The Perfect Bliss
The moment I say, ‘This is my body’,
I realize that my body is not Me;
My house can’t be me!
Though I love my limbs most
Yet no limb is dearer to me than my own self.
I may allow a surgeon the amputation of my arm;
I’ll permit plastic surgery on my face.
I can get any organ of my body replaced
To lengthen the thread of my physical life.
A name represents the body as a whole,
But how strange, the name is retained
Even after every cell of the body has changed!
Body itself replaces all its cells in due course;
Then why fear abrupt replacement?
Isn’t energy constant?
When mending is neither desired nor possible,
Cast the tattered texture off
And welcome the new garment.
Death is the beginning of a new life!
Oh, but how many such beginnings?
Is life an eternal relay race or the flux of a moment?
Has it some final goal or purpose?
And is it an obligation
To giggle at success and grieve at a failure?
Is perfect equanimity not possible?
Is not the passing show of the world
Just a veil over the unchanging reality?
Can the non-existent exist?
And can the existent cease to be?
Then, who is slain and who slays?
It’s only soul that transmigrates !
But Ego is bonded with the karmas
After the karmas are squared up,
And after the light of the Soul is reflected in the Ego,
Duality disappears and Soul becomes God;
Then eternal liberation, the Perfect Bliss is attained.