7.0

A night at the island always sharpened his thinking. Maharishi concluded the root cause of misery in (his) modern world - that everyone held their point of view ‘sacrosanct’. People didn't look at the world from others' perspective - though, they wanted everyone to fully immerse in theirs. He felt, in the name of debate, the civilized world adopted the same old animal behaviour. We simply replaced muscle power with that of spoken words. And this was exact opposite to Vaśiṣṭha's blueprint for a civil society. Compassion was supposed to be the very basis of new design.

Being an astrologer, was a unique gift. Parasara had the ability to see the ‘present’ from people's perspective. If you couldn't see the present from someone's standpoint, what chance would you have to see their past, or their future? To know someone's future (or past), you got to know their present first, exactly the way they see it.

The revelation of last night however was - if we see the world exactly as another being does, then we also get to see “who we are” - from their standpoint. If you are on the path of ultimate quest, first thing you would want to notice is your own face! We rise the heights of mountains and sink to depths of oceans to figure out who we are? We explore the ends of space and also endlessly meditate in our own hearts to know who we are! And yet our eyes can't see our own face. Our ears can't hear our own beating heart. We must subscribe to another set of sensory apparatus to see who we are!

Walking back to Ashrama, Maharishi thought about the boat ride. At that moment with Matsya, when he blessed her with compassion, he felt as if he saw himself through her eyes. Though she was neither educated nor elite — but she was an embodiment of a commoner's hopes from the highest order of human wisdom. One who knew nothing to one who knew it all. Her purity and intelligence acted like an untainted mirror to Maharish's soul. He saw in her vantage the path he was on and what masses expected him to accomplish. They expected from him lot more than mere winning arguments against other Yogies, or to burn down the Rakshsas. They wanted him to pave a “path to peace” for the commoners. Because masses suffered untold miseries that never featured in any narrative - old or new. Elite Naad Yogies were busy solving problems of "greater good" - that in truth meant their own well-being and pleasures.

He saw he must rise to make a difference in the lives of ordinary people, and being the sole heir of Bramhrishi - the keeper of knowledge — that was his destiny. He must rise above the never-ending conflicts, and the petty prejudices of his own class, and must indulge in actions that the masses expected him to render on their behalf. He understood the idea of Karm Yoga though it was still beyond articulation. He also felt the extreme weight of the responsibility he retained. The privilege of being Vaśiṣṭha's grandson must be paid back!

For a moment, he missed his grandfather. He wished Bramhrishi was there with him, to guide him through this maze — to navigate him onto a righteous path!

7.1

Maharish saw Maitrea as he stepped into Ashrama. He was watering the trees at the entrance of congregation. Maitrea was much younger, but Maharishi treated him like a friend - not a senior student. For a moment Maharishi thought if he would be a right match for Matsya. Would he accept her as is? What if I blessed her to be beautiful - and fragrant! Maharishi brushed the thought away to speak to Maitrea.

Maitrea, wondering why Maharishi missed morning procession, asked with a curious smile - hope all well! He had barely finished greetings whenMaharishi responded to his question with a question ...

Maitrea if God is kind and loving , why is there misery in the world?

Maitrea understood Maharishi must have gone for a Samadhi, and something must be on his mind. He figured Maharishi needed an unbiased opinion - a fair coin-toss as an answer. Instead of asking the context, he spoke his mind - Maharishi, you only taught us that Bramh offers appropriate opportunity to every being. That opportunity is our little world around us. It is for us to choose what we make of it.

Maharishi smiled. Sometimes, clarity comes in a jiffy - and quite unrelated to the thought of the moment. Maitrea's answer meant the opportunity to 'write' was not uniquely his. For a second, he felt relief that it was not solely his responsibility! If text was the next big thing - like fire or wheel - many more would join the cause. At the same time, he felt anxious - What if Asuras were already writing books - to spread anarchy! What if they reached masses first ? Common people, likes of Matsya, were just a nudge away from losing faith. He knew innovation always had the first-mover advantage. The races that adopted wheels to make chariots, flourished. Those who adopted hardened iron made much better weapons - and literally killed the ones stuck with stone. He realized there was no way to stay still in this world. We always need to act. It was even more important at this juncture because high priests had already labeled scribing demonic. No one would be surprised if demons actually took to writing books.

There were some personal reasons holding Maharishi back - stopping him from going all in. He deemed his interest in ‘text’ might be perceived as being anti-establishment. He knew he was not a cynic, but he had uncomfortable positions with Naad Yogies — on them turning into gatekeepers of the knowledge. He was not sure if building a parallel channel of communication was good because it was good to his class - Nyaan Yogies; or was it truly a righteous path? Nor was he free from self-doubt — was he inclined towards ‘writing’ to satisfy his own ambition, or was it really for the greater good?

Once again he thought hard - am I trying to burn the system just because I have the advantage, thanks to my early training? Or is it righteous!

And he didn't want to make the same mistake as his father did - exposing an idea before it's time!

It was time to set the wheels rolling. A new set of basic terms must be written down and embedded into every instance of conscious thinking, every social contract — be it an individual, a group or even a kingdom — every single format of human organization. Time was ripe for a new narrative, but who would do that? How could someone crystallize the righteous path into written words. How and who will elucidate Karm Yoga to the masses? Maybe, it was a feat that be accomplished over many generations — like a relay race. Not only that, the path must be told as a compelling story that takes the collective consciousness onto a new charter — just the way Ramayana did in last eon. Stories, he thought, were the best way to circumvent a debate for they weave the context outside in. People see their own reflection is tales well told. But the story must be tested in physical reality. Because truth is what actually happens in the present. Uncountable impulses of the continuum must fructify into reality of actions. And only truth has the staying power!

Maharishi felt as if he wanted to create a little intervention in the fabric of reality - to see how the things shape up ! Let Bramh itself play the narrative and have someone record everything.

7.2

Maharish woke up in the middle of the night - halfway through a lucid dream. Sweat on his forehead and neck. He drank some water from the earthen pot by his side and sat down on his rug. He was talking to his father, but he couldn't see the face. In fact, he had never seen his father's face. For one, Sakti died before his birth, second there was no painting of him. It is hard to make up a face from description, and he never cared to ask anyone to draw his portrait - he was probably too busy in seeking the revenge that he forgot the very person he was fighting for.

He wondered if there was some artist alive who had seen him. He knew his father largely from his mother's stories - and the childhood chatter around him. Bramhrishi rarely shared his feelings about his son. It was too painful for him to revisit that fateful morning and the good times that led to the mishap. Only thing he always exuded was his own failure to stop Sakti take the path he took - literally and figuratively. He wished he was there that morning to sort the matter without anger crossing over both sides. And he wished Vishwamitra was kinder to Sakti - because Sakti was his admirer despite long-standing animosity between the two sages.

Next day, Maharishi sent a message to Ugrasen to check if there was a painting of his father or if there was an artist alive who could paint one. To his good luck Ugrsen himself came to Ashrama with a statue of Sakti Muni. Immediately after assuming the crown, he had ordered statues for his elders and he treated both Bramhrishi and Sakti Muni as his own.

7.3

Maharishi placed the statue in his room at waist height.

Every night he lit a small fire and sat in front of the statue. On twenty fist night - the night of full moon - he must have stared for over an hour. Seeking for resolve. He didn't know when he slipped into a trance. His eyes half closed, and lips murmuring. To an outsider it appeared as if he was chanting a mantra, but he was talking to his father - a first of his life - after spending fifty years in the dark.

Sakti Muni appeared younger and strong - Maharishi himself felt frail. Sakti's long hair well-made while his own felt unkempt. He almost wanted to sit down when Sakti held his hand. He felt energy flowing into his chest. Maharishi felt compassion for everything around. He felt thankful for the trees and air and earth beneath his feet as he looked down to find nothing.

Where am I? - he asked ! But he didn't get a response other than a big smile on Sakti's face.

As the euphoria settled a bit, Maharishi found himself in a maze. He was running for an exit, but every door was closed. There was no exit because all the exits were manned by the dead of his revenge. He felt like a little child lost in a village fair.

I did it for you - Maharishi shrieked - where are you now - get me out of here! - he wanted Sakti to say a word. And this time he got a response. The question probably came from the guts of his soul.

Did I ask you to take a revenge ? - asked Sakti Muni?

But what am I supposed to do if someone killed my clan ? - Parasara continued with same naïvety.

You are supposed to expand your clan - suggested Sakti.

What ? - that was the exact opposite of what Parasara did. He vowed for celibacy before he left the Ashrama! Celibacy, he was told, would turn into the firetraps of revenge, and it did happen.

Why are you surprised ? - asked the father - if you hate life - celibacy - wouldn't you be empowered to kill - burn the life ?

Clarity dawned upon Maharishi - what should I do now? - he bent on knees with his hands folded.

Bear a son - not for me or your forefathers - rear a child for that is the only exit for you.

But I am celibate for life !

What has celibacy to do with a child - you have seed of Bramh, and Siva and you yourself are blessed by Vishnu - manifestation is natural where three potencies meet!

Sakti disappeared - Maharishi crumbled on the floor - lifeless.

7.40

Maharishi found himself in Vaidya shala - the congregation hospital when he woke up. Maitrea was sitting by his bed holding his hand and two disciples were rubbing his feet. Outside, entire congregation, was praying for his life. As he opened his eyes, Vaidya Raj (the doctor in-charge) offered him some milk - you are back from near death. Thankfully Maitrea was sitting outside your room as he saw you taking into the Samadhi (trance).

Maharish looked at Maitrea - with love and gratitude in his eyes. The night played in front of his eyes. He asked Maitrea

If a river flows through your land, do you have right to stop the flow and keep entire water to yourself? - and he smiled!

Maitrea once again understood, Maharishi wanted a coin toss. A validation for his thought. He said - Maharish you only taught us water and fire can not be bound to a vessel for the potency is in the flow.

Maharishi found his answer. Life must flow. He drank the milk and stood up. It was time for the procession. He excused himself and asked everyone to continue with their day - I shall rest in my room before I see you for morning prayers.

Sometimes resolutions show up out of thin air. It was one such moment. Maharishi saw a small wand lying below the statue of his father as he stepped into his room. He picked up the wand. He saw name of his father inscribed near the handle. He turned it over to see other side of the handle. It was inscribed "Present". Curious - he looked at the tip. He felt as if he lost sense of all past. He forgot all plans of the future. His focus came to the present. This moment .. nothing else! All his actions fully engaged - something must be done - action must be taken now.

He closed his eyes before he got himself locked in the present forever! And kept the wand aside. He understood it was his path to perpetuate. It was an exit not only for himself, but also hundreds of Rakshas he killed. He must invoke the power (Sakti) to undo all the bondages and let the life flow - once again!

A plethora of action items shaped up in Maharishi's mind. The first obvious task was to determine the perfect planetary alignment to bring a worthy heir to life. A time must be determined to enable the universe find a writer who could reap truth just the way paddy sowed at right time bears rice. The world might know him as his son, but he would be the son of knowledge. He would translate his ideas into text. He would mark the exact center where evil meets the good and both play a perfect dance of life. A balance to ride the waves of joy and grief. Something that could show the path to peace, to a disoriented society. And pull them from both excessive darkness and excessive light. An island in the river of time, between two banks that never seem to meet each other — Dvaipayana — born on an island!

7.5

Maharishi arrived at Ugrasen's main door little after noon. King was finishing his daily rituals as he saw Maharishi step in. He was pleased to see rare smile on Maharishi's face. After exchanging pleasantries they sat down in respective chairs.

Maharishi thanked the king for the statue. And also asked for more favor - Maharaj you know there is a haunted island in Yamuna across our Ashrama. I am here to seek permission to do penance on the island - undisturbed.

You don't need my permission for that Maharishi. From this day on, the island belongs to congregation - king said in a decisive tone that reflected inner resolve of Maharishi

In Sanskrit such an action is called Nishchyatmak - beyond doubts. The intent of the action represents the resolve - Nishchaya.

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