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“`My ego has changed and fallen upon the earth, making me more beautiful…

autumn_leaves_in_motion_sunrise_sunset_wisconsin_2008_photo_01__soul-amp“`A ‘detached’ person feels like an orphan, helpless and shelterless. That is why a detached person cannot accept anybody in the shape of religion, country or family then how will ONE compare and contrast the feeling of mine with the feeling of his or thine?

how will ONE distinguish between a friend and a stranger?

How will be say that ONE is an Indian or an American?

And how will ONE be in the position to say that ONE is a Hindu, a Sikh or a Christian?

How will ONE accept and adopt any boundary line or tradition?

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No, ONE will be able to do nothing. Even though ONE be in the living world, his/her feet are conducting her/him to the place where truth resides, where goodness emits fragrance, where is found the quintessence of life. The stage towards which her/his steps are directed is the true destination of life.

The detached person is a failure in the worldly sense, that is why ONE feels her/himself worthless. ONE feels that She/he has been able to do nothing, because ONE could not do anything.In fact, ONE was incapable of anything; could not even have an empty smile; ONE could not shed crocodile tears; the confinement to restraints suffocated her/him; ONE could not be selfish. Then what should ONE do? ONE lives in the world but remains out of it; Remains in relationships, but keeps aloof from them; ONE is in the crowd, but feels like lost; ONE heaves his breaths, but is not alive.

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“`When I go into SILENCE, then I am Nothing,even I am not Mine

 

e8c5fd03c0f172d72fd2eec7b989332f~ Because Rose is not Muslim, she can’t say ” ALLAH ”

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~ Because she was not born in Hinduism, she can’t say ”OUM ”

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~ Because she do not go to a SIKH-TEMPLE, So she is not ” SIKH ”

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~ Because she did not read the BIBLE, then she can not love ”JESUS ”

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When messages Like these come from Friends-relatives, then Shaheer’s response:
-Baba Kabira once said,
“I am not a Hindu,
Nor a Muslim am I!
I am this body,
a play Of five elements;
a drama Of the spirit dancing,
With joy and sorrow.” Bhagat Kabira
But she will not say what KABIR JI has.
She will say,
”I am Muslim-Hindu- Christian  Sikh-, I am ever all; because I Love Jesus- Muhammad- Nanak- Tao- Buddha- Krishna- Shiva- Kabir- Farid-Bullhe shah ect. then How can they not be…?
I love all religions, Quran- Gita- Bible- Guru granth- Tao- Maha gita- Upneshid, all is my Life and every Peer-Fakir-Saint Are mine.I love all Creation-Universe-Nature, I love everything,
Because:
When I look at Creation, Everything is mine;
when I go into SILENCE, then I am nothing, even I am not Mine.”

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“`Smile is gazing towards the Creation

“`When the Smile took its place as a ruler on my lips eight years ago, and I would stand still in front of mirror again and again; I can not believe that Smile with me, because I never dreampt that I would Smile as such. This Smile had taken birth from SILENCE and NATURE.
Today !
This Moment !

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This Smile recognized the Ceation’s Smile, Now my moist Smile is gazing towards the Creation, and my mystic eyes sent massage that:
” Oh! Beautiful Smile, go and rule over every lips, and become known every being’s lips. Every being, Every moment, and Every spec is in need of such Smile.”

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“`That was the moment of mine and I became century…

I remember when I ask myself what had passed, “Time or Body”. Then Rose replied, “Body”. Ask the same question again,”What is passing at this moment”. Then a sound murmuried,” Today I am the alone”. Then time replied again, “I am the fragment of imagination. A being looking at its own changing body begins to say my name. A being passing through desires and thoughts also blames me. Although I stand still.”
Then I ask,” What is your speed and action?”
Time answered while looking at Rose,
“Rose do you remember those moments when the wish to fly entered your being; those moments were to attain me. Do you remember that thought which kept thinking who is your own and who is foreign–who am I and what is Life; those thoughts were to understand me. Do you remember that search which kept on researching freedom; that search was too surpass me.”

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Then I looked at Rose who was envolped in sigh of silence, which was nothing but sounds of thinking.I asked time, “Then how is your speed today, then who am I “.
Then time replied, ” there is no speed today either, I am standing still today as well. Only different  is that Rose is also standing still today”
Then who is this walking along,I asked; and time again replied, “You”
Then I ask amazingly, “I–Mine–How is that, so”
Then time replied, “Look at your own being with depth, then be aware of who I am?”
When I gaze at the time:
That was the moment of mine and I became century…
That was my own thought and I was just consciousness…
That was my own step and I was standing as destination…
Wow!

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Time was my own moment–my own idea…
Rose was my own feeling–my own emotion…
And:
I was nothing but emptiness
I was fullfil not only nothingness.

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“` When Life Blossoms In Silence

 

It may be day or night,
Perfect silence or deep uproar
There is a watchman-ship of silence at work. Words turn a person into a beggar and silence places on the human head the crown of the emperor of the inner spiritual kingdom. The individual despite being in shackles is free; but for being in the grip of longing despite being free we are slaves. In the desert of burning passions one’s worth is not more than a fig, but you, see in the matter of dreams and aspirations even a king is at the level of the laymen, for I think that Whether there are dreams or aspirations,
Thoughts or reflections, all give us the message of our metropolis;
Death teaches the glory of life;
Mountains, valleys, seas, the sky give us an idea of our comprehensiveness.
The consciousness of time teaches us that infinite and eternal we are;
Air suggests to us the tune of ‘Oum’.

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— Let there be the wails of lamentation or peals of happy laughter,
— Helplessness of circumstances or the sobbing state of the environment,
— Angry words of complaints or utterances of curse,
— Showers of blames or the pains of law violations,
— The fragrance of love or the drops of enthusiastic aspirations,
— Flowers of smile or the thorns of tears.
All feelingly make us realize their individual significance.
• Hungry bellies, moistened eyes, faded faces— do they not lift the corpses of comforts?
• Does the loneliness of trouble not look for happiness and comfort?
• Do broken hearts not give the message of death?
• Wild cries, the bitter gesture of envy and jealousy, the mode of thinking of rascals and ruffians, the solitude of love, the disappointment of hopes, the accidents of earth-quakes and whirlwinds, the cunning prattle of the wicked people, the tricks of the corrupt people, do they not transport us to the consciousness of death and throw our life into the pit of suffocation, helplessness and despair?
• The fragrance of flowers, the beauty of nature, the juice of fruit, the taste of vegetables, the redness of the sun, the bullishness of the sky the flights of birds, the stability of the trees, the unshaken stand of mountains, the light of the moon, the bashfulness of a woman, the fearlessness of man, the spiritual ecstasy of Krishna, Buddha and Jesus, the joyful symphonies of Shehnai do they not make life beautiful, are they not a boon for life, are they not life themselves?
But what does actually happen?

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The individual may live anywhere, may it be a palace or a hut, there comes a constant hum of quarrel and bickering and of envy and jealousy. Why?
Why is not there heard the thundering voice of love and peace?
And this silence, takes us beyond the challenge of death and the lullaby of life into the sweet and fresh music of the universe. The immaculate expansion of silence takes us into the music of depth as well as exalts us with the attainment of height. Very lucky they are who follow this path and hear this music of the spheres, who enjoy this zest of taste, who know this secret that they are not finite beings, but infinite; that they have no end and are endless. It is only with this realization that a person becomes happy, peaceful and contented. Then begins the start of a new life with new aspirations:- Then fears and worries born of the womb of the moments, the grief of in-completion, the painful sighs of weakness— all vanish in moments, then silence comes with only essential utterances and life proceeds with essential matters, “feelings” proceed only in the right direction to the place where freedom rises in revolt and where slavery has worn out itself. When they become votaries of dedication and devotion only then do they get their freedom which takes them to infinite bliss. But the individual has developed his interest in utterances while true friendship is shown only by ‘silence’.

 

dsc06190The individual’s life rests itself only on utterances while the necessary thing is to enshrine life into the heart of silence. This journey is the journey of freedom and freedom comes with knowledge. Knowledge is born of the womb of silence. Silence leads the individual to the quintessence of life, while the sabras of utterances can even kill life. when life blossoms in silence:-

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“`Love asked

 

“` Although we see sun rising every twelve hours, but life has sun rise and sun set every moment in this time and space. In the embodiment of love asmile travels out of my being and sets on my lips.and stares,this smile of silence begins to ask me,
Why you have no trust?
This question filled my eyes with nector of tears as love. (Tears of love) This tears had an awe of Silence. As this tear travels down to be with smile.

flores-do-campo-5So friends! what was the question with in the question?
Smile asked my being, “Do not you believe in your own love?”
When my tears of love hugged my silence smile,then silence accepted the words and smile became the paper and tears became the ink and love became the hand and the outcome was the —
“Total Liberation “
So the love says,
“No one ever faithfully believed in me, because i am the hotest desire for everybody”
Love asked my being,
“Was jesus persecuted or me?
Were Nanak, Buddha, Muhammad or Krishna misunderstood or me?
—O My Silly Being, its me!
Who so ever I rule does not believe in me? because, limit is infinite and infinit is limit. O my childish-feeling! I am so vast that I have hard time believing in my infinity that how can I accept anybody to have faith in my being.”

 

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This statement of Love made my silent smile into peace; then I looked at my being and only discovered an Awe.

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“`Love knows no boundaries

* What is Personal life?
* What is the Personality?
* What are Boundaries?
I don’t know the answer to these questions for. i have always been an unmindful traveler and still am today.Since I don’t konw myself, then how can I know what is my personal life, my personality and my Boundaries.
– Don’t I have aliveness or don’t I have Intellect or should I say i am foolish ?
Where should i draw the line that mark my boundaries, because where there boundaries for the Body, the Mind breaks in.
– Then, Where are Boundaries?

 

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Personal Relationships always remain in a Veil it never comes upon the lips. One that comes upon one’s lips can never be a Relationship. All I know its that my Emotion is my Life, this is my personality. Who ever my feelings touch, is mine. Therefore where is my Boundary.Where should I draw the line?

 

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My Emotions are my relation, Personality and Boundary, because my Emotion touches them All,
From:
— Earth to Sky, Time to Space, Nature to Science, Human to God, Virtue to Vice, East to West.Then to whom should I say personal Life? I am unaware of my Boundary, and I am unknown of Personal-life since my life is a virgin to its Essence.

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“` I recognize that what I love most is the essence of the divine

js_130826_2118“`A new feeling arises, a completely welcome feeling that expresses a deep realization. I feel I am finally arriving home. This mystery, this majesty, is my home, my original place. It is what my heart longs for and loves more than anything else. I realize I have always loved this mystery, and always longed to melt into it, even though I did not know consciously what I loved and longed for. I knew I loved the truth, but I was not aware that the truth is ultimately this inexplicable reality. I see that I have always felt exiled, that I have always been seeking to return home.

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“`You are only Honest for a Moment

 

dream-landscape-01“` When I glance at the World, i find HONESTY everywhere. Everyone is Honest. Some are Honest for: Themselves, Money, Desire, Relationship, Country and Religion.
Then I ask myself, ” Where is my Honesty- Am i Honest or Not?”
Then my SILENCE gave me a naughty Smile as I glance at Her with Depth, then my Silence replied, ” You are Only Honest for a MOMENT ”
My Silence vanished and left me with a single thought. —” So i am Only Honest for One MOMENT and Nothing else”— With this Impression deep Smile Imprint upon my Being. This Smile is the same naughty Smile of SILENCE

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“`What Name May I Give It?

“`While travelling through the depth of life, this existence today finds itself blossoming. I see today the reality of this universe which stands far beyond my words to describe. The moments spent on its reflection look like a heavy weight on this existence. Is there no other means for the expression of this consciousness except the length and depth of the breaths booming through silence? In the murmur of the fast blowing gale, the awareness of this profound silence is an echo that swallows my thoughts. It:
Wants to indulge in a giggle, but is voiceless.
Wants to rain, but has no raindrop.
Which is the understanding of life, which bedecks life in the garb of ignorance.
The silence of death which lays life on the bed of relaxation.
Whatever I am—what I am despite not being— despite not being, I am—Perhaps I am infinite.
What name may I give it?

 

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Shall I be able to recognise this existence while passing through these moments?
Shall I be able to recognise my existence which is passing through my moments today?
My wish has had the element of negation concealed in it. My thirst contains satiety. My pause hides motion. Some part of life is hovering within me to familiarize me with some profound experience; and its echo forms this symphony that I—what should I call it?
For I realize nothing is left to do or to become, then should I call it as to what it is?
My existence?
My life?
Existence is stagnant life that is interrupted. What name should I assign for this speed in action in this halted existence, to the life emerging from this interrupted life?
It was half past four in the morning when I dreamt that I was endeavouring to climb a thin but very lofty wall. I was, at the same time, very careful to maintain my balance. I was in deep fear that if I fell, then? Despite my fear, I stood on the wall. When I opened my eyes the world of dreams disappeared and the dream of the past one hundred years started. Yes, the worldly dream started. It welcomed me in all its glory and splendour.
Occurring during my closed eyes the mental dream:
Running in my open eyes, the mind’s worldly dream. Then, moistened in the experience of the hissing feelings and perceptions, my existence became stable in deep calm and sober silence and it seemed as though whatever was motionless and still in this visible as well as invisible world. That it is I:
Who am in motion despite apparent stillness
Who, despite being incomplete, is complete
Who remains calm and quiet in the midst of noise or hubbub
If one takes one’s balanced stand in this experience, what name should be given to such a one?

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Just as today’s’ fresh morn has spread a new aroma in my feelings and perceptions, likewise it has made me perceive the unique layer of ‘Bhakti’ (devotion) and faith. It is a most pleasant and progressive journey that asks questions. Then what answer can we give to lend grace and charm to life? ‘Bhakti’—this word that circulates in my breaths is the word that has ever held me in its awareness and melted me.
I see:
I have ever been keenly aware of the presence of several read as well as heard words; and I never thought of reaching that stage, for the besieging consciousness of my incapacity and inability ever pricked me like a thorn.
Words like ‘saints’, ‘seers’, ‘sages’, ‘devotees’, ‘timeless’, ‘formless’, ‘attributeless’, ‘virtuous’, etc.—and their elevation catches me in the hot grip of nothingness. The shriek echoing in the bones, helplessness scorched in sobbing breaths—wants to burst like an ebb and flow to singe itself in the dreadful heat of the thirsty being.
The idea of the grandeur of such words I cannot have, despite exploration. The words which delimit our life, words that do not allow life a moment’s respite, words that take existence in their grasp and cause it cancer—are no longer traceable today.
If one can attain to divinity with Bhakti or devotion, then where is my ‘bhakti’?
If someone is called a seer or sage, by virtue of his holy recitation and deeds austere, then where is my recitation and austerity?
Neither ‘bhakti’ nor prayer and Austerity (asceticism)
Then what is the nature of these feelings and perceptions which enrich our existence and make our life extremely beautiful?
Today, my feet move about, but not I.
Today, my hands rise, but not I.
What name should I assign to such a state of awareness?

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For—because of cataracts of relaxation flowing in my smouldering existence, these words lost their grandeur when I lost my ‘I’ness’ or ‘ego’.
For if I descend into the lap of the past moments of this flux of life, I realize that if the painful suffocation, suffocating despair, stinging, venomous helplessness, the tormented state of thirsty feelings, days and nights passing in fear, and the whole life consumed by worry— all that was life. Then today, when all that has vanished, when the caravan of tormenting moments is not only in peace but even at play in the colourful design, what name should I give to this flow?
Today, the freshness of this new morning has made me realize that this is the stage where the heat of big and profound words has subsided. It seems that these words are a mere activity or process, which lending an apparel to the feelings and perceptions of our unique moments, makes them proceed in the world—and which takes in its fold the basic elements of truth, beauty, and goodness— what name should I assign to it?

 

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For:
It is an awareness which has no name.
It is that manifestation which has no being.
It is that sensibility which is next to nothing.
Because even in this nothing there is everything, which has all names and all stages.
These moments of today, which provide the zest of a tranquil life, are beyond the approach of words. It is a movement of existence which lies at peace in this ‘everlasting’ ‘is’ness’. It is a wordless walk, it needs no name but all other names depend on it. It is only an uncommon stay of experience which is only a presence. What name can I propose for it? Nothing. Therefore, let it remain what it is.