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(This was written on 23 September 2015 when Swami Dayananda Saraswati-ji of Arsha Vidya Gurukulam entered mahaasamaadhi at Rishikesh on the banks of the Ganges.)
You entered my life like a blazing star
When I had my young head in the clouds
Inflated like a balloon
Thought the scriptures were my pocket diaries
Understood every word they spoke
You did my deflation silently
Without my knowledge
Made me know how little I knew
And then slowly
Imparted into me the knowing
That I am the whole; am everything
I didn’t then realize
That you are the man
To whom I owed most in life
Till today when the news
Of your passing away
Welled my eyes
And drained my heart
You made me look at my body
Then at my thoughts
And then at the thinking me
The roles I played
Stages of life traversed
And asked me to remain
Ever the seeing me
Who is both being
And knowing too in one
You then made me dwell
On the fact that I am the self-shine
The worlds are made of to shine after
That I am the rose, I am the star
I am all that walked, flew and crawled
I am the rain, thunder, lightning
Everything that is a thing
Yet I am none but the fullest One
Eternal without a second
Beyond counts and wants
You taught me
How to freely act
In the sea of actions
Without getting wet
On legitimate desires
And accept the fruits
Whatever they are
As gifts from the One above
You showed me the value of values
The value of acceptance
And surrender to the Universal Will
Till the mirror of the mind
Is cleaned to reflect
The pristine glory of the Self
As that same Supreme Will
Indwelling in everything
You took from me
The fear of change and death
They say you passed away
On the banks of the Ganges
The Sun of the morrow I am sure
Will miss a grey beard and smile
Yet you have no death, you live on
In me and the things I see
The Sun, Moon and the humming bird
The grieving mind grieves
In the ignorance of a loss that can’t be
May Ma Ganges nurse you in her folds
And sing your eternal glory
As she traverses lands far and wide
That are accustomed to hearing
The universal songs of Truth
From our immemorial past
Soaked in prayerful tears I am
Oh Lord, bless us the ignorant bereaved
Peace, Peace, Peace! |
