This world is the derivative of the Self. The world hangs on even as the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. The depth reality seemingly disintegrates to assume this multifarious order of name and form even as the absolute consciousness apparently splits into thought streams to give life to the universe. Life born, death follows in a spiralling cycle held by law, by karma till the dream breaks and restores the vision. Then freedom that had never gone, is. The universe vanishes, vanish the body, the mind and all of thought, and the Self reveals in its majesty, alone with the impossibility of replicating, and abiding in its frozen, yet, self-conscious presence, the being, through an eternity of a self-brooding silence. The smashed dream returns but with an altered hue and with spaces wide enough for its easy rupture unto Reality. Om!
Written by Sugata Bose
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