Philosophy of Religion

# In Solitary Depths: 46 <p>আপনি কি জানেন, সে যে আমাদের কাছে আসে, তার পায়ে বাজে সুরের ঘণ্টা? তার চোখে স্ফুলিঙ্গ, তার হাতে অগ্নি। আমরা তার আলোয় ভরসা করি, তার তাপে আত্মা উষ্ণ করি। কিন্তু সেই আলোর পেছনে কোথাও একটি অন্ধকার লুকিয়ে আছে—তার নিজের অন্ধকার, যা সে কখনো স্বীকার করবে না।</p> <p>Do you know that when he comes to us, bells chime beneath his feet? Lightning dwells in his eyes, flame in his hands. We trust his light, we warm our souls against his heat. Yet somewhere behind that light lurks a darkness—his own darkness, which he shall never confess.</p> <p>এই পৃথিবীতে দুটো জিনিস অজেয়। একটি হল বিশ্বাস যা মানুষ অন্যের মুখে দেখতে চায়। অন্যটি হল সত্য যা মানুষ নিজের ভিতরে লুকিয়ে রাখে। এই দুটোর যুদ্ধেই আমাদের জীবন কাটে।</p> <p>Two things in this world are invincible. One is the faith that people wish to see in another's face. The other is the truth that people conceal within themselves. Our lives are spent in the war between these two.</p> <p>তাকে খুব কাছ থেকে দেখবেন না। দূর থেকে তার ছায়া পূজা করা ভালো। কাছে এলে শুধু মানুষ পাবেন—ভাঙা, দুর্বল, ভয়ার্ত মানুষ। আর সেটাই সবচেয়ে বিপজ্জনক জ্ঞান।</p> <p>Do not look too closely at him. Better to worship his shadow from afar. Draw near and you shall find only a human—fractured, feeble, afraid. And that is the most dangerous knowledge of all.</p>




226.

"I"—this alone is your capital. Rest in it; nothing else is required. The Guru always presents his teaching simply, transparently, and fundamentally. His words are utterly plain: "The only thing you possess is—'I.'" "This 'I' is your capital; this much suffices." This sense of 'I' has come to you without effort, spontaneously, awakening within a body-consciousness: "I am."

The Guru says—this single awareness is your natural inheritance. Hold it, understand it, dwell in it.

Why? Because if you can truly remain fixed in 'I', everything else will come of itself. There comes a time when this 'I' itself becomes gracious toward you, and then it loosens its own bonds. For most of life we depend on the external world—experience, knowledge, wealth, relationships, memory—but the Guru says: "These are not your true capital. True capital is the feeling: 'I am.'"

Knowledge of this 'I' is not something acquired; it has come with you naturally, and therefore it is the most fundamental and true element. To dwell in 'I' means to detach from everything else, and to remain conscious and silent in this present awareness.

With time, this 'I' transcends its own identity and limitations, and you too arrive at the supreme, where there is no experience, no question—only the nameless, formless Self.

The sense of 'I' alone is your sole capital, which is your own and self-evident. Meditate on this 'I', dwell in it—nothing else is needed. This very awareness, in time, breaks its own bonds, and you arrive at your true liberated state. The Guru is saying: "There is nothing to understand, nothing to do—simply remain in 'I'; that is enough."

227.

'I' is close to reality, yet not reality itself. The feeling 'I am', though very near to reality, is not the ultimate truth. You might think of 'I' as the final camp just below the mountain peak—reaching it means you have almost summited, yet the last step remains.

If you can remain established in this 'I', what is called the 'Turiya' state—then you have come very near to reality indeed. Yet still, the Guru says—"Whatever stands even the slightest distance from the supreme is not real—it is unreal, false, changeable."

This 'I' too must be recognized as unreal or as incomplete reality, because it still carries the shadow of duality—"I am," "I perceive," and so on. The true purpose of this 'I' is to vanish itself, to dissolve into the supreme, as a drop merges into the ocean.

Then 'I' no longer exists, nor any perception—there remains only 'Parabrahman'—silent, undefinable, the non-dual truth. 'I' is the final identity of consciousness—the last step of self-remembering, yet it too is a perceivable object, and therefore "other," that is, outside the supreme. So though 'I' is close to reality, it is not reality itself, for reality means—that which depends on nothing else.

'I' arises, is felt, then fades away—this coming and going itself proves it is changeable, and therefore unreal. Ultimate liberation comes only when 'I' too dissolves, and you rest in that consciousness which exists by itself alone, infinite, unchanging, and eternal.

The sense of 'I' is the last frontier of truth—but not yet the supreme. For the supreme is where nothing arises, nothing vanishes. 'I' comes and goes, and therefore it is unreal or a provisional truth. Liberation is when 'I' too is not; only the supreme Self remains.

228.

All practice begins from 'I'—and therefore all is temporal illusion. Whatever you do—whether daily tasks or meditation, prayer, yoga, or any practice—all of it happens through this sense of 'I'.

# Translation

This ‘I’ is the point of origin for all activity, because without the consciousness of this ‘I’, you could neither know nor do anything.

Yet the guru says—this very ‘I’ is itself an illusion, one that begins with time and will one day come to an end. Since all action and practice occur within this ‘I’, everything is constituted in duality, bound to time and impermanence—therefore, they are not eternal truths, but rather relative illusions.

And yet—this ‘I’ is the closest position to absolute reality. For this reason the guru says: “Understand this ‘I’, dwell within it, for therein lies the only path to reach the ultimate.” All practice, yoga, worship, action—all begin only after the sense of ‘I’ awakens. In other words, no experience connected to consciousness is possible without the ‘I’.

But this ‘I’ is changeable, it rises and vanishes—therefore it too is false, bound by time and relative. So whatever practice or yoga occurs within this illusion cannot touch the soul’s reality, unless you transcend this ‘I’ itself.

Though the ‘I’ is an illusion, it remains the threshold closest to absolute truth. Just as imagination’s boundary touches silence—so too is this ‘I’ the final frontier, from which you can leap into the absolute. All yoga and practice occur within the ‘I’. But this very ‘I’ is an illusion, which begins with time and one day ends.

Therefore practice and action are dual, time-bound, relative. They are not real, because they do not touch supreme consciousness. Yet the ‘I’ can be called the nearest bridge—understood rightly, dwelling within it correctly, you can reach the non-dual, timeless absolute.

229.

The first step is the ‘I’—the final step is to pass through supreme consciousness and unconsciousness both, and dissolve silently. The first step on the path to liberation is to dwell within the ‘I’. But dwelling in this ‘I’ does not mean merely thinking about it; rather—it means casting off the sense of body entirely, and learning to see this ‘I’ in its wordless, pure form.

When you learn to dwell within this ‘I’ deeply and steadily enough, gradually the ‘I’ itself will begin to disappear. And in that very moment you will pass beyond—consciousness (the ‘I’ or ‘I am’), and unconsciousness (the ‘I am not’ or the state of sleep)—transcending both, you will dissolve into your true nature—the absolute, the supreme Brahman, which is permanent, not transient, non-dual, unthinkable.

In Vedantic understanding, the path to liberation is a progressive inquiry, step by step. The first and fundamental level of this inquiry is to realize and dwell in the sense of the ‘I’. To experience this ‘I’ in its wordless, identity-less state is precisely the state of ‘Turiya’—consciousness which stands behind waking, dream, and sleep.

Prolonged abiding at this level eventually causes the complete dissolution of the ‘I’. After this you enter into a strange state where there is neither ‘I’ nor ‘I am not’, neither consciousness nor unconsciousness—there exists only the silent, permanent presence of supreme reality itself.

First step: Understanding the knowledge of the ‘I’. Second step: Transcending the sense of body and dwelling in the ‘I’. Third step: Entering into the depths of the ‘I’ and transcending both consciousness and unconsciousness. Final state: Dwelling in the absolute—where there is no ‘I’, no consciousness, no experience—only the permanent, self-established supreme Brahman.

230.

“You yourself are Brahman”—the final call, recognize yourself. All this while the guru has been teaching you—know the sense of ‘I’, understand it, dwell within it, then transcend even that. Now he no longer takes refuge in metaphor or method. He points his finger directly at you and says: “This very one that you are—you yourself are Brahman! You are that ultimate reality which stands even behind the sense of ‘I’.”

As if a final awakening’s call: “How much more shall I tell you? Now recognize yourself! What I wish—you are that, and become that!”

The guru says: “Meditate upon these words, hold them in remembrance—you yourself are Brahman. But remember, one day even this thought will fall away.

Then there will be no ‘you’, no ‘I’—only ‘you as you are’.”

At the initial stages of practice, the guru says—know the ‘I’, understand it, meditate upon it. Then he says—transcend even the ‘I’, for that too is bound by time, experiential, illusory in nature. And now he is saying—”What you seek, you yourself are. You are the Brahman, you were never the ‘I’, you were never the seeker or the one searching.”

Now practice is not needed, devotion is not needed, experience is not needed—remembrance and awakening alone suffice. Meditate: “I am Brahman,” until this very thought dissolves of its own—then you become your true form. You exist before the ‘I’, behind consciousness itself, beyond experience.

You are Brahman—this knowing is the final teaching. It is like one last call—where the guru teaches nothing more, but says instead: “Become what you are. And let even this thought of ‘becoming’ fall away.”

231.

The ‘I’ is merely a horizon—understand it, transcend it, and become that sun. The guru explains with a remarkably simple metaphor—you watch the sunrise and sunset every day on the horizon line. But does a horizon truly exist? Have you ever managed to reach it?

The ‘horizon’ is only an optical illusion. The sun never says—”I have risen” or “I have set”—it is you, the observer, from your position and your limitations, who creates this false impression of rising and falling. Similarly, the emergence (birth) and dissolution (death) of the ‘I’ are merely appearances—like the sun seen on the horizon line.

The true you, the one witnessing the coming and going of this ‘I’, is the sun-like supreme consciousness—that which eternally shines, remains awake, stands immutable. Through this metaphor, the guru wishes to convey—first understand the ‘I’, then abide in it—this is practice; then transcend even that, and realize—you were never the ‘I’, you are that sun, which exists only in its own light, irresistible and unchanging.

The rising and setting of the ‘I’ means the experience of birth and death. But both these events are false visions occurring on consciousness’s horizon. Like the sun, the soul neither rises nor sets; the experience of the ‘I’ emerging above consciousness is merely a reflection of perspective and position. The guru says here: “With this metaphor, I simplify as much as I can—I speak as simply as I am able—understand the ‘I’, be steady in it, then release it—become that ‘Brahman’ which you are.”

This alone is enough. Nothing more to do, nothing more to say, nothing more to think.

The rising and setting of the ‘I’ is not truly real—merely an illusion of perspective. If you identify yourself as the ‘I’, you confine yourself to a transient horizon. But if you understand—the ‘I’ too is merely an object of meditation—which dissolves into itself through meditation, gradually, until one day it vanishes entirely—then you arrive at that sun-like absolute, which never rises, never sets, simply endures.

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