A thought strikes god for a little bud to appear. This, the
beginning? A stem, a support for the bud is grown first. And then, a very tiny,
beautiful bud takes form. It is closed but there is a lot of beauty in it. Perhaps there is a million prospects teeming
with life within? Or perhaps there is just one, waiting to express, in God’s
Perfection? There is a yearning from within to open, to reveal the beauty as a
fully grown flower, to reveal the teeming multitude or just that one beauty.
The sunshine falls on it, joyful at times, little harder at times, to unfurl it
or sometimes, if need be, to wrench it open. A lot of water is poured for it to
grow. And slowly, one petal at a time, step by step, it opens. It is guided,
the very sunshine, water, breeze does the opening and the stem is always there
for it to stand and never fall. The little bud doesn’t make any effort. It is
just happy. None of the petals fall down. For they are all given with a purpose
whether they appear good or bad. They all transform, change colour too, sometimes,
and open.
It looks beautiful when the flower blooms. The mystic centre is
revealed and the petals appear dancing around it. Like gopikas dancing around Krishna. The centre is all that holds this
beauty we call a flower.
Sunshine and the moon glow are the best of all teachers. They just
do their work at the right time. Sometimes, clouds cover them too. But that is
only for the clouds to pour down as rain, splashing rain falls, and then, the
shine is back again with little chirping birds.
This flower, isn’t it the sweet child in our midst, waiting to bloom
into his or her own brilliant self? How we all stand around this being, this
flower, mere instruments. But instruments can make or break. And education only
a life-long process that hopes to unfurl the flower, true to its truest nature
and quality.
Who is this beautiful teacher who can cast that magic spell? Who is
she? Who is he? Parents? School teachers? Grand-parents? Neighbours? Family
members? Friends? …Who?
Perhaps, the best teacher could be one who is also in the process of
unfurling his beauty, on the way perhaps, to revealing his centre to himself.
Or one who has already realised what true knowledge is and transforms lives
just by being, allowing rays of grace to do their work, integrally.
Isn’t education then a long journey? Perhaps, in this journey, there
is no teacher, no taught. Perhaps it is a becoming and we all ride on this
river towards a greater sea and a vaster ocean of self-discovery?
Sandhya and Jayanthy
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