When Yajnyawalkya stepped out of the hidden abode of Maitreyi, it was time for sunrise. A few steps ahead, he was joined by his son and Artabhaga. They were ready for the morning obeisance to the sun-god.
Artabhaga, for no obvious reason, found himself surrounded by deep peace as he stepped into Yajnyawalkya's personal aura. He felt assured that somewhere something had happened. Whatever it was, it filled him with a heavenly harmony. The world inside the hermitage was flowing sedately with an imperceptible motion, in opposition to the turbulent pace of the world marching onward outside the hermitage. But it was not stagnation, nor was it negation. It was the peace that gave you strength to move on at your own pace. Artabhaga watched Yajnyawalkya to gauge his state of mind. Yajnyawalkya looked more withdrawn than usual. While chanting Gayatri mantra, his voice faltered a little. Artabhaga wished he could lift the veil and see and feel what his voice concealed.
Yajnyawalkya's son tried to engage them in some childishly grave matters and finally gave up, leaving Artabhaga and Yajnyawalkya to themselves.
Yajnyawalkya addressed Artabhaga with a determined, thoughtful mind. "There are a number of questions that you and I have not asked each other yet. We have been witness to a major eventful portion of our lives; you have been an ascetic, and I, an ascetic surrounded by worldly obligations. When I look back, I remember how I was led to respond to Janaka's call. Janaka and I needed each other. Our instinct perhaps told us so. We were alike, though placed in totally dissimilar vocations. We were both disoriented, groping in the dark to find the meaning of our existence. We could traverse that stretch of our life to reach light because we had found each other.
Artabhaga reflected on Yajnyawalkya's revelation. They were resting under the ancient banyan tree which had now become an intimate silent listener for Artabhjaga ever since he came to this hermitage with Yajnyawalkya. He asked the tree, "Why is it that this man who was brought up here and set up this household under your shade, never bonded with you? Why, even now, as he is looking at his own life, does he not think of me as a soul bonded to him?"
He looked into the distance and smiled mystically. All that he said outwardly was, "There are times when we have to wander far in search of an intangible worth of life. You were fortunate to have found people who needed you on their journey."
Yajnyawalkya noticed a deep shadow of distress sweep across Artabhaga as he heard him. An intense clairvoyant intuition led him to listen to the inarticulate pain hidden behind Artabhaga's words.
Artabhaga was not sad. In fact, Yajnyawalkya never remembered this man giving way to self-pity. He remembered the Artabhaga of yore who had lacerated his soul in compassion for Shakalya and the ever vigilant, archetypal patience of Shakalya's ancient father. Artabhaga could never dissociate himself from the suffering humanity. What peace is there in this world for a man like him? And he was never at war with himself. One needs to be in love with one's own self to be able to love humanity in this way.
Yajnyawalkya lifted a fallen leaf of the banyan tree as if it was a missive from above. He felt its weather-worn texture and addressed Artabhaga meditatively : "Do you think I don't understand what you are feeling when you say this? You have seen people suffer, and you could never get over the feeling that you could do nothing to assuage their pain when they needed you. You ended up feeling that finally they did not need you when you were there to help. "
Artabhaga unknowingly snatched away the rough, thorny leaf out of Yajnyawalkya's hand to stop him from caressing it. Yajnyawalkya looked at him. They were saying a lot of things to each other which were not contained in their words.
Yajnyawalkya paused; then continued hesitantly, "I need your help and support in the mission I am contemplating for myself. "
Artabhaga stared at him in amazement. Yajnyawalkya said, "Of course, you are free to say no."
Artabhaga said, "You know, I worship you as my master. Whatever you may wish, I'll obey as a command.'
Yajnyawalkya said, "I want to entrust you with the responsibility of this hermitage. I cannot find a person more suitable than you for this mission. You have a stable mind. You can belong to this hermitage. "
Artabhaga was speechless. There was silence between them for some time. Yajnyawalkya understood Artabhaga's hesitation. He said, "I know, you have been a wanderer; nothing can hold you down. You are averse to fixity. But you are free to wander whenever you wish, because I know that your mind and heart will never stray away from you wherever you are."
Artabhaga looked inward. A born ascetic that he was, he listened to the voice of his soul. There was a fraction of uncertainty and doubt which did not let him respond quickly.
Yajnyawalkya said,"Do not be in doubt about my intention. I don't want to use you for a task which you may think I want to avoid carrying out myself. Far from it! The Almighty wants you to be here. "
Artabhaga said, "What makes you think I will ever doubt your intention? I doubt my own capability."
Yajnyawalkya said, "Trust the divinity within you, not my words! You and I are two sources of light, as far as we can reach, and to as many as possible."
Yajnyawalkya's message was percolating through Artabhaga's reserves of doubt and uncertainty to reach the core of receptivity that had never been opened up. It was as if Yajnyawalkya was pouring out his soul into him and saying : " You and I are not antithetical; we have synthesized our energies into one . That is how it was meant to be and that is how it will continue to be. "
To be contd.
Artabhaga, for no obvious reason, found himself surrounded by deep peace as he stepped into Yajnyawalkya's personal aura. He felt assured that somewhere something had happened. Whatever it was, it filled him with a heavenly harmony. The world inside the hermitage was flowing sedately with an imperceptible motion, in opposition to the turbulent pace of the world marching onward outside the hermitage. But it was not stagnation, nor was it negation. It was the peace that gave you strength to move on at your own pace. Artabhaga watched Yajnyawalkya to gauge his state of mind. Yajnyawalkya looked more withdrawn than usual. While chanting Gayatri mantra, his voice faltered a little. Artabhaga wished he could lift the veil and see and feel what his voice concealed.
Yajnyawalkya's son tried to engage them in some childishly grave matters and finally gave up, leaving Artabhaga and Yajnyawalkya to themselves.
Yajnyawalkya addressed Artabhaga with a determined, thoughtful mind. "There are a number of questions that you and I have not asked each other yet. We have been witness to a major eventful portion of our lives; you have been an ascetic, and I, an ascetic surrounded by worldly obligations. When I look back, I remember how I was led to respond to Janaka's call. Janaka and I needed each other. Our instinct perhaps told us so. We were alike, though placed in totally dissimilar vocations. We were both disoriented, groping in the dark to find the meaning of our existence. We could traverse that stretch of our life to reach light because we had found each other.
Artabhaga reflected on Yajnyawalkya's revelation. They were resting under the ancient banyan tree which had now become an intimate silent listener for Artabhjaga ever since he came to this hermitage with Yajnyawalkya. He asked the tree, "Why is it that this man who was brought up here and set up this household under your shade, never bonded with you? Why, even now, as he is looking at his own life, does he not think of me as a soul bonded to him?"
He looked into the distance and smiled mystically. All that he said outwardly was, "There are times when we have to wander far in search of an intangible worth of life. You were fortunate to have found people who needed you on their journey."
Yajnyawalkya noticed a deep shadow of distress sweep across Artabhaga as he heard him. An intense clairvoyant intuition led him to listen to the inarticulate pain hidden behind Artabhaga's words.
Artabhaga was not sad. In fact, Yajnyawalkya never remembered this man giving way to self-pity. He remembered the Artabhaga of yore who had lacerated his soul in compassion for Shakalya and the ever vigilant, archetypal patience of Shakalya's ancient father. Artabhaga could never dissociate himself from the suffering humanity. What peace is there in this world for a man like him? And he was never at war with himself. One needs to be in love with one's own self to be able to love humanity in this way.
Yajnyawalkya lifted a fallen leaf of the banyan tree as if it was a missive from above. He felt its weather-worn texture and addressed Artabhaga meditatively : "Do you think I don't understand what you are feeling when you say this? You have seen people suffer, and you could never get over the feeling that you could do nothing to assuage their pain when they needed you. You ended up feeling that finally they did not need you when you were there to help. "
Artabhaga unknowingly snatched away the rough, thorny leaf out of Yajnyawalkya's hand to stop him from caressing it. Yajnyawalkya looked at him. They were saying a lot of things to each other which were not contained in their words.
Yajnyawalkya paused; then continued hesitantly, "I need your help and support in the mission I am contemplating for myself. "
Artabhaga stared at him in amazement. Yajnyawalkya said, "Of course, you are free to say no."
Artabhaga said, "You know, I worship you as my master. Whatever you may wish, I'll obey as a command.'
Yajnyawalkya said, "I want to entrust you with the responsibility of this hermitage. I cannot find a person more suitable than you for this mission. You have a stable mind. You can belong to this hermitage. "
Artabhaga was speechless. There was silence between them for some time. Yajnyawalkya understood Artabhaga's hesitation. He said, "I know, you have been a wanderer; nothing can hold you down. You are averse to fixity. But you are free to wander whenever you wish, because I know that your mind and heart will never stray away from you wherever you are."
Artabhaga looked inward. A born ascetic that he was, he listened to the voice of his soul. There was a fraction of uncertainty and doubt which did not let him respond quickly.
Yajnyawalkya said,"Do not be in doubt about my intention. I don't want to use you for a task which you may think I want to avoid carrying out myself. Far from it! The Almighty wants you to be here. "
Artabhaga said, "What makes you think I will ever doubt your intention? I doubt my own capability."
Yajnyawalkya said, "Trust the divinity within you, not my words! You and I are two sources of light, as far as we can reach, and to as many as possible."
Yajnyawalkya's message was percolating through Artabhaga's reserves of doubt and uncertainty to reach the core of receptivity that had never been opened up. It was as if Yajnyawalkya was pouring out his soul into him and saying : " You and I are not antithetical; we have synthesized our energies into one . That is how it was meant to be and that is how it will continue to be. "
To be contd.
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