Varanasi Again – 8: The well of light

Ghats of Varanasi

I got up and I followed him, the Yogi with the matted locks, and blue throat. I followed him wordlessly, for words were not needed now, had ceased to exist, have any meaning. The Yogi had awakened my third eye, the aagya chakra which makes sight without eyes, and hearing without ears possible. My forehead throbbed, between the eyes. My body felt light, ethereal, luminescent almost, just like his.

And then he turned to look at me, and his face was my face, and mine was his.

Shivoham’ he said, but his lips did not move. ‘Shivoham’ I intoned without speaking.

He turned and resumed his walk up the steps, as I did mine. Now I could see the world with new eyes, the one that the Yogi had given me. I was no more the participant in this worldly charade, I was the observer, watching from a distance. I watched from above and I saw two luminous apparitions walking up the steps of the Lalita ghat, while another dark form huddled some way down, where I had initially sat. It was the asat, the untruth, the ephemeral, the transient, the inanimate matter made up of the five elements, made of the star dust born in the Hiranyagarbh, the Big Bang. It will not last, it will return to dust, to its elements. But the consciousness which animates it, which breathes life in the inanimate, will last forever, even after the creation which it has spawned, ends.

The two apparitions walked towards the ancient pilgrimage site, the Vishveshwar jyotirlinga, and then turned towards the Gyanvapi, the well of wisdom, which lies near the temple. On and on towards the well the duo went. The well was luminous too….luminous with knowledge. As the observer watched, the two orbs of light descended into the well, and were absorbed into its luminosity, becoming one, becoming whole.

The observed were gone, the observer remained, watching over the universe, united with the supreme consciousness….

Shivoham – I am Shiva.

Amazon Bestsellers from the author –

The Battle of Panchavati and Other Stories from Indian Scriptures

Daffodils: A Bouquet of Short Stories

By Divya Narain

Additional Professor in Plastic Surgery, doting father, loving husband, newbie author. Love travel and literature. Love reading religion, politics and history!

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