The compassionate One
And no, I am not lending any Freudian interpretation to this dream and neither will I accept the argument that it could be the workings of the sub-conscious...india Updated: Oct 15, 2003 21:58 IST
This is not a fictional account. I might have to change the names of people that I make a mention of just in case they desire it to be so. Rest all is true but there is obviously no way that I can prove that to you. The only motive behind writing this is to share with anyone (who is just as inclined towards) the little discoveries that I make in my attempt to see that which is not tangible but more real than what is. I really do look forward to hearing from whosoever wishes to write back to me about one's own feelings on the 'subject'. The link for writing back is given right below my own account. I hope to write to you every Wednesday and Saturday.
Hi! I think I would have to maintain a diary or something to jot down the things that I must share with you all... while on my way to work or back to home one odd incident would suddenly pop-up in my mind and I would resolve to write to you about it only to forget it all once again!
So before I continue from where I left the last time, I shall tell you about this dream that I had a month after my marriage. In my dream state I was lying down in my bed when I felt something crawling over me. It was a white snake but the strange part was that it didn't have a hood that snakes have... instead of the hood was something that I couldn't figure out... moreover, the snake didn't frighten me at all. I hoped for it to disappear after a while but found it right there when I opened my eyes the next time. Something told me in my dream that only after I fed milk to the snake, would it go. I did exactly that and after drinking all of it the snake left. All through the dream I wasn't a bit scared, in fact I felt a great familiarity with the snake.
The next morning I related the dream to my mom and she advised me to tell about it to my mother-in-law. "It could be the kul devta of their family, ask, do not take it lightly" she said. I felt slightly funny about doing it, in the sense calling up my mother-in-law to narrate a dream to her but then again my attitude of 'what's the harm anyway' helped me go ahead. And imagine my shock when my mother-in-law said, "Oh my God Megha, you are so lucky! That's our kul devta - He comes in the form of a white snake. He came to bless you and accept you in the family fold. Only a few lucky ones are bestowed with this darshan. Go to a Shiva temple and offer milk to the Naag devta there."
And no guys, I am not lending any Freudian interpretation to this dream and neither am I willing to accept the argument that it could the working of the sub-conscious because I had no clue that they had 'Naagraja' as their 'kul devta' and that too a white one! In fact, born and brought up in Delhi, in an absolutely 'urban' environment (sorry for making these superficial distinctions) I wasn't and in fact even now am not too familiar with the concept of 'kul devtas' and other such forms of deity worship. Earlier maybe I was more inclined to dismiss them as superstition and now I am sure that it is all a matter of faith... how so ever you choose to call on it, the positive force always responds.
This dream and countless other episodes (which I promise to tell you about as and when they bombard my memory) fuelled my innate desire to look behind the Mystic Veil.
So now, as I was telling you the last time, the book 'God lived with them' had a profound impact on me. I don't remember a single reading stretch when I went through the sacred pages without having to stop in between, as my eyes would flood with tears and my throat almost choked with the expanding lump. At all such times, every cell of my being, every drop of my blood beseeched the Lord to grace me with the same fervour, same passion as of the elevated souls I was reading about... I begged Him to direct me to a Guru or at least to never let me forget that nothing except Him is the only Truth... I was so scared that after finishing the book I would again sink into my mundane existence and go through life like an absolute bum. Every night I slept clinging to that book and since my husband belongs to the kind of family that I have already described to you, he never found my behaviour queer (just in case any one of you was wondering)!
One evening I got back home feeling absolutely down in the dumps - it had been a real bad day at work (I had been having an exceptionally harrowing time with one of my colleagues). My sure-shot way of springing back to a good mood is watching old Hindi movie songs that I have recorded on a VHS tape. I made myself a cup of tea and sat down on the couch to immerse myself in the world of black and white. Hardly had I begun to lose myself in the innocence of yesteryears that the damn tape stopped running. I was like 'this is the pits man, this is what you call a bad day'. Pushing the eject button didn't help; the tape would come out three-fourth of the way and then slide back. But I was determined to watch the tape ... "I am not letting this run me over completely now, it damn well will come out" and with great vigour I pushed the eject button again and again and again until my legs, my back and all of me started to hurt because of the crouching posture. God knows for how long I battled with the machine that evening, and then finally I dropped to the floor and held my head in my hands, tired and dejected.
"Thakurji (this is how several devotees of the Master, Sri Ramakrishna Paramahansa address Him), you know how I need to relax. You know how low I am feeling. Please, please have mercy and let me watch the tape. I know thakurji that it is not right of me to bother you for such seemingly small things but you are Omniscient and need I explain to you the state that I am in… please pull me out, please let me know that you are there. By doing so, you would not only allow me to get over my frame of mind but you would also tell me that you are there, that I deserve your love, that I have loved you from the bottom of my heart and that I have always reached out to you in all purity," I prayed intensely.
I pushed the eject button once more... as I look back that has been one of the most important moments in my life... I pushed the button with thakurji's name on my lips and lo! the tape came out. Holy Lord! For a moment I was paralysed and then as consciousness seeped back into my blood, I felt my skin hurting with goosebumps.
I flung myself to the floor and cried and cried for several minutes... thanking the Master, asking for forgiveness for doubting His presence, asking for forgiveness for bothering Him for such trivial things and thanking Him yet again for the compassionate understanding, after all He had condescended to listen to His child's importunate prayers in order to remove all the trepidations and anxieties that a newcomer to His refuge is bound to have.
This wasn't the only time that He yielded Himself to my petty, earthly demands; let us reserve that for Saturday, October 18th. You may still discard the above as a mere co-incidence but what happened the next time was like... wow! The compassion of our sweet Masters floor me completely... I feel so small the moment I think of them.