I were gone? Well, nobody really has seen the future . . .’
‘Live in the present, Zaru. Live now!’ the west wind said.
‘I know . . . I know,’ said Zara.
‘Be calm, Zara. Be patient. Do not hurry!’ the west wind said, kissing Zara, moistening her face.
‘It is essential that you do not break anybody’s heart with your words. Do not give. Just love, Zaru!’
And all was quiet again.
CHAPTER 11
Early in the morning, as the sun rose in the eastern sky, painting the canvas overhead in shades of pink and blue, Zara stood at the edge of the forest, facing a vast mustard field to the west, blanketed by tiny yellow flowers crowning slender green stalks, beyond which flowed the river at a distance in a giant muddy swell of a curve, hugging the field in her gentle sweep, its far bank flanked by a wide glass, steel- and sandstone-clad structure fronting the city of Zara’s imagination.
The building basked in the pale-pink reflection of dawn under the great dark void higher up that, in turn, was pierced by the white marble pyramid atop the black granite skyscraper, rising behind the sandstone building, to merge into the light-blue sky enclosing the forest behind Zara in a broad arc.
Zara waved a silent goodbye to the forest. The koel sang in the deep, ‘Cooh . . . cooh!’
Zara watched nature’s glory unfolding in marvellous rapture, in 360-degree loop from her toe forward, then rising from the horizon as she stood erect, in a trance, her arms resting at her waist, her hips drawn in, her chest drawn out. And she drew in a deep breath, drowning her senses in the breeze made fragrant by the scent of the dry earth beneath her feet.
‘Just observe, Zaru, soak in the beauty of the moment to which you now belong, that’s knowledge,’ the west wind whispered, caressing her face, hugging Zara tight, and planting a soft moist kiss on her cheek.
Zara shut her eyes, sto
od silently, listening.
And then, she said in a husky voice, ‘The forest is gone.’
‘The forest is still there where it was, Zaru,’ the west wind retorted, ‘it’s you who has left the forest behind to reach your destination. It had nothing to do with you.’
And the west wind rose to the sky.
‘Go, make yourself, Zaru,’ she said, ‘but be careful not to make others. The thirsty shall seek their own wells of wisdom.’
‘I get it. So, how do I make myself from now on?’ shouted Zara, looking skywards.
‘It’s easy, darling,’ the west wind said, turning her face to the ground where Zara stood. ‘Let me tell you the dos and don’ts of being.’
‘To be myself?’ Zara asked.
‘Yes,’ said the west wind. ‘Don’t seek advice in place of practice. Don’t seek company in place of solitude. Don’t seek to construct in the midst of destruction. Seek not when it’s time to give up.’
‘Practice to walk alone and deconstruct the labyrinth of your mind in order to rid yourself of fear,’ interrupted Zara.
‘Yes, well said, Zaru. That’s how you will reach your destination,’ the west wind said, rising higher and higher.
Zara waved at the west wind . . . reflecting and thinking.
Thinking!
And she broke into a verse:
High hopes, desperate moments,
Excruciating effort.
The destination far too distant:
A lofty wonder,
Towering above all else
In grand eloquence.
Foreboding, majestic, dark, dominating.
Surveying the creatures below.
Out of the reach of the ordinary,
Yet, captivating
The explorer’s imagination,
I wish I could climb!
Hazardous, unscalable peak,
Bewildering!
But, not quite insurmountable.
I’m on the long, narrow path to greatness,
The weak of heart
Curiously milling around . . .
Letting the world know . . .
The journeyman’s set his course
In quest for everlasting glory,
Trekking alone through
The dark and dangerous
Bends of the mind.
Steep narrow stairway,
Slippery landings, dark passageways,
And suddenly, a monstrous abyss
Interrupting the path.
A shrill cry piercing the ear . . .
I wish to run back to where I belong.
And then, there’s stillness
Quiet!
The summit right ahead,
Standing proud,
Still unconquered.
But now, I know . . .
I have arrived!
Calmness manifest,
That’s I.
Countless arms rising high:
‘Om Shanti!’
In unbounded joy, I find completion.
CHAPTER 12
‘Welcome to your Universe, Zara,’ a voice called out from yonder, far beyond the mustard field, at a distance of an elephant’s day-long march, where the river flowed by in glorious majesty.
Zara looked up, stretched out her arms to the world, and smiled.
And then, she stepped out into the field, one foot forward, twirling in the breeze. Twirling . . . twirling . . . twirling . . . when, all of a sudden, the west wind came down on her in one giant swoop, wrapping herself around Zara in a tight embrace in clockwork motion, first, gently and then, gathering pace with the force of a gale. And the earth at her feet merged with the mustard yellow and green, with the muddy brown of the river, with the dazzle and glitter of the steel and glass and sandstone and dark granite, with the blue of the sky above, with the hues of the rainbow, stretching into a sea of white, before eventually plunging into the dark ocean of a full-blown tornado, heartlessly cold, uprooting Zara from the ground and tossing her heavenwards.
And in that churning, Zara started losing control of her sense of self, rapidly shedding height from a staff long, four arms in length, to an arm’s measure, to a foot long, to fourteen times smaller, the size of a thumb, to ten times still smaller, the size of a barley corn, to that of a mustard seed, to the point of a human hair, shrinking further to a particle of dust, where she ceased to exist in visible light, to ten nanometres in size, and then, down to an atom, super condensing at 454 degrees below zero Fahrenheit, where she began to lose control of her senses, mind, intellect, and ego. There, her eyes could not see, her mind could not grasp, her deathless self had neither colour nor creed, neither eyes nor ears, neither hands nor feet nor mouth.
And so, in the flutter of an eyelid, Zara was reduced to Z.E.R.O., at which point, she let out a primordial scream: ‘I aaaaaaaaaam Nothing!’
And that, indeed, was the moment when her self became infinite in the great, and in the small, everlasting and changeless, the source of life, unborn, without the body and mind.
And her voice, trapped in the monster whirlwind, resonated, ‘Nothing . . . nothing . . . nothing . . . othing . . . a thing . . . a thing . . . a Thing . . .’
And even as the echo drowned, a deep sonorous voice emerged from within the hollow of the gale:
‘Where there is Nothing, Zara, there is always Something.’
And with that, the whirlwind unfurled in rapid anti-clockwise motion, unwinding Zara at the speed of thought.
And Zara heard the voice of darkness say:
From Nothing arises Consciousness . . .
That arousal is Movement
This Movement is Reverberation
That Reverberation is Energy
This Energy is Power
That Power is the Basis of Attraction
This Attraction is the Basis of all Creation
That Creation is the Reverberation of Something
That appears as Nothing
This Nothing is the Whole
That Whole is symbolised by the Dot
(Whereupon Zara reappeared in visible light within the funnel of the whirlwind to the point of a particle of dust, blue in colour spinning on its own axis.)
This Dot is the manifestation of Nothing
That, indeed, is the Self that is Centred on and Complete in Itself
This Dot that appears as Nothing is Virtual Reality
The Consciousness of this Dot, which is the Self, is Self-Consciousness
That Self-Consciousness is the Ego
This Ego is Mine
That that is Mine belongs to Me
This Me is what the Self perceives of Me
That that the Self perceives of Me Within is what the Self sees of Me.
This Self indeed is that Self
That Self sees this Self with the Eye
This Eye sees that Self with the Inner Eye
That Inner Eye is I
This I is the Quantification of Zero
That Quantification is also the first known Quantity
This Quantity of I is an Idea
(Whereupon a second Dot appeared in the dim light of the funnel, green in colour, each dot now the size of a point of a hair, spinning on its own axis and orbiting one another.)
That Idea is the Eternal Nature of I
This Nature in its Original State is Instinct
That Instinct leads to Individuality
This Individuality results in Identity
That Identity creates the Image
This Image is the Icon
That Icon leads to You
This You is Universal
That Universal is Knowledge
This Knowledge of I resides in You
That Knowledge is what I Need
This Need is what IOU
That that IOU is the Trinity of Being
This Trinity is represented by this I, in my original state of being that resides in what appears as nothing that reverberates as the Idea of individuality that gives me the iden
tity that creates the image that is the icon that is You that is Complete in itself Therefore, IOU in the culmination of the Self in You
That indeed is the Beginning and this also is the End
This is the Spirit that created the Son out of the Father
That Spirit is the Basis of Faith
This is Therefore That
That Therefore is I Am
This I Am is what You are
That Therefore, is what IOU
That that IOU is the culmination of this Self in that You, making for a Virtuous Circle
(Upon which the two Dots were joined by Zara’s Image as a third Dot, red in colour, each dot now the size of a mustard seed spinning on its own axis and orbiting one another in a virtuous circle within the funnel.)
This Circle reverberates into bigger and bigger circles centred on the Dot
That Dot is I
This Circle is, therefore, the Reverberation of the I in You
That IOU is the manifestation of the Idea that is I, and that Idea is Nothing, rendering Myself Zero till it becomes You
This You is only a Virtual Manifestation of that I manifested in the Idea
That You cannot be proven otherwise but for the Real I that by itself appears as Nothing
This is also to say in Real, IOU Nothing
That, indeed, is the basis of Transaction
This is also to say that that Real is Void
That is also to say that that Virtual, too, is Void
This is to say that in Virtual Reality what appears to be Real is also Virtual
That is to say that as in the Real, so in Virtual Reality, IOU Nothing
This is to say that when IOU Nothing, I am Free
This Freedom, therefore, is Virtual Reality
That Freedom is also Real because this Me that is Virtual is also that Me that is Real
This is because I cannot exist in reality just by Myself and need to Create You, that is virtual Me
That is the reason that I need to live in Virtual Reality
This makes Me live in You
That alone, Therefore, is the Basis of Relationship
This Relationship is the first Virtuous Cycle that grows out of I in You and encompasses the Universe in larger and larger Reverberations from Family to Community to Society to Nation to Commonwealth to Planet to the Solar System to the Galaxy to the Universe to the Cosmos
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