When I sit in the morning outside on the deck of my boat,before the majestic purple of the mountains crowned with the morning light,I know that I am eternal that I am ananda-rupam.
My true form is not that of flesh and blood,but of joy.In the world where we habitually live,the self is so predominant that everything in it is of our own making and we starve because we have to feed upon ourselves. To know the truth is to become true;there is no other way.When we live the life of self,it is not possible for us to realize truth.
“Come out,come away.” This is the urgent cry we have in our soul-the cry in the blood of the chick,living in its shell.
These lines are from the book “Letters to Friend” by Rabindranath Tagore from page no 71 when he was in Srinagar Kashmir(October 1915).I don’t have any words or story to take a dig ,just a prevailing silence and willing to share with the readers.
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