IN THE DARK HOUR OF THE NIGHT WHEN IT FLASHES LIGHT FOR A WHILE

IN THE DARK HOUR OF THE NIGHT WHEN IT FLASHES LIGHT FOR A WHILE

What does the man of the world know of love? He knows self-interest so well. Even spiritual orders spurn love for money, justifying collection to solidify welfare work. Thus is the Avatār's pronouncement for the Age spurned as society advances to its peril. 

In the darkened hours of the midnight sun, when the cloud cover of ignorance has shifted a little, comes the touch of the Divine, the spark of the Soul, and it is revealed unto one the vanity that is life with all its attachments and associations, all its vainglorious pursuits and prizes. Then in the ashes of the burning ghat one witnesses the futility of all that one has held dear, and one is released unto moments of freedom before the mosses cover the reflecting waters again and one is once more where one was, a creature trapped in space and time with all its binding conditions. But the memory lingers and beckons one on unto a fresher night of dark light. 

Written by Sugata Bose