IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT

IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT

There is a veil that covers our eyes and hides Reality from us. In the dead of night this veil lifts, the screen shifts and reveals a Reality altogether apart that attests to the fact that we are hypnotised human beings, hopelessly caught in a world of imaginary dreams and desires, of finite aspirations and ambitions, of thought-pools and causal currents where we are being whirled round and round in an endless cyclical movement. These are derivatives of thought that follow later but in the dead of night when the screen shifts, consciousness comes in capsule form of concentrated realisation that this world of phenomenal dreams is utterly false, a hallucination, a superimposition that has no substantive reality. One witnesses this strange unfolding of the Real behind the magical cover of Maya but only for a brief while before the dancing waves of Maya hide the Real once again and one finds oneself caught in the old familiar world of forms and figures. The concentration flags and dilution drags the mind down to sensory levels where the old familiar patterns in cyclical rhythms continue and one is thrown into a sleep while in the wakeful state. For once the dream had broken, if even partially and one was privy to the deeper Reality of one's existence that is deathless and super-conscious with a freedom that Matter cannot curb. It is concentration in the hour of stillness in the dead of night that reveals and when the moments expire, cracks appear through which Maya