Guiding Light of The Month

To Thee, supreme Dispenser of all boons, to Thee who givest life its justification, by making it pure, beautiful and good, to Thee, Master of our destinies and goal of all our aspirations, was consecrated the first minute of this new year. - The Mother

Evenings…

A few days ago, I had a glorious evening as I watched the children of Mother’s International school perform a play on Sri Aurobindo’s life. The play had the energy of passionate hearts, the spirituality and humor of his beautiful life and the calm hands of The Mother moving from one scene to the next.

A sweet flute music as of Krishna’s coming lifted the screens. On the stage was set a Bengali household and was heard the cry of a little new babe. Sri Aurobindo was born. The spirit of Bengali culture and religion was portrayed in the songs and dance that followed, it brought a joy in everyone’s hearts. His adventurous and colorful life at England came next with the poems, the joy of three brothers, their life and their friendly discussions. The audacity in Sri Aurobindo’s decision to get back to India, perhaps a passionate one, to serve the nation was shown with great vigor and fervor. A sweet smile played on our lips as we watched the scene where Sri Aurobindo interacted with the Maharaja of Baroda and a secret tear, perhaps, rolled down our cheeks when we saw him arrested and taken to jail. To watch Sri Aurobindo sit in the little cell and write the poetry ‘Who’ touched all hearts and his Uttarpara speech set everyone on an inner search.

And then, he was right there where the waves of oceans wash the feet of God, at Pondicherry, and Sweet Mother came in to hold his hands in his beautiful journey to his Divine destiny.

The day next to the play dawned with the light of The Mother. It was the day when Sri Aurobindo’s Mahasamdhi was remembered with gratitude. All day, the space was preparing for an evening that was glorious than the previous one. An evening of Savitri, meditative dance, golden lights and prayers.

The winds were chill, night was a deep velvety blue and all gathered there in the lawn. A depth of silence occupied the space and lines from Savitri were read for a meditative dance movement. Everyone carried a little diya in their hands, close to their hearts and offered it at Mother’s feet. Music and meditation ended the day and everyone ate quite happily at the dining hall.

After dinner, with just a shawl around me, the winter winds chilling my spine, I walked to the shrine lawns. It was just me and the space. The shrine was like Mother Saraswati clad in a white saree and decorated with golden jewels. The diyas were placed all around and on the lawns. It was as though golden stars had fallen from the sky on the ground and it spoke to me of something so magical, something so joyous and beautiful. It was like music.


Sandhya

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