THE SONG AT HEATHROW AIRPORT
Tremendous among the tremendous milestones of Sahaj history was the great hanuman Puja at Margate (Ma gate), South England, on 23 April, birthday of William Shakespeare and day of Saint George, patron of England! As I sit in Healthrow airport to put on paper some of my recollections, I deeply feel the inadequacy of words, of any form of human expression to render the effects of joy’s swelling spring, “bliss casualty” and vibration blast that comes with the experience.
When they say reality goes beyond fiction, what can we say about Reality? It goes beyond dreams and desire: the best we wish for ourselves is nothing compared to the best that the Adi Shakti wishes for Her children. Born in a drop, we felt that the highest we might possibly achieve is the pond: we don’t even dare the lake . But She, the Ishawari, smiles, with eyes radiating timeless love, and what She pours for us is the Ocean.
From that all encompassing, omniscient glance, the snow of Kailash is melting in the river of love, the water of Vaikuntha purifies us through recognition of the truth of Her Divinity.
From beyond the walls of time, as She graciously danced to create the primordial sound, Her glance captured us all, already there, as we are now, drinking Chaitanya, kneeling knights and laughing lions, children born in shyness to their own divinity, pilgrims and virgin princesses who were true enough to their pure desire that they may now see their God face to face. And the beaming of Her children’s faces, as they stand before Her, through precious tears of adoration, manifest the rainbow response of angelic love.
The glance that was cast on Shri Hanuman in Lanka’s s Ashoka Gardens: the glance that received the High Angel Gabriel in Nazareth; the glance of the the primordial Goddess blessed the kundalinisof six hundred yogis and yoginis prostrated before Her at the end of the puja. And because She so willed and desired, this glance covered us with the faultless Kavach, the armour of invisible diamonds that was ever yearned for by the first lords of the gone by Golden Age.
What shall I write?