Recovering the Sacred - Dhyaanavati (top 10 best books of all time TXT) 📗

not
wake me up
and called to rise,
o Light of lights?!

Therefore, Thou canst not
abandon me now, when
the weak fabric of my
character has been
thoroughly torn apart,
unleashing the contents of
Pandora’s bottomless chest;
neither canst Thou reject my plea to
fulfill the promised purpose of our
destined encounter and abolish
every sense of separation
embracing me forever
in the Fire Dance
of Thy Heart.


2

O Arunachala, the merciful
nursery of the seers of all calibers,
didst not Thy maharishi speak a truth
praising Thy grace as greater than that
of the mother? How much greater it
must be than that of a lover! Hence
take up Thy duty as my Parent
and recast me up to Thy
liking, o Arunachala of
tender nerves with arms
stretching to every corner
of the universe! And when
ripened, enjoy me as my Lover
to whom I give my all, o Arunachala
the peerless Partner, the essence of Beauty
hiding in every mould! Will Thou not answer
my prayer, Thou who, easily pleased, promptly
respond to the cries of the noblest souls and
the worst sinners alike—with a purifying
innocence and a simple hug of Thy
sweet everlasting fondness?

Why art Thou so hard on me? O
do not allow that honor of Thy sage
be questioned by doubting multitudes,
who badly need the convincing
proofs of Thy workings,
for their greater good.


3

After all, Arunachala, Thou
being the real dwelling of my
soul, is not this longing also but
Thy calling to Thyself buried in me
to rise and release all the worldly grips
allowing Thy spark to flare up and merge
with the column of fire and light Thou art?
O Arunachala, the immaculate Linga,
the all-pervasive form of the first
sound that vibrated out of Thy
Self-enclosed infinity
into the manifold!
Let me delve in
the clear land of
Thy generous bosom
and grow my roots therein
firm and deep, sucking Thy sap,
sweetest of all, sprouting in spotless
love of Thee. O Wisdom infallible and
pristine, Thou hold the worlds and
destiny of all beings at Thy Feet
that conceal the Mystery of
mysteries, even to gods
out of reach.


4

O Arunachala, do attend to my appeal with
the heartstrings Thou art known by, hear
what troubles my restless mind and
aching heart. Do not act
as though I am not
of Thee. Thou must not
treat me laissez-fair and let
me get utterly lost, not finding
a place to be, roaming around
with no purpose, no use.


O dost not pretend
in Thy world I do not
exist neither I carry Thy seed,
the word Thou gave me long ago.
Who will safeguard the riches of
this being if Thou refuse
to do it, o Lord of
the beggars?


How canst Thou,
auspiciousness itself,
ignore my plight and
watch me drowning
in the mud of lust,
puppet of senses?
Thou should not be
indifferent to the soul shrinking
in pain, lacking Thy protection and
acknowledgment that she is Thine and
Thine only. Is this Thy love and compassion?


5


Dost Thou want me to
endlessly stay in the dark
shadows of self-indulgence
and grovel in dirt of my fancies,
trapped in the deadlock of mental
somersaults looping from pleasure
into suffering—or Thou will
keep Thy word and
take me where
I belong?
How
canst Thou
remain blind and
deadly asleep in this
body Thou covertly
inhabit, thus locked
out of a possibility of
yet another unfolding of
Thy Being? Without further
delay come to my rescue now and
demonstrate the truth of Thy relation
to me—both as Thy dwelling place
and a part inseparable from Thee.


6

O Arunachala, Lord of the serpent queen,
dost not keep her so deaf in me,
rising her heads only
to turn them stubbornly
outward. Why dost Thou
allow that I get lost in
the jungle of ever
multiplying
wants,
pulled by
numberless
attractions of
the mambo-jumbo
of this world-moll—
instead of firmly tying
the desirous mind to
Thy beatific, ever
blissful Form
that absorbs
and infuses all?


7

O Lord of gods and beasts, Thou
should not neglect Thy duty. Do take
care of this temple of Thine and shine
resplendently through all the clouds
and veils from its inmost shrine,
o Mount of the crescent moon.
Dost not forsake me,
Beloved of both
lows and highs,
darkness and light,
row and sublime,
Thou who prudently
use all to create a space
in the old for a new order
divine—dost not let me tumble
all over again in Thy spider-web
of allurements that have mercilessly
alienated me from Thee, breath of my
breath, light of my eye, golden vein
in an iron rod that Thou also art!


O Arunachala, the fire vehicle of
supreme Realty! Thou must not
allow Thy property to be misused
by obtrusion of unwelcome guests.
How canst Thou hide the truth
that I am Thy own too—
ever since Thou
possessed me
in an outburst of
impassioned love, Thy
saving grace in disguise?
Is this Thy manliness?


8

O, come to Thy sense of fairness
with pity of Thy Heart! Do not insult
Thyself in me with misery of the lowly
thoughts and such a lonely life,
that devious suicidal
turnabout of
Thy alones
to which a soul
unavoidably yields if Thou
dost not back her up and accept
with all her meandering and misdeeds.
How canst Thou pull away Thy support now,
thus waste one life and Thy own time-substance
Thou have given to it? Thou should not allow
the crowd hungry for sensations to
accuse Thee of any haughty and
heartless stance, harshness
and lies. Henceforth, do
the needed, unveil
the truth shining
beneath this guile
Thou have created for
a reason known only to Thee.


For goodness sake, do have mercy,
o Arunachala of the kindest demeanor!
Plunge Thyself deeply in the recesses
of my being and settle Thy anchor
in its innermost sea.
O help me find
my place of
utter serenity in
the cave of Thy Heart, so
that Thou canst rest with me on
the soft bed of blossoming orchard.


9

O Arunachala, the Dawn Mountain,
will Thou not receive me in Thy Hall of
Enlightenment? Thou have brought me all
the way to this limbo—do not leave me now!
What is the use of circumambulating along
Thy foothills and offering the flowers of
my being’s pining for Thee,
fulfillment of all desires,
while staying in
the backburner of
Thy hub of happenings,
if Thou art not to let me enter
Thy main gate? Why then have
Thou dragged me this far and
made me a beggar with no
dignity whatsoever
crying her heart
and guts out for
manna of Thy grace?


10

O Arunachala, benevolent
rains of light, who else can wash
the tears of embarrassment from my face,
sweat and dirt from my sheaths, who remove
the crusts from the old wounds and put
a balm on new ones? Thou have
pulled me out with Thy hand
from alive sand of my past—
how canst Thou leave me
hanging for so long
in this void dark,
neither death
nor a new life?


Do bend down as
I am reaching up for
Thee in all my armless
sincerity, o Great Attractor
of the souls’ secret wealth;
take me thenceforth in
Thy arms and carry
as Thy bride over
the threshold of
this hut in dust to
Thy Kingdom Divine.


11

O Axis of all the worlds,
the source of infinite potentialities!
Thou art the One who dances eternally
in the lotus of manifesting cosmos
suffused with nectar of
Thy Bliss. Let me
drink of it till
I drop dead—
mind conquered
in a frenzy of love
kissing Thy sweet feet.
Let my old cloths burn in
Thy fire rings, and I become
Thy bee that pleases Thee
with every figure of
her honey dance.
O Arunachala,
the breast
bursting with
drinks of immortals,
have I not found my Beloved!


12

Alas!
Why art Thou
not responding yet?
O, dost not probe me
anymore, dost not play with
me like that, Arunachala,
the supreme benefactor of
all! My heart canst not stand
one more bout of menacing deception.
Cover me now with Thy umbrella of grace!
Precisely, in the face of Thy spiritual grandeur
this life is worth less than a dust speck on Thy sole,
smaller than a microbe in an ant’s mouth hole; yet,
there must be something else in the soil of
this land pregnant with Thee.


Aching for showers of Thy embracive
smile—to feed the seed Thou
sowed in me—I am
waiting for
the whole of Thee
to be revealed before
my recovered eye in
an incomparable
act of mercy,
o most favorite
Lover of all awake to
witness glory of the Real.


13


Oh no, dost not say that this pregnancy is
my fantasy, an accident or a mistake! Would that be
the manner of maturity and loving care, o Arunachala,
beacon of the ancients? Any further play with me
in that way would be a mere cruelty.
Thou canst not allow being
accused of this. Dost not
test me any more! Now
that I have poured myself
into Thee, o brightest body
in the dark night of the earth, what
else is left to do? Of what avail is waiting for
any call? Just receive me in the intimate quarters of
Thy eternal abode. Dost not doubt my determination to remove whatever is on the soul’s way thro the last sacred
junction of the meeting rivers, where Thou established Thy
main office for domestic affairs—even if it is to be the most
cherished little self. And if I happen to stumble, falter or
fall into the old vicious mill, cheap sentiments and
weary thoughts, dost not hesitate to remind me
on this vow, o light pillar of divine Nous.


14

Lo, I am on the dead bed
now, unable to move or
say anything, and
Thou have not
come yet. Only
the ocean’s balmy breath
caresses the lifeless body to
the vultures left, and I perceive:
all sounds melt away in the indifferent
night breeze play, and the soul, a bare
quiver, stripped of all her clothes,
continues her lonely journey.
Whose scam is all of this?
Please, if thou art here
make me intensely aware.


Why didst Thou wake
my body at the first place
and stir in me the