DEATH OF PRANAV A STUDENT

RW -2. [Random Writings. Book 7.Part 38. Pages 01.to.7.]

My God, kind thou art, Be kind, I prostrate.

Pranav, meaning aum, the sound that is played as a permanent reveb, so softly in the background like a faint tempura, turned so strong at times to be heard in the roaring winds of March in Mysore and even the tsunami of tears which engulfed many at times.

Pranavam, the echoing of an eternal process of making, keeping and destroying all these analysed at the macro, micro nano, pico and still minute, My Lord, and more deeper where truth prevailed and love filled like a lake echoing the Pramavam, the greatest of all mantras, reverberated in light tones, I prostrate before that the devata.

Praramathma devata, I say it holding folded fingers in my chest, the cage of bones which cover my heart. Yes, the pumping instrumentwhich echoed the seconds ding dong, dub lub. It went on echoing thus in the heart where like light it shined.

Also I prostrate before Pranav, this Xth Std. boy, an excellent example of a student turning teacher. My young shy boy, you grew up in front of me, and grew old and wrinkled and lost interests. No, Sir, no TV, he said. Music? No. Don’t you go out and sit and see nature? This he said ‘Yes’ and looked at me. Ms. Mercy, his class teacher promised to pass him. And in those eyes I saw the retirement, aging, being in bed, the sudden growth of the self and the soul – something that happens to all, the drawing oneself into oneself stage, when like an ‘exhausted falcon, directs itself towards its nest only, even so the infinite entity hasten to the state where, falling asleep’ it takes no desire and sees no dream’ [BU 4.3.19]. I saw him growing, so fast, faster than me, an aging schoolmaster and I prostate before the boy who went ahead, looked in my eyes and taught how the rhythms elaborated in calendars, the time as we call it, stretching and shrinking and in a sudden flash made him grow into the ultimate of all growth and in that twist of the moment changed him into a teacher like UC. [Dr. Chandrasekharayya], my teacher. Pranams to him. Pranams to Pranav, my boy, you go with my son and be happy there doing errands in heaven.