Mystic

By Srinivasa Murthy

We felt sorrow because of impermanence. The impermanence of relationship caused misery and pain. If we lost anything, we have to search where we lost it. If we lost peace in relationship due to impermanence, we can get it through relationship only. The hero in this story lost peace consequent deaths of his father and grandmother. He rejected the love of his classmate Neeraja. He left his mother and went to sages for the solution to his misery. During his visit, he met sage Jagadananda. He said that this world is illusion and preached non-dualistic theory of Sankaracharya. Afterwards, he went to sage Chidananda. He explained the paths of meditation. He also met Jain monks and Buddhist monks. He came to know about the philosophies of Jainism and Buddhism. He read about Aurobindos concepts and came to know about the mystic Ramakrishna Paramahamsa. He went to the Himalayas. He met his ancestral guru Saint Sachchidananda by chance at the Himalayas. On the advice of Saint Sachchidananda he returned to home and pardoned his mother with repentance. He accepted the love of Neeraja and started family life. He found the features of his father and grandmother in his offspring. His misery vanished.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Feb 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781482818284

Srinivasa Murthy

Author of this work is working as Superintendent in the office of the Joint Director of Agriculture,Vizianagaram(Andhra Pradesh),India. He is graduate in Science and post graduate in Philosophy and in English literature.

Book preview

Prologue

My age turned to sixteen. I was studying XI class. That day when I came from college my father’s friend Raju was in the corridor of my house. He told something to my father.

I perceived the feelings of my father and his friend. They were in serious mood. I went inside my house. I put my college bag on study table.

My mother came. I asked her What’s the matter?

She replied that my grandmother’s health was in serious condition.

I stunned at her reply. I came out to enquire my father’s friend. I was anxious about my grandmother’s condition. But he went to bring a taxi. I could not dare to ask my father since he was feeling gloomy at her position.

Raju brought taxi. We all got in.

The taxi stopped at my paternal uncle’s house within one hour. My paternal uncle resided at P.B.Varam village.

In the corridor of the house my grandmother was rested on a mat. Around her body paternal uncle, Ramana and his family gathered. Neighbouring people were clustered in the corridor.

My father, my mother and I went near to the place where my grandmother laid.

My father, my mother and the family member’s of Ramana wept aloud. My aunt’s family also came and fell down beside us with grief after sometime.

I could understand that my grandmother was no more. I cried my heart out.

The next day early morning funeral performed to my grandmother’s dead body.

We returned after some days.

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My family was in sorrow mood. I couldn’t bear the grief.

My father, my mother and I went to Saint Sachchidananda.

My father told about our misery to the saint.

He advised my father to do prayer for the soul of my grandma to attain peace.

The saint said that we were not separated from the dead person. My grandmother was here about us all the time. The only separation was the limitation of our consciousness. We had not lost our beloved relatives but the power to see them. It was quite possible if we raised our consciousness we can see them and talk with them as before.

The saint asserted us to do some practices led a way to tranquilization. They were relating to devotion and meditation. He said that through these two ways man could reach the Divine.

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Chapter-1

Yes! I am mystic. I replied to her.

We were in a garden near the Bay of Bengal located in a city named Visakhapatnam. The sultry atmosphere caused inconvenience to us. The hot mid-day Sun burnt away the day. I noticed the feelings of Neeraja. I was unable to see her fierce countenance. She wore purple red sari and same colour matching blouse. I wore white trouser and white shirt because the cloths reduced the heat affected to my body caused by the hot summer day. Desert silence spread out in the garden. The ground in it very dried and hot. Weathered grass scattered everywhere on the ground.

Both we stood under a mango tree. Neeraja requested me to meet her there. She was about to talk something with me. But the atmosphere was too oppressive to bear. I had puzzled before we met in the garden. What was the very important matter that she wanted to talk with me? I did not understand. What was the passion burn away her I did not know? She invited me with sudden exhilaration to the garden and she wanted to reveal something. Now she revealed it.

I was dragged into an abnormal state of confusion when she expressed her desire. Neeraja was my best friend. We first met in Andhra University at College of Engineering. She was pretty. Every student in the college captured at her charming beauty. I never felt so like as them.

She felt shy as I approached her in the garden. I prodded about our meet. She expressed that she had fallen in love with me from two years. I amazed at her words. A kind of strangeness thrust into my mind. My pulse started to tremble and I felt my heart pounding. She eagerly loved me and asked to marry her. It was the reason why she asked like that. I was immaculate. I never had such type of views.

I often thought that I would no longer be a naïve. It was my absurdity. I was a stark naïve.

I hesitated. But she was not. She expressed her views without hesitation. Her views, ideas and manner were different from that of mine. I liked her nothing else but a friend. She boldly spoke with me. I was such a man that appreciated neither her love nor her boldness. I was so stupid neither to receive her love nor to reject her friendship.

Neeraja anxiously looked into my eyes. I was perplexed. Her looks dragged me into an unmitigated romantic world. I bowed. I did not want the world now. I could not express the reason. I longed to remain as bachelor for some more days. I was attracted by the speeches of mystics. The impact might be the cause of the aversion. I averted her love.

I want to be a bachelor for some more days. I replied to her.

She knew about my interests. She understood about my enthusiasm in the hearing of the speeches of mystics from our college days.

Don’t be a mystic. Become romantic. She advised me.

How can I… ?

Don’t you have a loving heart? Are you mystic? She chided.

Yes! I am mystic. I replied to her.

A haze of fury blazed when I refused her request. Stillness shrouded everywhere in the garden.

She was raged and peered