The Death of a Soul

I have stumbled upon a huge void. It is as though I am seeing it for the first time, when I have been facing it all my life. Sometimes when something is too huge, you tend to ignore it unless you really step back and get an ariel view of it. And so it was the other day when I went for a Hindustani music concert titled “Bhakti Utsav”. I still remember the moment when I saw it. It was when Shri A. Maheshwar Rao was singing Jagannath Ashtakam, a Sanskrit hymn. And he was lost in a world of his own, singing for his Jagannath with his eyes closed, unaware of his surroundings. That’s when I saw it - The stark contrast between my life and his. Here was a man hardly a few feet away from me who could see something that I just could not. He was in a divine union. Like a beacon of light, he was shining on everyone, giving off himself… and there I was in the crowd, tears rolling down my eyes… only wishing my life had more meaning to it.

What was I? Just a girl with another job and parents to take care of, with dreams of saving more money for retirement, with plans of having children someday and saving for their education. My daily routine involves cooking, eating, sleeping, working… I will continue to do this all my life until one day I will be on my death bed and feel as though my whole life went by in a flash. I could actually summarize my entire life in those many words. That’s it? Is that all I am? And through blurry tears I saw this man… his grey hair, his careless sense of dressing with an old kurta and dhoti, his unshaved face and yet his eyes told me he had found peace. He had realized something much greater than the art he was performing. Maybe his art was a means to his realization. He had in him something that I strive to achieve in my life… purposefulness.

I have come to a definite conclusion. The death of a man is not when his heart fails. It is when he has no real purpose left. It is when he doesn’t strive for perfection any longer. It is when he learns nothing. It is when he stagnates. That in itself is the end of life.

I am gripped by fear now. Fear that I am dying a slow death. Fear that time is running out. I search for Surdas. I want to know how he felt each time he was singing for Lord Krishna. There’s a sudden burning urge to learn Sanskrit, so I understand the literature and the music. I search for the English translation of Ramcharitmanas… What did Lord Rama say to the boatman when the boatman said, “I only help people cross this river from one side to the other, but you… you help your devotees cross the ocean of samsara to salvation… What a difference there is Oh Rama, between you and me!” I listen to M.S singing “He Govinda He Gopala… ab tho jeevan haro…” which means, “I have given up this life Hey Govinda!” And I smile…

My father used to quote something that Ramakrishna Paramahamsa used to say. There are some fish that never get caught in a fisherman's net. Then there are some that get caught, but try hard fighting to get out of it. But there are a few that get caught and go deeper and deeper inside the net thinking they're getting free. Most human beings are like the third category. We don't realize that we're getting more and more trapped into the ways of this world, and all the while we're thinking we're living a perfect life... when we're actually heading towards our own deaths.

Until we find our own ways to set our selves free… let us at least strive. If nothing else, our life will be more purposeful and will reverberate with joy…