Pathways of Becoming: A Journey from Illusion to Truth”
Lead me to the Real
From the unreal lead me to the Real,
From darkness lead me to Light,
From death lead me to Immortality.
From the unreal, lead me to the Real—this timeless prayer resounds through the corridors of human consciousness, echoing the ancient desire to peel away illusions and touch the eternal truth. We often live in a world veiled by appearances, misled by fleeting pleasures, half-truths, and fabricated identities. The "unreal" isn't just falsehood—it is the confusion that arises when we mistake the temporary for the permanent, the ego for the self, and noise for meaning. This first invocation is not a cry of despair, but a yearning to awaken—to rise from the dream of separation and discover the indivisible essence beneath the masks we wear.
From darkness, lead me
to Light. Darkness is not merely the absence of light; it is also ignorance,
fear, and unawareness of the greater design in which we exist. It is the mental
fog that clouds judgment, the emotional pain that binds the heart, and the
spiritual amnesia that disconnects us from our source. Yet light is always
present, waiting to be unveiled. This light is not physical but the radiance of
clarity, love, and understanding. To be led into the light is to step into
awareness, to reclaim the power of conscious choice, and to walk a path where
truth no longer hides behind shadows.
From death, lead me to Immortality—not in the sense of defying physical death, but in transcending the fear of it. Death, as we often perceive it, is the end. But immortality lies in realizing that what we are, in essence, does not die. The body decays, the mind changes, but the spirit remains untouched. To live in awareness of this eternal core is to be liberated while alive. It is to engage with life from a place of wholeness rather than desperation. This prayer becomes a gentle but powerful rebellion against the tyranny of mortality, urging us to remember our true nature.
Each of these pleas
represents a step in the soul’s journey. They do not demand external miracles;
rather, they are inner movements of surrender and seeking. The Real is not
another place—it is a deeper recognition of what already is. The Light does not
arrive from a distant star; it is uncovered when we clear the dust from the
mirror of our perception. Immortality does not need to be achieved; it is
already present, waiting for remembrance. The guidance we seek is not from
outside but from the still voice within—the whisper of the divine echoing
through the silence of our hearts.
In practical life,
these lines are more than poetic aspirations—they are guiding principles. When
overwhelmed by anxiety, we can pause and recall the Real: the present moment,
the breath, the awareness that watches our thoughts. When drowned in confusion
or emotional turmoil, we can choose the Light—truthful words, compassionate
actions, and honest self-reflection. And when paralyzed by loss or change, we
can recall Immortality—not as denial, but as the deep knowing that love,
essence, and consciousness do not die.
This prayer is found in the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, one of the oldest and most profound texts of ancient India. Yet its voice is timeless. It speaks to every seeker across centuries and cultures. It does not belong to any one religion—it belongs to the human spirit. These words are less a request and more a roadmap: a direction for the soul, a mantra for the mind, and a compass for the heart. In repeating them, we do not beg—we align ourselves with the path of inner evolution.
To walk this path is
not to escape the world but to see it clearly. The Real, the Light, and
Immortality are not separate destinations—they are the threads that weave
meaning into existence. In seeking them, we are not denying life; we are
deepening it. This is the prayer of awakening. This is the promise of becoming.
And with every sincere utterance of these lines, we are already being led.
Celebration in Devotion: A Guru
Purnima Reflection”
Once, a Zen teacher—confident in his enlightenment—approached his Master. The Master offered him a single koan: “The statue has eyes, and the tears roll down silently.” The teacher was shaken to his core. What were these tears? Not of pain or joy, but of pure devotion —the silent weeping of the soul touched by grace. These tears don’t fall from suffering, but from surrender. They are the soul’s offering in its deepest recognition of the Divine.
A seeker often comes
to the Guru with tears—confused, broken, longing. And yet, when he departs,
there are tears again—this time transformed. Salty tears become sweet , heavy
hearts become light, and sorrow becomes sacred. Once someone has cried in love
for the Divine, they know this rare taste of surrender. It is not bitterness,
but nectar. The entire cosmos longs for
such a tear , for it marks the moment when illusion dissolves, and the soul
bows in humility.
Guru Purnima is often
celebrated as the day of the Master. But more truly, it is the day of the devotee —the one who has tasted the nectar of
grace and awakened to inner transformation. This day is a mirror, where the
seeker reflects not just on the Guru’s wisdom, but on the distance travelled within : the darkness left
behind, the Light embraced, the silence discovered. Gratitude flows not just
for teachings received, but for the love that never left their side.
There is a difference
between a student , a disciple , and a devotee The student seeks knowledge. The disciple
seeks realization. But the devotee seeks nothing. He simply **rejoices in
love**. He cares not whether enlightenment arrives or not, whether answers are
given or not. Just to sit at the feet of the Master, to feel the presence of
the Infinite, is enough. Love becomes
the path, the destination, and the reward
This is why devotion
is rare. Students are many. Disciples
are few. Devotees are rarest Sariputra,
one of Buddha’s enlightened disciples, wept when told to leave and spread the
Dharma. When asked why, he said, “Enlightenment could have waited. I miss the
joy of being at the Master’s feet.” Such is the sweetness of surrender— where
even liberation pales next to love . The presence of the Guru, of God, becomes
life’s deepest blessing.
Even the Divine is
moved by such devotion. As Krishna prepared to leave his body, he told Uddhav, “Tell my devotees—only they can free me from
their love. I am not in heaven or in temples. I am where they sing my name.” The
Divine does not dwell in form or ritual alone—it lives where love flows , where hearts open in
simplicity. The Infinite doesn’t only receive your longing—it longs for you in
return.
This Guru Purnima, let
us celebrate not just the Guru, but the
heart that knows how to love . When devotion blossoms, the world becomes
sacred. Words become prayers. Eyes see beauty in all. The Divine doesn’t just
visit—it begins to speak through you, walk with you, weep and laugh through
you. That is the miracle of devotion. And in that miracle, both the seeker and the
Infinite are fulfilled.
IF HE EXIST
I drive joy there was a doctor in Benaras who
spent 7 minutes in the morning and evening for mediation on God. Knowing this,
his colleagues and friends laughed at him. One day they argued that he was
wasting 7 precious minutes on something, which he had been misled into
believing. The doctor replied, “Well, if God does not exist, I agree that I am
wasting 7 minutes a day. But, if He exists? I am afraid you are wasting your
entire lifetime. I prefer to waste 7 minutes rather than a lifetime. Why should
you grudge me the 7minutes joy that I derive 4m.-
ILLUSTRATED REVIEW : 7thheaven moment of the week The 2025
Wimbledon Mixed Doubles Final was won by Sem Verbeek (Netherlands) and Kateřina Siniaková
(Czech Republic). 777 7–6^(7‑3), 7–6^(7‑3)
