He does Susanta. Seated in the cavity of the heart, he listens not only to the prayers and the supplications of his devotees but to the music of the spheres within and without. He is the source and inspiration of it all and he is the ocean where it all subsides in harmonic flow. Ramakrishna was the epitome of divine music, its embodiment in flesh and form, its very essence in earthly encasement. How may I describe him who is past all circumscription, all depiction in colour or contour, whose blithe spirit unfolds its wings to take to flights of fancy in the limpid spaces transcending the world of mundane motivations, whose fluid soul ever remains at the interface of the realms of the relative and the absolute, O pray, how may I, enfeebled as I am with a million maladies, ever hope to enter the secret chambers of his heart who is the throb of all sentience? He is the eternal Om permeating the cosmos, springing life into things, attuning the diverse elements of this vast symphony to a concord of consciousness that unites all, a melody marvellous that meanders through the myriad meadows of Maya. His being is of a light supernal, his form congealed in love and his spirit soars to the ends of an endless stretch encompassing all in its enfolded embrace. Such, Susanta, is the Old Man (Ramakrishna) who entered the form of the youth (Narendranath) in a moment of supreme giving and transformed him into the prophet of our times. What music, what symphony, what a delight displayed, here on forsaken earth, that life itself has become an eternal springtime and heaven no more a distant dream! Jai Ramakrishna!
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