O traveller of the highway, sit back, pray, leave the controls to the Driver. A supremely conscious power has chosen these clay images to live in them And transform the mud gradually to express some bliss of the Brahman.

O traveller of the highway, sit back, pray, leave the controls to the Driver.
A supremely conscious power has chosen these clay images to live in them
And transform the mud gradually to express some bliss of the Brahman

The universe is Your conscious self-becoming, self-discovery. In the minutest cells, You are present with Your omnipotence.

Our individual life is a gradual flowering of Your dreams yet unrealised, a long experiment, how to transform this mud, this fragile image, so precarious, so uncertain, so hopelessly weak into a deathless radiant godhead conscious of the One in all creation. It is not our effort however wonderful that can alter our destiny. Your unsleeping force works with an all-seeing wisdom in all, in each soul through ages transforming the dark elements into gold. These clay images can hardly support the least heat of Your fire. Yet behind these brittle vases, something slowly takes shape, the promise of a bright Godhead, a slow revealing outline, an unpolished encrusted glowing shadow of Your grandeur.

The outer casing becomes stronger at every birth to house the treasure. We live in the illusion of running the show while being driven. As the inner light escapes more and more, illumines the clay image,the mud house inhabited by a secret Divinity, the outer man suddenly becomes wise, clairvoyant, realises his nothingness. An unbelievable change comes over him – the master becomes slave. The frail house becomes conscious of the immortal heavenly Guest. The role is reversed : the indwelling Godhead openly takes the lead. The Mother Divine pours in the growing soul more and more her fire, her nectar, her transmuting Power in carefully calculated flow for the earthen jar unbaked, risks a breakdown with overdose.

Om Devi, sarvamangala, vijaya paramakatyanmayi janani saranam mama.

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Niranjan Guha Roy


Prayer to the Mother Divine -Build me a golden bridge over the gulf of Thy heart and mine. I know of no other heaven but that honeyed land of divine love.

Build me a golden bridge over the gulf of Thy heart and mine. I know of no other heaven but that honeyed land of divine love. Let Thy heart fill mine so that I am no longer "I" but Thou manifested through Thy love. I am not here to dig the mysterious depths and climb unknown heights and explore unmapped regions of high altitudes. I know Thy heart as the supreme Secret, the nucleus, the focal point, the very heart and love of the Supreme Being. The secret of secrets, the joy of joys, the Ananda of ananda, the supreme beatific Love. The all transmuting love flows out in a divine effulgence. The gold mine, diamond quarry, the mysterious lotus is there. Thy heart, the purple passion fruit of the eternity - the Love that forever is there. The supreme abode, the eternal child's playground where the All can find a shelter and yet leave unexhausted that maternal love. The dynamis of the created world is first energised in that Heart and then thrown out, but they cannot find an existence outside that circle of Love. Open our eyes Mother and let all our movements flow from the Great Heart - the mysterious lotus bud.

Thy Love is infinite, make my thirst for Thy Love too infinite. Be it an eternal unquenchable thirst - my heart a sahara aspiring for the moist - visitations of Thy Love.

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Niranjan Guha Roy