Monday, May 5, 2008

thought of the day


MayA's function of hiding things is called 'tirodhAnaM'. Right now the
real Brahman that we are is *tirohitaM*, that is, hidden from us. The
hidden thing comes out by the dhyAna of ParamAtmA - so says BrahmasUtra,
but immediately, lest we may think it is an automatic consequence, it
adds, clearing up any confusion, "This hiding as well as the bondage
(caused by the hiding) are both by Ishvara. When we do nidhidhyAsanaM,
the removal of the hiding, the manifestation of the Truth and the grant
of mokshha, all are again the work of Ishvara". (III - 2-5). When the
Acharya writes the BhashyaM on this, he says, more explicitly, "This
manifestation will not happen automatically or naturally for all and
sundry. Only to that rare person who makes effort to do intense
nidhidhyAsana it happens by God's Grace". *na svabhAvata eva sarveshhAM
jantUnAM* -- 'Revelation' does not happen naturally for everybody.
*Ishvara-prasAdAt samsiddhasya kasyacit eva Avirbhavati* -- 'By God's
Grace It reveals only to that rare person who has the highest
achievement'.

The Sage of Kanchi

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Story of the Week

A legend tells how once Narada said to Krishna, "Lord, show me Maya." A few days passed away, and Krishna asked Narada to make a trip with him towards a desert, and after walking for several miles, Krishna said, "Narada, I am thirsty; can you fetch some water for me?" "I will go at once, sir, and get you water." So Narada went. At a little distance there was a village; he entered the village in search of water and knocked at a door, which was opened by a most beautiful young girl. At the sight of her he immediately forgot that his Master was waiting for water, perhaps dying for the want of it. He forgot everything and began to talk with the girl. All that day he did not return to his Master. The next day, he was again at the house, talking to the girl. That talk ripened into love; he asked the father for the daughter, and they were married and lived there and had children. Thus twelve years passed. His father-in-law died, he inherited his property. He lived, as he seemed to think, a very happy life with his wife and children, his fields and his cattle. and so forth. Then came a flood. One night the river rose until it overflowed its banks and flooded the whole village. Houses fell, men and animals were swept away and drowned, and everything was floating in the rush of the stream. Narada had to escape. With one hand be held his wife, and with the other two of his children; another child was on his shoulders, and he was trying to ford this tremendous flood. After a few steps he found the current was too strong, and the child on his shoulders fell and was borne away. A cry of despair came from Narada. In trying to save that child, he lost his grasp upon one of the others, and it also was lost. At last his wife, whom he clasped with all his might, was torn away by the current, and he was thrown on the bank, weeping and wailing in bitter lamentation. Behind him there came a gentle voice, "My child, where is the water? You went to fetch a pitcher of water, and I am waiting for you; you have been gone for quite half an hour." "Half an hour! " Narada exclaimed. Twelve whole years had passed through his mind, and all these scenes had happened in half an hour! And this is Maya.

ENJOY THE LEELA OF MAYA SHAKTI!

http://www.spiritual-eachers.com/vevekantalks/maya.htm

Anonymous said...

Thought for the Day

Ancient Hymns

In the early morning
I worship him who is beyond all thought and speech,
Yet by whose grace all speech is uttered
I worship him of whom the Scriptures say
That he shall not be limited by words
I worship him whom ancient sages name
The God of gods,
Him the unborn,
Him the perfect,
Him the source of all
In the early morning
I bow to him who dwelleth beyond darkness,
Who shineth as the sun:
I worship him who is perfection,
Him, entitled anciently the Wholly Good:
In him,
We, peering through this veil of darkness,
Imagine that we see the universe brought forth,
Even as, in darkness,
Men think a rope a snake.

Source: Gandhi- The Writer by Bhabani Bhattacharya

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