Niranjan Guha Roy
Here is my meditation for the New Year, 1982
I try to reach the utmost confines of time till my consciousness bursts the boundaries of past, present and future and enters a state of timelessness, eternity, a consciousness which always is separate from, unaffected by the passing show, the endless procession of names and forms, swimming universes rising and disappearing in the flood of time. There is nothing stable. Time flows ceaselessly carrying in its current the eternal wonder of dawns and sunsets. The base is stable, subtler than the subtlest substance, yet substance of all the time flow. The show is perpetual and forever renewed. The tiniest flower, which for a morning glows in a meadow with its fugitive blue and pink petals, is an eternally recurring refrain in the vast symphony of time … it will come back again on another earth in another distant cycle, when our earth disappears or is transformed into something else. All is contained in all. The highest divinities and the darkest monsters are made from the same unseizable primordial substance. Masks and facades, multi coloured wave patterns rushing through time before some witnessing eye do not hide the One Player, so intimate, yet forever unknown and unknowable. Look into the Past. Probe the future. Scrutinise the Present. There is the same friendly face, the bewitching smile of the utter Stranger. In this vast, boundless, timeless indivisible Sameness, do I exist? Do you? Does anybody indeed? Can a dewdrop see the Sun? A sunflower feels and turns to the Sun. So here and there through the ages there have been souls who could perceive this hidden indivisible unique Sun. The Sun looks at itself through its myriad fragments. Always the same, indivisible, unfathomable, mysterious, eternal, infinite Light.
Shine evermore in our consciousness. May you get reflected without distortion, deformation in our purified transparent mirror of the soul. The Light has been, is, and will be always there, for there is nothing else. Did I say masks and wave patterns? I am wrong. Each blossom, each face, each form, dark and dangerous, delightful and ravishing is a sculptured poise of that immutable Light. My soul is numb and silent before that ineffable Oneness which pervades all time, all existence. There is only the One and the timeless manifestation of the One. O soul, forever contemplate the One intimate, yet forever impossible inaccessible. Let me get lost in the marvelous One.
Let our limited, divided consciousness dissolve in the all sustaining, original Mother Consciousness.
Om namo, Om namo, Om namo.
Om Douce Mère, Om Sri Aurobindo.