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.


Niranjan Guha Roy