The Inner Path: 8

Voice 1 (raising a question hesitantly): This body, this mind, this world—they stand right before my eyes...so tell me—is the Self all there is, and everything else mere trifle?
Voice 2 (with unwavering firmness): Not trifle, but shadow. The world is like a dream painted in watercolours, which dissolves the moment it touches water. The Self is that paper—upon which all things are drawn, yet which remains imperishable.
Voice 1 (in wonder): Then what of the suffering I feel, the humiliation, the fear—what is that?
Voice 2 (slowly, in tones drenched with compassion that pierces sorrow): That is your own misunderstanding—when you believe yourself to be body, to be mind, only then does the world gain power over you. But the Self? It never weeps, it never fails.
Voice 1 (with a tremor of realization): Is the Self then joy, security, glory?
(Voice 2): The Self is nothing but itself—neither dependent, nor reliant, nor comparable. It is never emptied, for it is eternally complete.

Both together (in the rhythm of silence—in philosophical steadiness, in profound resonance): The world is fleeting, the Self is eternal. The world is form, the Self is light. The world is change, the Self is stillness. One is shadow, the other is sky. I am the Self—unchanging, indestructible, singular. This body, this world—all are mere sketches drawn by illusion. There is no comparison between shadow and Self; the brilliance of light never mingles with shadow. The Self alone is glory, all else is imagination—erased even before destruction. 

Voice 1 (slowly raising another question): Everything has a name, every experience has a form...but you say—are name and form all illusion?
Voice 2 (a voice spoken from the depths of silence): Name and form mean limitation. What is limited is not true. Whatever can be spoken, grasped, known—all is changeable shadow. Brahman has no name. He is bound by no form—therefore He is all forms.
Voice 1 (in astonishment): Then are the words 'I', 'you', 'Self', 'Brahman'—are these too deception?
(Voice 2): Yes...these words are only the path, not the destination. The word 'Brahman' is not Brahman—He cannot be spoken of, cannot be thought.
Voice 1 (slowly coming to understanding): Then is bliss only in the nameless state? Are we exhausted only from chasing after form?
Voice 2 (in quiet laughter): Where there is no name, no form, there is no fear, no hope—there is only you. Your true identity is this—you are eternally nameless, eternally formless consciousness.

Both together (in mingled voices, becoming a song of silence—in rhythm wrapped in profound shadow): Not in form, not on the tongue, not in thought—what I am is undivided, formless, indescribable. What cannot be spoken—that alone is truth. Name means limit, form means division. Where there is no name, the path to liberation opens. What I am—it has no language, no colour, no line. I am indescribable, therefore I am eternal.