Auromusic | on line books | Light endlesslight | eCentre | flowers |


Krishna Chakravarti


Your name, O Lord, conveys not the beauty and charm of a single lotus but like a mantra surges up from within the expectation for the advent and manifestation of the new world, of luminous beatitude, of magical charm and grace and of a supernatural beauty and joy dancing through our hearts as:

A million lotuses swaying on one stem...

Glory to you, O Lord, majestic and in perfect tranquillity as the age-old Himalayas, reflecting a splendour as magnificent as when a golden ray of the sinking sun falls on the snow-covered mountain. The head, hoary and venerable, is surrounded by an aura charged and vibrating with the new Light. The forehead  reflects all the wisdom of the Vedas and shines with the pioneering knowledge of the Supramental Truth. The face is as peaceful as that of Nataraja doing his Tandava Nritya. The eyes deep—deep as the bottomless ocean, unfathomable, unreachable, luminous, full of life—all-absorbing, all-observing, looking beyond space after space at the millennia passing by. And as surges the sacred Ganges from the snow-clad Himalayas, flowing, fertilising, vitalising and sustaining the vast country of Bharata, the universal knowl­edge, O Lord, pouring out from your eyes sustains and uplifts the whole of humanity. As a dip in the Ganges purifies one of all sins, a tiny drop of that knowledge touching our heart can succour a soul and lift it up towards that mighty goal: "To change the earthly life to life divine."

Glory to you, O Poet and Scholar, spending your childhood and youth in an alien country, solitary and in poverty yet refusing to fade away into oblivion, dejected and depressed, you gently bloomed into a lotus radiating with mastery over the Latin, Greek, English and French languages and outpouring poetry with grace and power.

Glory to you, O worthy son of India, who perceived her not as an inert land of rivers and mountains but as the Mother Bhavani! A Mother to be loved, to be worshipped, to even sacrifice one's life for.

Glory to you, O foremost and dynamic leader of India's struggle for freedom, inspiring your countrymen not only to free the nation from foreign rule but to awaken to the spirit of Sanatana Dharma.

Let Bharatvarsha show its gratefulness to you, O Lord, by awakening to its true mission, in this golden jubilee year of its independence, to become the "land of light and spiritual knowledge".

Glory to you, O Rishi of the century, who retired to the half-dead city of Pondicherry to plunge into your Sadhana, foresaw a bright and hopeful future for the evolution of man.

Glory to you, O Saviour, resurrecting the Vedapuri of olden times from death and decay to a life all-encompassing, pulsating with charged light.

Let the city of Pondicherry show its gratefulness to you, O Lord, by becoming the Swargadwara, the heavenly gate, to the Supramental World.

Glory to you, O Visionary of the Truth-Light, consecrating all your life, even sacrificing it, so that the glory you have reached, your individual realisation, may become a terrestrial realisation, find a home on earth.

Glory to you, O Avatar, can humanity ever forget what you have done for it! You have made it jump a million years of nature's painstaking evolution to accomplish it in a few centuries.

Let humanity show its gratefulness to you, O Lord, by consenting to be transformed. You were not born for death, O Immortal Spirit, but like the eternal sun lighting up the world, you, O Lord, the deathless spirit, enlighten the entire humanity.

In this your 125th birth anniversary, spontaneously a prayer rises from the bottom of the heart: "Your Glory, O Lord, let it spread, envelop this world and all other worlds. Can there be anything that can obstruct this splendour? An ardent aspiration rises to know you, to be a worthy instrument of yours, to be your faithful and obedient servant. To be a tiny Service-Flower at your beatific feet.

Let the emerald playful rustling leaves, the joyous gurgling rivers, the mirthful melting snow, the merrily whistling winds, the happy chirping birds, the carefree sprawling animals and all the human souls, so often in bondage, chant in unison the Mantra: