Hariom, I have posted three stories — two are adaptations from the Mahabharata and one from the Zen tradition. The key ideas that filter through the stories are: life and death is a play-act of the immortal Self, and hence flow with it; minimise attachment as you roller-coaster along the ups and downs of relational life; spiritual life is more than repeating what others have said or done — it is always a new path, you make it as you walk it. Enjoy. — Swami Bodhananda, 21 August 2007
Brahmachari Visvabandhu, after long years of service in the ashram, approached his Guru Prabuddhapada and asked for the supreme knowledge, knowing which there will be nothing more to be known. The Guru taught him every mantra that is in the scriptures and asked him to meditate and realise the Truth for himself.
Brahmachari Visvabandhu retired to the forest and contemplated for twelve years, and came back and reported to the Guru: “Guruji, I realised the effulgent immortal Self in me, beyond the five sheaths, transcending the three bodies, the witness of waking, dream and deep sleep, and of the nature of sat-chit-ananda.”
“That is all, after twelve years of meditation? Go and do it again,” said the Guru.
Brahmachari Visvabandhu went into the forest again to practise a stricter form of meditation. Twelve years passed. There was a glow on his face when he returned to report to the Guru. “I realised the all-pervading effulgent Self of my heart shining equally in all beings. There is only one Self, the Self of all,” said the excited Brahmachari to his Guru.
“Go away, these things you can read in the books,” rebuked the Guru, unimpressed.
Undeterred, Visvabandhu retired once again to the seclusion of the forest. He meditated, practised severe forms of pranayama, chanted difficult mantras, stood on his head for long hours in the rain, lived on dry leaves and water, and finally the realisation dawned on him, and he came back and announced: “Param Pujya Guruji, I realised, to my consternation and wonder, that the Self that shines in me, in you and in all is the same Self that manifests as this visible panoramic world of names and forms, of flora and fauna — the mountains, rivers, forests, stars, babies, bats and baboons. There is only One, not many.”
The old wise Guru looked at the overwhelmed disciple quizzically and said, “What you said, even a third-rate poet knows and writes about. Go and dig deep.”
Brahmachari Visvabandhu was at his wit's end. He somehow dragged himself to the wild forest to continue his meditation, for he knew nothing better. This time he wandered in the deep forest thinking nothing, feeling nothing, doing nothing, being nothing, knowing nothing, wanting nothing… he just floated with the rhythm of the breeze. After a long, long time he came to his Guru. This time he had a halo, and he spoke in riddles.
“Revered Guruji,” he paused and continued, “I am enlightened. There is nothing — no self, no world, no me, no you, no mind, no mindlessness, no ego, no beyond-ego, no bondage, no liberation, no cause, no effect, no karma, no doer, no enjoyer, no destination, no destiny, no silence. And the formless void is form, and form is formless void.”
Hearing Visvabandhu's declaration the Guru roared with laughter and said in mock anger, “You stupid, why waste my time? These things I have heard umpteen times, from Gautama the Buddha onwards. Without wasting my time any further, go and meditate.”
Emaciated and weak from long and arduous austerities, Brahmachari Visvabandhu staggered back and disappeared into the twilight of the forest. Years after years elapsed. Seasons came and went. The Brahmachari did not return. The Guru grew restless and anxious. One day the old Guru decided to go to the forest himself and enquire about the well-being of his dear disciple. After a long search he found Visvabandhu sitting by a lake, feeding ducks. The Guru approached him with overflowing love and asked, “How are you, dear? Did you find what you searched for?”
While brushing off drops of water from a duck's back, Brahmachari Visvabandhu said indifferently, “WHO CARES!”
Those words echoed and re-echoed through the wilderness of the forest.
Swami Bodhananda