Nothing can be as simple and yet as complex as a perception. Instead of wisdom and intuitive insight, one's perception is often based on desires, motivated by greed and dominated by affluence. The drudgery of a preformatted life; based solely on hope and in anticipation of events, either imaginary or experienced by others, occurring in a certain order; forms hardened notions so deeply ingrained in one's psyche that repeated smashing of the person against reality becomes inevitable.
I've been stabbed in the back by the best of friends; I've seen the happiest of times become the source of my gravest pain; I've discovered wisdom where it was least expected; and I've found solace in the lap of my darkest fear. Therefore, I find it prudent not to be too rigid about anything.
My father spent most of his hard-earned money, which could have bought him a lot of much needed things, on friends and relatives, who should have prevented him from getting sucked into a whirlpool of anguish but didn't, and deprived himself of basic things like medicines, which do cure a lot of diseases, and means to maintain a respectable place, which he deserved, in society. Misery, for him, was like a multi-tentacled beast stuck to his side and it was going to be there until all of its tentacles are chopped off simultaneously. Financial difficulties could never ruffle his feathers, disrespect by lowly relatives was too menial to even grab his attention, illness was never too difficult to conquer; but all of them together were too much even for a man of his stature.
At the time, I was an expert at creating problems, not solving them. I soon realized that a few kicks and punches can send the bad guys out of whack, but that can't fix the damage already done. Initially driven by arrogance and later out of desperation, I virtually wrote a book on how to fail at everything.
Despite having a childhood full of divine experiences, I didn't particularly grow up to be a religious person. I wasn't an atheist but I definitely wasn't someone who would run towards a temple each time I bumped my toe against something (I still don't). I didn't even consider the possibility of a spiritual solution until the day I came across the story of a family whose sole breadwinner was on his deathbed and their continuous chanting of a mantra of goddess Durga for 24 hours straight miraculously saved him.
Twenty four? I'll do forty eight, I thought.
The primary objective of any spiritual practice is to focus every bit of energy that can be harnessed on a single thought with all intensity. Faith in the deity, focus on the goal and a strong sense of responsibility with a lot of enthusiasm makes it all possible.
Battling adaptive barrages of multitude of hideous thoughts, skirting shifting pains and numbness, resisting the temptation to give up; as I inched forward for the first few hours of my 48 hour stint, I realized a massive buildup of an opposing force within me. Chaotic and tumultuous, my mind, though highly receptive and immune to modern day vulnerabilities, is an instinctive wanderer. I've always known my affinity for the dark, I've overstepped my bounds more than I can remember; but, whatever was growing inside of me was beyond the darkness I had experienced before.
Those who are not afraid of the storm, eventually learn to sail right through it. The newfound serenity encouraged my mind to glide towards the new possibilities at the uncharted domain of a different state of consciousness. The soft, tingling vibrations created by the slow, almost inaudible humming of the mantra were randomly traversing different parts of my body. Sometimes, they would reach the base of my spine and send a very enjoyable, sort of chilling shivers upwards towards my brain. Therefore, I diverted all my senses in that direction. A sudden, overwhelming surge of energy bolstered my confidence. Imagining my triumph, savoring the idea of things I would be able to do, I was like a hawk who had just discovered the art of soaring the limitless skies.
Suddenly, everything good came crashing to a halt. A sharp, piercing pain engulfed my senses and, like a wildfire, spread to every cell of my body. I couldn't breathe, I was unable to move and my attempts to open my eyes failed. Even my heart skipped a few beats. I felt as if I was being pulled deeper into an abyss. Gasping for air, I frantically struggled to break free of whatever I had gotten into. Soon, it dawned on me that the force I was up against was much too strong. Even if it was death, I reached out, like a warrior with a sense of honor, to accept it wholeheartedly.
Whatever it was, it was subtle; beyond definition and impossible to express. Wherever I was, if it was a place at all, it was featureless, timeless and beyond my senses. I was afloat, tumbling uncontrollably; and yet, it seemed like I hadn't moved for an eternity. I was everywhere simultaneously and yet, I was nowhere. I don't know who or what I was there, but I was certainly not the one who I used to think I was. I had no beginning and no end. It must have been my existence, if that word really means anything, as a soul.
It was futile to think about time. The past, the present and the future were all there. If there existed anything remotely resembling a desire and if I had it to know, I would have known whatever there had been, whatever there was and whatever there was going to be.
One yet many; the moment I let go of my inhibitions, the moment I accepted all aspects of my existence irrespective of worldly norms, I became the collective consciousness of everything.
When it was time to return, I was back.
I kept going and completed the ritual. My energy level increased considerably as did my confidence. I was pleasantly surprised when the situation started mending itself a few days later. My father recovered. One astrologer, who knew nothing about my ritual, even claimed that I had somehow extended my father's life by a decade.
I returned to the way of life I was born to follow and discovered a whole new universe of possibilities.
