{"id":10742,"date":"2014-07-13T15:48:06","date_gmt":"2014-07-13T22:48:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/saa.santansoftwaresystems.com\/?p=10742"},"modified":"2014-12-06T23:04:45","modified_gmt":"2014-12-07T07:04:45","slug":"savitri-study-book-2-canto-13","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/savitri-study\/book-2-savitri-study\/savitri-study-book-2-canto-13","title":{"rendered":"Savitri-study-Book-2-Canto-13"},"content":{"rendered":"
\nIntroduction<\/a>   Notes<\/a>   Book 1<\/a>   Book II<\/a>   Book III<\/a>   Book IV<\/a>   
\nBook V<\/a>   Book VI<\/a>   Book VII<\/a>   Book VIII<\/a>   
\nBook IX<\/a>   Book X<\/a>   Book XI<\/a>   Book XII<\/a>
\n<\/br><\/br><\/div>\n
\n
\n

Book Two. The Book of the Traveller of the Worlds<\/p>\n

\nCanto I<\/a>    Canto II<\/a>    Canto III<\/a>    Canto IV<\/a>    
\nCanto V<\/a>
\n    Canto VI<\/a>    Canto VII<\/a>    Canto VIII<\/a>    
\nCanto IX<\/a>
\n    Canto X<\/a>    Canto XI<\/a>    Canto XII<\/a>    
\nCanto XIII<\/a>    Canto XIV<\/a>    
\nCanto XV<\/a>           \n<\/p>\n

<\/br><\/p>\n

\n
\n
\n

Book Two<\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

\n

The Book of the Traveller of the Worlds<\/b><\/p>\n

\n\n\n\n
<\/td>\n\n
\n


\nBook Two: Canto
\nXIII<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn
\nthe Self of Mind<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Summary<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n
Aswapathy arrives at an abrupt Silence where the climbing stair
\nof the worlds pauses. He stands alone with an immense Self of Mind
\nwhich is omnipotent but aloof from the world that has sprung from it.
\nIt does not participate in all the movements in this world but bears
\nthem equally. Aswapathy reflects this vast quietism.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis witness Silence
\nis the real base of the Thinker and the origin of the Word. Here meet
\nthe seeing Self and the potent Energy and creation ensues. Aswapathy
\nwatches the world from this height and seems to grasp the meaning of
\nits thoughts and forces. He feels that this Silence, this Peace is
\nthe ultimate.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSuddenly a Ray of
\nLight falls on the scene and shows to him that nothing is really
\nknown. The Truth, by knowing which all is known, is yet to be
\nreached. It is above thought and sense. All Knowledge built by the
\nmind appears unsound, unreal, all experience in life is converted
\ninto fixed mental forms that are more dead than alive. The entire
\nmental edifice collapses.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nMan’s mind is like a
\nhouse haunted by the dead past and petrified ideas. It is a force for
\nthe misuse of soul and life and the waste of higher gifts. It is a
\nstage for the comedy of Ignorance.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nStruck by this Ray
\nof Light, Reason loses confidence in its powers; its wisdom turns out
\nto be a brilliant guess, its science fumbling on the surfaces of
\nthings. What has been done is little more than a plan, a figure of
\nreality. The self of existence itself appears to be but a fragile
\nleaf afloat on the ocean of Nothingness. The Mind is seen to hang as
\na veil between the soul and the Light. Even the witness Self looks to
\nbe a pale shadow of the Unknowable. Peace is there but not the
\npotent, creative Power, the mighty Mother who gathers to her bosom
\nthe worlds of her making in the Bliss of God.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA greater Spirit
\nthan the Self of Mind must be found if Aswapathy’s seeking soul is to
\nbe satisfied. Aswapathy looks above, but all is blank and still; he
\nlooks down below, all is dark and mute. In between is the great stir
\nof life in the realms of Ignorance. The soul wanders between these
\ntwo firmaments of darkness and light, the Inconscient and the
\nSuperconscient.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nDeep Cessation<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nAt last there came a
\nbare indifferent sky
Where Silence listened to the cosmic Voice,
\n
But answered nothing to a million calls;
The soul\u2019s endless
\nquestion met with no response. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAn abrupt conclusion
\nended eager hopes,
A deep cessation in a mighty calm,
A
\nfinis-line on the last page of thought
And a margin and a blank
\nof wordless peace. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy arrives at
\na region where all is still. There is a complete Silence which,
\nindeed, takes in all that happens in the cosmos but does not respond
\nin any manner. The pressing question of the Goal, ever put by the
\nsoul, finds no answer; all the eager hopes are suddenly terminated.
\nIn the great stillness that prevails all ceases; no more are thought
\nand word.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Self
\nof Mind<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nThere paused the
\nclimbing hierarchy of worlds. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHe stood on a wide
\narc of summit Space
Alone with an enormous Self of Mind
Which
\nheld all life in a corner of its vasts. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHere pauses the
\nstair of the order of the worlds that Aswapathy has climbed. He now
\nstands on a wide summit, and finds himself alone with the immense
\nSelf of Mind. This Self is so vast that all life seems to occupy just
\na corner in it.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Aloof
\nand Indifferent<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nOmnipotent, immobile
\nand aloof,
In the world which sprang from it, it took no part:
\n
It gave no heed to the paeans of victory,
It was indifferent
\nto its own defeats,
It heard the cry of grief and made no sign,
\n
Impartial fell its gaze on evil and good,
It saw destruction
\ncome and did not move. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis Self of the
\nmind is omnipotent, but it does not move; it stands aloof, not taking
\npart in the movement of the world that has issued from itself.
\nNeither victory nor defeat touch it; the cry of grief from the world
\nreaches it but evokes no response. It is equal in its witness-gaze to
\ngood and evil. Even an approaching destruction fails to move it into
\naction.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Witness
\nLord<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nAn equal Cause of
\nthings, a lonely Seer
And Master of its multitude of forms,
It
\nacted not but bore all thoughts and deeds,
The witness Lord of
\nNature\u2019s myriad acts
Consenting to the movements of her Force.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis Self is the
\nsame Cause of all: overseer of all movements, Master of the
\nmultiplicity of forms, up-bearer of all thoughts and actions but not
\ntheir doer. It is the witnessing Lord of the many acts of Nature,
\nsanctioner of the movements of her Force.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Silence,
\nthe Mystic Birthplace<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nHis mind reflected
\nthis vast quietism. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis witness hush is
\nthe Thinker\u2019s secret base:
Hidden in silent depths the word is
\nformed,
From hidden silences the act is born
Into the
\nvoiceful mind, the labouring world;
In secrecy wraps the seed the
\nEternal sows
Silence, the mystic birthplace of the soul. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy’s mind is
\nsuffused with this vast Quiet. This regarding Silence is the real
\nbase of the Thinker in man; from here takes birth all his expression,
\nall action, that moves into manifestation. Here, in the mystic
\nbirthplace of the soul, in this Silence, lies the seed sown by the
\nEternal Divine, enfolded in secrecy.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Creation
\nfrom Dual Power<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nIn God\u2019s supreme
\nwithdrawn and timeless hush
A seeing Self and potent Energy met;
\n
The Silence knew itself and thought took form:
Self-made from
\nthe dual power creation rose. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe witness Self and
\nthe active Energy meet in the Eternal, supreme Silence that is aloof
\nfrom all. Here the Silence is fully self-aware and Thought assumes
\nforms. From this duality of the silent Self and dynamic Energy, all
\ncreation has issued.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>In
\nthe Still Self he Lives<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nIn the still self he
\nlived and it in him;
Its mute immemorable listening depths,
Its
\nvastness and its stillness were his own;
One being with it he
\ngrew wide, powerful, free. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy becomes
\none with this still self, he lives in it and it in him. He
\nexperiences its silent, attentive profounds, its vastness and its
\nstillness in his own being. As he and the self become one, he gets
\nenlarged, full of power and free.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>He
\nWatches the World<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nAs one who builds
\nhis own imagined scenes
And loses not himself in what he sees,
\n
Spectator of a drama self-conceived,
He looked on the world
\nand watched its motive thoughts
With the burden of luminous
\nprophecy in their eyes,
Its forces with their feet of wind and
\nfire
Arisen from the dumbness in his soul. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy looks on
\nthe world and watches arising from the stillness of his soul
\nworld-shaping thoughts brightly significant and world-moving forces
\nin their rapidity and consuming power.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>His
\nSoul has Peace<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nAll now he seemed to
\nunderstand and know;
Desire came not nor any gust of will,
The
\ngreat perturbed inquirer lost his task;
Nothing was asked nor
\nwanted any more. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere he could stay,
\nthe Self, the Silence won:
His soul had peace, it knew the cosmic
\nWhole. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt looks as though
\nhe has come to understand and know everything. No more is desire; no
\nmore is any willing; no more is the restless seeking thought, its
\nobjective having ceased. Nothing is sought nor Wanted. Aswapathy
\nfeels he has at last arrived, he has won the Self and the Silence,
\nhis soul has peace, it now knows the universe.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Yet
\nNothing Known<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nThen suddenly a
\nluminous finger fell
On all things seen or touched or heard or
\nfelt
And showed his mind that nothing could be known;
That
\nmust be reached from which all knowledge comes. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThen, all of a
\nsudden, a revealing touch is felt and Aswapathy realises that in
\nspite of all that he has seen, touched, heard and felt, he has not
\nreally known anything. He has still to reach that Truth which is the
\nsource of all Knowledge, that which being known, all is known.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Sceptic
\nRay Disrupts<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nThe sceptic Ray
\ndisrupted all that seems
And smote at the very roots of thought
\nand sense. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn a universe of
\nNescience they have grown,
Aspiring towards a superconscient Sun,
\n
Playing in shine and rain from heavenlier skies
They never
\ncan win however high their reach
Or overpass however keen their
\nprobe. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis Truth-Ray
\nbreaks up all the seeming formations and strikes at the very roots of
\nthought and sense which have slowly developed, in the world based
\nupon Nescience, as instruments of experience and growth seeking the
\nsupreme Light of Truth-Knowledge. These faculties have severe
\nconstitutional limitations which bar them from venturing beyond a
\ncertain range, however much they may try.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Doubt
\nCorrodes<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nA doubt corroded
\neven the means to think,
Distrust was thrown upon Mind\u2019s
\ninstruments;
All that it takes for reality\u2019s shining coin,
\n
Proved fact, fixed inference, deduction clear,
Firm theory,
\nassured significance,
Appeared as frauds upon Time\u2019s credit
\nbank
Or assets valueless in Truth\u2019s treasury. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA doubt starts
\neating into his very thinking faculty; the mind begins to distrust
\nits own powers and functionings. All that it had taken as genuine and
\nproved as fact; the inference that is established, the deduction that
\nis obvious, the theory that is unshakable, the significance that is
\nconfirmed\u2014all begin to lose their glow and appear counterfeit.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Ignorance
\non uneasy Throne<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nAn Ignorance on an
\nuneasy throne
Travestied with a fortuitous sovereignty
A
\nfigure of knowledge garbed in dubious words
And tinsel
\nthought-forms brightly inadequate. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nWhat appeared to be
\nknowledge reveals itself to be but an ignorance ruling uneasily, a
\ntemporary figure of knowledge clothed in words of doubtful import and
\nflimsy thought-forms glittering in their inadequacy.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Labourer
\nin the Dark<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nA labourer in the
\ndark dazzled by half-light,
What it knew was an image in a broken
\nglass,
What it saw was real but its sight untrue. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHe sees that the
\nmind in ignorance seeking to know is like a labourer in darkness who
\nis dazzled by even a half-light. What it thinks it knows is only a
\nfragmented reflection, like an image in a broken glass; the object
\nthat is seen is indeed real, but its actual registration in the mind
\nis not it does not correspond to the fact.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Ideas
\nLeave no Trace<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nAll the ideas in its
\nvast repertory
Were like the mutterings of a transient cloud
\n
That spent itself in sound and left no trace. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIdeas crowd in the
\narena of this mind and make a big bustle. But soon their noise dies
\naway and leaves no trace, very much like the loud sounds of a passing
\ncloud.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Fragile
\nHouse<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nA frail house
\nhanging in uncertain air,
The thin ingenious web round which it
\nmoves,
Put out awhile on the tree of the universe,
And
\ngathered up into itself again,
Was only a trap to catch life\u2019s
\ninsect food,
Winged thoughts that flutter fragile in brief light
\n
But dead, once captured in fixed forms of mind,
Aims puny but
\nlooming large in man\u2019s small scale,
Flickers, of imagination\u2019s
\nbrilliant gauze
And cobweb-wrapped beliefs alive no more.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHe sees that the
\nwhole fabric constructed by this mind is frail, without a firm base;
\nit is only an ingenious device to capture as much of life as
\npossible. The thought-perceptions that are so caught become lifeless
\nonce they are caged in the fixed forms of the mind. Small aims loom
\nlarge on the limited canvas of this mind. Even bright flashes of
\nimagination fade away and beliefs cease to be living as they get
\nentangled in mental cobwebs of creeds and dogmas.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Magic
\nHut Collapses<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nThe magic hut of
\nbuilt-up certitudes
Made out of glittering dust and bright
\nmoonshine
In which it shrines its image of the Real,
Collapsed
\ninto the Nescience whence it rose. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe whole edifice of
\nseeming certitudes built up by this mind out of attractive material,
\nenshrining not the Reality but some distant image of it, collapses
\nbefore the eyes of Aswapathy. Constructed on the base of Nescience it
\nsinks back into it.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Symbol
\nFacts and Falsehoods<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nOnly a gleam was
\nthere of symbol facts
That shroud the mystery lurking in their
\nglow,
And falsehoods based on hidden realities
By which they
\nlive until they fall from Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nWhat remains before
\nAswapathy is only a gleam of facts symbolic in character, covering up
\nthe secret truth in their vague lustre. There are also falsehoods
\nwhich derive their existence from hidden realities; in fact they are
\nperversions of truths and they last till they are exposed and shed in
\nthe march of Time.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Our
\nMind<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nOur mind is a house
\nhaunted by the slain past,
Ideas soon mummified, ghosts of old
\ntruths,
God\u2019s spontaneities tied with formal strings
And
\npacked into drawers of reason\u2019s trim bureau,
A grave of great
\nlost opportunities,
Or an office for misuse of soul and life
And
\nall the waste man makes of heaven\u2019s gifts
And all his
\nsquanderings of Nature\u2019s store,
A stage for the comedy of
\nIgnorance. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nMan’s mind is
\npursued by memories, impressions and habits of the dead past. Past
\nideas continue in lifeless forms, old truths cast their ghost-like
\nshadows, natural and spontaneous movements are reduced to a system
\nand cabined into formulas devised by reason. The mind is the scene of
\ngreat opportunities dying unutilised. It directs the general misuse
\nof the powers and possibilities of soul and life by forcing them to
\nsubserve its own notions, presides over the colossal waste of the
\ngifts of the spirit and the bequests of Mother-Nature. The mind is a
\nveritable stage on which the comedy of life in Ignorance is enacted.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Reason
\nLoses Confidence<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nThe world seemed a
\nlong aeonic failure\u2019s scene:
All sterile grew, no base was left
\nsecure. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAssailed by the edge
\nof the convicting beam
The builder Reason lost her confidence
In
\nthe successful sleight and turn of thought
That makes the soul
\nthe prisoner of a phrase. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy watches
\nall becoming sterile, nothing remaining secure; the world seems to be
\nthe scene of a sorry failure of an adverse aeonic labour. As the Ray
\nof Light strikes, Reason the artisan of the mind loses confidence in
\nits familiar trick-technique of imprisoning the soul in a mere
\nphrase, a verbal form of thought, and thus preventing the realisation
\nof the truth in life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Passing
\nLight<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nIts highest wisdom
\nwas a brilliant guess,
Its mighty structured science of the
\nworlds
A passing light on being\u2019s surfaces. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe highest wisdom
\narrived at by Reason turns out to be only a guess, however brilliant;
\nits laboured systems of the science of the worlds no more than a
\nbrief wavering light on the surface level of the being.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nScrawl Figure of Reality<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nThere was nothing
\nthere but a schema drawn by sense,
A substitute for eternal
\nmysteries,
A scrawl figure of reality, a plan
And elevation
\nby the architect Word
Imposed upon the semblances of Time.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll that passes for
\nknowledge is seen to be merely a scheme etched out by the sense, a
\npoor substitute for the truth that continues to be a mystery, a
\nhastily drawn figure doing duty for the reality, a formulation of
\nmere words floating on appearances.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Existence’
\nSelf Doubtful<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nExistence\u2019 self
\nwas shadowed by a doubt Almost it seemed a lotus-leaf afloat
On a
\nnude pool of cosmic Nothingness. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe very self, crux
\nof existence looks doubtful. It seems as if it were a precariously
\nfloating lotus-leaf on the bare waters of a vast Nothing.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Half-Seeing
\nDelegate<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nThis great spectator
\nand creator Mind
Was only some half-seeing\u2019s delegate,
A
\nveil that hung between the soul and Light,
An idol, not the
\nliving body of God. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe Mind that
\ncreates and witnesses is seen to be little more than a half-blind
\nagent. It acts as a veil between the evolving soul and the Supreme
\nLight above. It is like a mere image representing poorly the real
\nliving form of God.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nShadow seems the Self<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nEven the still
\nspirit that looks upon its works
Was some pale front of the
\nUnknowable;
A shadow seemed the wide and witness Self,
Its
\nliberation and immobile calm
A void recoil of being from
\nTime-made things,
Not the self-vision of Eternity. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe spirit that is
\nun-involved and looks upon its works ceases to be the self-aware and
\nall-aware reality that it has always been and appears to be something
\npale and unknowable. The Self that is wide and witnesses all loses
\nits evident reality and seems to be a shadow; its state of freedom
\nand immutable calm\u2014which is really the self-regard of the Eternal
\nSpirit\u2014appears to be nothing more than an empty recoil from
\nmanifestation in Time.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Sweet
\nand Mighty Mother not There<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nDeep peace was
\nthere, but not the nameless Force:
Our sweet and mighty Mother
\nwas not there
Who gathers to her bosom her children\u2019s lives,
\n
Her clasp that takes the world into her arms
In the
\nfathomless rapture of the Infinite,
The Bliss that is creation\u2019s
\nsplendid grain
Or the white passion of God-ecstasy
That
\nlaughs in the blaze of the boundless heart of Love. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is profound
\npeace but the great vibrant Force that dominates is not there. The
\nmighty and sweet Mother of All is not there, the Creatrix who gathers
\nto her bosom the innumerable lives of her children, who holds in her
\narms the whole world in the deep rapture of the Infinite Being. She
\nis not there from whose unlimited heart of Love flows the Bliss and
\nthe divine ecstasy that underlies all creation.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nGreater Spirit must Answer<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nA greater Spirit
\nthan the Self of Mind
Must answer to the questioning of his soul.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFor here was no firm
\nclue and no sure road;
High-climbing pathways closed in the
\nunknown;
An artist sight constructed the Beyond
In contrary
\npatterns and conflicting hues;
A part-experience fragmented the
\nWhole. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt is clear that
\nthis Self of Mind at which Aswapathy has arrived cannot satisfy his
\nsoul. The questionings of his soul can be answered only by a still
\ngreater Spirit. The mind can offer no definite clue to the mystery,
\nshow no certain road; its climbing pathways lose themselves in the
\nunknown. The eye catches only some bewildering lines and hues of the
\nBeyond, only some fragmented experiences of the Reality that cannot
\nbe divided.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Blank
\nAbove<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nHe looked above, but
\nall was blank and still;
A sapphire firmament of abstract Thought
\n
Escaped into a formless Vacancy. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHe looked below, but
\nall was dark and mute. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy looks
\nabove, all is blank, still. The skies of abstract thought fade off
\ninto a formless emptiness. He looks down. Below, all is dark, mute.
\nEither way, it is a mystery.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Noise
\nand Strife Between<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nA noise was heard,
\nbetween, of thought and prayer,
A strife, a labour without end or
\npause;
A vain and ignorant seeking raised its voice. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA rumour and a
\nmovement and a call,
A foaming mass, a cry innumerable
Rolled
\never upon the ocean surge of Life
Along the coasts of mortal
\nIgnorance. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn between there is
\na stir, a noisy movement of thought, and an ignorant seeking, a
\nstrife and labour, a varied call and cry from the expanse of Life
\nwithin the boundaries of mortal Ignorance.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Beings
\nand Forces Jostle<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nOn its unstable and
\nenormous breast
Beings and forces, forms, ideas like waves
\n
Jostled for figure and supremacy,
And rose and sank and rose
\nagain in Time, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOn the bosom of this
\nimmense, surging sea of Life there is a continuous strife among
\nbeings, forces, forms, ideas for formation and supremacy. They rise
\nand fall and rise again to battle and win.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Dim
\nInconscient<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nAnd at the bottom of
\nthe sleepless stir,
A Nothingness parent of the struggling
\nworlds,
A huge creator Death, a mystic Void,
For ever
\nsustaining the irrational cry,
For ever excluding the supernal
\nWord,
Motionless, refusing question and response,
Reposed
\nbeneath the voices and the march
The dim Inconscient\u2019s dumb
\nincertitude. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAnd at the base of
\nall this stir is a Nothingness, a great Death that consumes as it
\ncreates, an inexplicable Void, upbearing the whole meaningless
\nmovement, keeping out the saving Word of Power from above. It is
\ninert, unresponsive, the dumb denial of the obscure Inconscient.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Between
\ntwo Firmaments<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nTwo firmaments of
\ndarkness and of light
Opposed their limits to the spirit\u2019s
\nwalk;
It moved veiled in from Self\u2019s infinity
In a world of
\nbeings and momentary events
Where all must die to live and live
\nto die. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThus does the spirit
\nin evolution march as between the two great horizons\u2014one of light
\nabove and the other of darkness below. Sectioned off from the
\ninfinity of the Self, this movement goes on in a world of beings and
\npassing circumstances where if death passes into life, life
\ninevitably leads to death.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>To
\nbe is a Prison<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n


\nImmortal by renewed
\nmortality,
It wandered in the spiral of its acts
Or ran
\naround the cycles of its thought,
Yet was no more than its
\noriginal self
And knew no more than when it first began.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nTo be was a prison,
\nextinction the escape. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEven though through
\nthis process of constant life and death, the embodied spirit, the
\nsoul, moves in the upward circles of its activity or turns round and
\nround in the cycles of its thought, yet with all this movement it
\nappears to be where it was in the beginning, the same self as then.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nTo live seems to be
\nan imprisonment and annihilation the only way out.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n



\n<\/P>\n<\/div>\n<\/td>\n

<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Introduction   Notes   Book 1   Book II   Book III   Book IV    Book V   Book VI   Book VII   Book VIII    Book IX   Book X   Book XI   Book XII Book Two. The Book of the Traveller of the Worlds…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[250],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10742","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-book-2-savitri-study","wpcat-250-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10742","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10742"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10742\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11081,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10742\/revisions\/11081"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10742"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10742"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10742"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}