The disciple entered and found the Master cleaning the room. A little embarrassed, he rushed forward and offered help, “Oh, Master, please let me do this.”
The Master smiled while continuing to clean, “But this is nothing compared to the cleaning that I do every day in countless rooms of each one.”
A little quizzically, the disciple stood wondering at the deep import of the Master’s words. By now the work at hand was over. The Master gently kept the cleaning cloth aside, neatly folded as if it was his way of expressing love and gratitude towards the little objects that served him. How much care he bestowed on everyone and everything, men and physical objects, animals and plants and who knows the gods and demons alike as if He saw the indivisible unity of all things. There was nothing big or small in his eyes, nothing trivial and merely mundane.
By now the disciples had gathered around him returning from their respective workplaces. Just as cows return home from their pasture, these souls had flocked around the Master for the deeper nourishment of their famished souls.
As the Master settled in his chair, the disciple prompted, “Master, you were speaking about cleaning the rooms.”
With a faint smile curved upon his beautiful lips, the Master responded: “Oh, that! Men spend so much time and energy in procuring food and lodging for their bodies but do very little for nourishing their souls or cleaning the house in which their soul dwells.”
A brief pause followed. And the Master added: “All the values here are in an inverse order as if this world were an inverted image of God.”
“What house is this that you speak of Master, pray enlighten us?” asked one as if asking the obvious.
The Master said, “This bodily house in which the soul dwells.”
“But is not everyone busy taking care of this bodily house all the time,” asked another.
“Do we?” The Master countered. “We do not take care of this bodily house in which the soul dwells. We rather spoil it through excess preoccupations, anxiety and fear on one hand and through excess of thrill, pleasure and comfort on the other. You see this house is not built by matter alone. Nature has tried and tested a million forms over millions of years before she could build this form in which the gods consented to dwell and through which we could once again discover God.”
“Oh yes, there is that story in one of the Upanishads that speaks of the gods consenting to enter the human body. But we thought it is just a fable.” One among them wondered.
“Not just a fable but a deep psycho-spiritual truth. The gods are powers and aspects of the Divine. Their willingness to enter the human body means that they are willing and ready to express their powers and forces through this bodily instrument and to fashion it towards a higher perfection.” The Master responded. And then, a little pensively observed, “How soon do we spoil this wonderful instrument through wrong habits, wrong indulgences, wrong suggestions, through excesses and immoderations of every kind, through wrong thoughts, wrong feelings, wrong impulses, and wrong will.”
One with a traditional background asked, “By wrong, you mean moral sins, isn’t it Master?”
The Master answered, a little to their astonishment, “No, for one can be moral and follow all the rules of living and yet he may not care for his house.”
“What does that mean, Master?” The discipline looked surprised. “If one leads a totally controlled and regulated bodily life and does not allow the body any form of immoral appetites, then is that not enough?”
“No, my child, it is not enough, for still he may live for the ego and the house may be given for the purposes of his selfish motives and not for the soul to dwell in it.” Spoke the Master who had seen through the dualities of nature as well as the unity behind all things.
Then after a pause, he added revealing new horizons of thought and sight, “As I said this body is not built by matter alone. And what is matter itself but a condensation of the spirit. We are all made of a spiritual substance. The flesh is nothing else but Spirit concretized.” The Master kept quiet for a moment while the disciples pondered, so accustomed were they to the idea of Spirit and matter as being opposed and antagonistic. Did they hear the Master right?
“We don’t quite understand!” exclaimed one, while the other demurred “We always thought that the body was a trap and a deceit, a useless garment that must be discarded as soon as possible like a worn-out cloth setting the spirit free!”
“Oh, this concept has done so much harm to this country and has weakened our hold on material realities. But this is a misreading of the ancient scriptures. After all, why would the Spirit create this or any other world at all if it had no purpose save a trap? And if it is really so, then one has to agree that it is not some All-wise spirit but an insane mind that created this world. But this is not true. The Upanishads boldly declare that the Spirit chose to enter into these countless worlds after it created them and chose to dwell within the human body.” The Master was in a mood to reveal truths unheard.
He continued, adding revelation upon revelation, “Yes, it is the Spirit that has become Matter and then entered into it and these countless worlds through many steps and each of its step is a world in its own right. Now, in return matter is trying to rediscover or become the Spirit and climbs through all the intermediary steps and their worlds whose influence kneads matter. This body itself is built not only by pure matter as you know it but also by an influence from life-worlds and mind-worlds and is now being moulded and prepared under the pressure of the spirit-world.”
One trying to grasp the subtlety of the truth asked, “Is that why our thoughts, impulses and feelings have an effect upon the body?”
“Yes, indeed,” the Master looked happy. “If our thoughts are ugly and unclean, our feelings narrow and turbulent, our will small and tied to petty gains and selfish aims, then the house of the soul becomes a thing small and dark, with little space or fresh air, with not enough sunlight, like a dingy and dusty corner full of the smoke of desires and passions, full of the fumes of anger and jealousy and hatred.”
“I see now, what you meant when you said that men spend a lifetime to build a house of mud but take little care of this bodily house. Perhaps that is why we remain so unhappy even in a palace.”
“Yes,” the Master’s face beamed again. “The joy, the delight one experiences is directly linked to the psychological space of your inner dwelling. If it is small and narrow, full of dust and smoke then one is perpetually restless and unhappy, stifled by the smoke. Naturally, gods do not like to dwell in such an atmosphere. They depart one by one leaving the house at ransom for dark and evil forces that are always waiting.”
“And what about the soul?” asked one.
“The soul silently witnesses and endures waiting for nature to be ready as it must one day, or else remains asleep, unable to express its beauty and goodness and light and truth in that stifling atmosphere. Till it too chooses to depart.” The Master paused: “This is the inner tragedy to be the world’s king but abandoned by one’s soul. But men run after worldly success and if they fail they think it is a tragedy though often worldly misfortune is a great blessing.”
“A blessing, but how?” asked someone.
“For through it, men can once again turn to their soul for support. When tragedy strikes and the charm of outer things is lost, then we have a chance to awaken to the inner realities.”
“But we always thought that success and a rich, comfortable life, free of failure is a gift from God, a reward of good deeds,” asked one steeped in traditions.
“That is why I said that this world is an inverse image of Truth and all its values are turned upside down.” The Master observed again and plunged into a deep Silence that brooded always in his atmosphere. And as he thus plunged, a hope arose in the hearts of those gathered around him. One voiced it, inversely again “How can this inversion be set right, Master, or is it always meant to be so?”
The Master lifted his compassionate gaze and looking as if far-off to some future dawn awaiting its hour guarded by the folds of darkness softly replied, “We shall leave this for some other time…”
