WESAK 2008 - New Age Festival of Spiritual Unity and Blessings
Lectures, Teaching & Meditation On 17th,18th May 2008,9:30 am to 5:30 pm
venue: The auditoriam of the Indian Society of International Law, opposite the supreme Court 9, Bhagwan Dass Road, New Delhi.
Moon Light Meditation
19th May 2008, 6:30pm to 9:30pm Venue:97-A Eastern Avenue, Sainik Farm,New Delhi. For Reg:Poonam Sharma: 919313034752,Snigdha Nanda: 919818291375. More Detail>>
When we pursue happiness, it eludes you. However, when you recognise that happiness is the natural state of the soul, all you need is to eliminate all that comes between your happiness and you.
"God
is riding on his pony across the skies, keeping an eye on every little action
of yours, my little child," said the old man. What made him rather handsome was
his utter lack of physical beauty. The rats had robbed all his teeth from under
the pillow but his smile was divine—toothless and without any snarl. He had
clouds in his eyes and a sense of nonchalance for everything around him.
The children of the village loved his antics and the little anecdotes
he told them so effortlessly. His lack of pretense made the villagers
adore him. He loved everybody and had a smile for everybody.
The biggest mysteries
and the best hidden secrets in life are those that are omnipresent and glaring
at you. The old man was remarkable in a way. He cried your tears and shared your
laughter. Enthusiasm perpetuated around him. Yet he was unaffected by anything.
He spoke of God but never prayed. Guilt was an emotion unknown to him. The old
man appeared to be a cross between a gypsy and a saint. He gurgled with joy, his
thoughts were lofty and yet there was a tranquility within him that was beyond
the scope of mere mortals.
One of his favorite stories was how he had
quietly woken up one night and hidden behind a tree to see God wander into the
village, careful not to be identified. "He stepped into a puddle and wet his ankles
and the pony laughed!" remarked the old man rather gleefully to the wonderstruck
children around him. "Then God went into the village temple and sat down in deep
despair. Tears trickled down his angelic face and the nearby jungles began to
reverberate with the weeping of animals. I guess God too feels sad sometimes,"
the old man mused.
"Unable
to see so beautiful a face cry, I patted God on his shoulder and squeezed
his hand gently. The big round benevolent eyes beckoned me to soothe God.
I was dumbfounded at the lack of godliness and glimpses of weakness in
our creator. We are always praying to him for help. But he too has to
fight his own battles! God made man and gave us the earth—a festival
of gaiety and colors and springs and watermelons in the desert. And we
pay our due by thanking him vociferously through temples and mosques,"
the old man went on rather thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, God would
have been much happier if we appreciated his world more silently." He
added a few moments later: "When I patted God's shoulder, pearls of truth
fell from his mouth. 'Religion makes me cry,' uttered God sadly. He then
sat on his pony and rode off into the distant horizon."
The children and the village
folk stared at the old man, envying him for his encounter with God. They too stayed
awake in the long nights hoping for a miracle encounter but nothing happened.
The old man smiled mischievously. His identity was still a secret. He wondered
how the 'obvious' obviously escapes our eyes!
