Hey, all this from whom? .

- A part-time master tailor

- How has this mind, this prana, this motion towards the path, this word and its pronunciation, this eye, this ear been functioning? Who makes all this possible?

Yes, even at this moment, like that sage of the Canopanishad, my admiration remains intact for our existence, for this vast, variegated creation: aye, this mind, this prana, this motion towards the path, this word and its utterance, this eye, How are these ears working? Who makes all this possible? These and many other questions of mine are getting darker day by day. Such questions give me reasons to love this creation more and more. Such questions continue to expand my world of wonder. My desire grows stronger to capture the wonderful beauty that stretches beyond me. Sometimes that's why like a child I have been watching the flow of water for hours for no reason. Its sharp-slowness, its rising circles, sometimes its buoyancy sometimes beguile its mesmerizing quiet-flat gait. Sometimes I like to play catch with running springs. Sometimes it takes over the eyes, ears and soul and floods it from within. Sometimes, like the poet Sepharis, I hear the buzzing of bees—seeing the world on a branch of a tree—then truly my ears also become the ears of a child. What will be the buzz? What words would she be eager to convey to me? Without dimensions, without equations, the world is un-ended. Where has the attraction of this sun-moon gone? The shining sun, being the king of light, attracts with its unique face every time it is seen. It happens that hey, look at this madman, he is sitting with some secrets in himself! It is enormous. So he is also ripe in his responsibility. When it rises, everything rises, when it shines, everything shines, when it shines, the world becomes transparent, when it shines, like Kunti and who is attracted, when it shines, the whole world celebrates the festival of energy. seems to be. Not only Rannade, but the glory he extended to his gigantic form left many grateful. Sometimes the same sun may be making someone sad. Sons of Surya can learn pride in it. But after all, the sun is the source of excitement. Humans are ostracized, animals and birds are also danced in their own way. From the earth to the sky, he is introducing his oneness by establishing his relationship, how big is his vision!

A poet like Rilke might have liked to commune with birds in flight for similar reasons. For similar reasons it may have stirred from within. The touch of every event in the world must have taken him with great joy. Yes, anyone who is sitting with the sum total of eye, ear, mind, word, speech, path can experience such a beauty-full divine world all around, say, take a moment and plunder it. Such a love not only makes him, his parts, feel meaningful, but also inspires him, his whole being to create something. How much such magical nature gave to Wordsworth, and how much he gave to the world in return! Alas, how and how much the sages of the Upanishad-Veda have been weaving out of such beauty-nibid creation of the world! Today, it has remained intact for ages. Tell me who has been able to cover such a talismanic creature? It is absoluteness, direction is its garment, its song is eternal, its music is eternal. Its victory is continuous. Only for that the sage should look at the ear-eye-breath, tongue, mind, path. The sages must have written aptly to call creation the poetry of God from such a nibid sense of beauty. Even yogis are not alienated from such beauty, rather they have extended yoga in the midst of such beautiful nature, from there they have got the books of the essence of existence, from there they have got the keys to solve the subtle secrets of the creation. The soul of nature continues to make its silence sweetly felt there. River banks, watercourses, waterfalls, waterfalls, wooded places - for them, Narya was meaningful. When they saw the rapidity, the height, the speed and the force with which the waterfalls fell on the stones, created new shapes, and flowed on the ground as a stream, they would have tried to put the water, its speed, its form directly into words. Between the mountains and stones, different shapes were formed, the sounds which were produced by the vibrations, the stones were getting new shapes from it, the stones also became alive and were chanting words, the mind-soul-ears of that sage only reached to all. Not only that, he would have made him die - so when he could have composed or recited 'Veda' or 'Upa-Nishad' sitting near him, he could have heard the true echo of words of gratitude, grace and love, convincing him of a world full of joy and suffering. would have, could have flowed.

Yes, this nature, these seasons, all the wishes of the seasons are in their status quo, nature does not like to be displaced. If someone does that forcefully, he needs to take revenge in his own way. The place has become more corrupt than this man. Look at the rest, this Kartak is about to end, Magash will begin...These are the days when even the singer of Gita will exclaim with joy. But we are silent, all in the midst of its exciting signs!