a start I woke up. Someone was knocking at my door. I opened the door and saw
a sight that filled me with wonder and awe. There stood a middle-aged man at the door. He had a small bundle of what appeared
to be books and clothes on one shoulder, and a box, which appeared to be a case for a musical instrument on the other shoulder.
A few steps behind him ... stood the man from my visions.
was wearing a yellow robe, wooden slippers and a blue turban. Although His robe was faded and old, He looked like a king of
all kings. Although His beard was mostly white, His face was filled, nay, overflowing with youthfulness. Although His eyes were half-closed and hidden in the dark, a thousand suns could not match their brilliance;
a thousand moons could not match their serenity; a thousand kings could not match their splendor.
I sank to my knees and bowed. Without a word they both entered my hut and sat on the bed. I was quite dumb-folded and tongue-tied.
I just kept staring at Him. At times, I would quickly glance at His face, but it proved to be too intense an experience for
me and I would quickly avert my glance back to His feet. I wanted to say words of welcome, I wanted to thank Him for being
there, I wanted to ask for forgiveness for my sinful being, but my throat would not, could not form words.
His signal, the man with the instrument opened it up and started playing it. Ah,
the wonderful music captivated me. Then ... He sang.
song entered me, nay, flooded and imprisoned me. I drank His song and lost my thirst. His song opened the dam of tears in
me and I wept. With One note of His song, He gave me enough to fill my life, With one note of His song, I was drenched in
bliss. With one note of His song, my thoughts ceased. With one note of His song,
my soul separated from the pained and diseased body. He sang about light. He
sang about darkness that enveloped me. He sang about the world within. He sang
about sorrow-less and death-less truth. He sang about sorrows and death of untruth. He sang about becoming truth. He sang
about merging within. He sang about the wonderful naam. He sang about the blissful naami, the utterer of naam. He
sang about One, One, One, One, One, One, One, One... After hearing these songs, I heard songs of silence. I was in freedom.
My beard was literally drenched with tears of repressed emotions.
a word, His companion filled a bowl he was carrying with water from my water pitcher and started reciting verses. Whereas
the songs were wrapped in love and longing, the verses were wrapped in wisdom and One's greatness. I listened. I felt wise
and clean. For the first time in my life I felt pure. At that time everything
was pure, my clothes, my hut, and the forest around us. Blessed was my bed, which was serving them - the angels of One. How
fortunate was His companion. Throughout the songs and recitation the companion gazed at His face with intent of a child looking
at his mother. I found myself gazing at His companion's face. Whereas His face was like the sun - much too bright for me –
His companion's face resembled the moon. It was quite a moment. I, staring at the moon, the moon staring at the sun and the
sun focused on the One.
companion finished the verses, then took the bowl of water to His Masters feet and dipped His Masters toe in the water. The companion motioned me to drink the water.
To my surprise, it was sweet. I gulped it down. Never had I tasted such contentment. I felt intoxicated. I felt I belonged
to Him, and He to me. I felt His love, His grace, I felt Him in me. He leaned towards me, and in my ear whispered “Wahe
A thousand bright suns dawned
A thousand blissful winds blew
A thousand colorful flowers
bloomed in me,
A thousand joyful fountains
sprang up in me,
A thousand celestial chords
played within me,
A thousand angels sang in me.
All the suns, winds, flowers,
in chorus with the angels sang
waheguru waheguru waheguru
waheguru waheguru waheguru
waheguru waheguru waheguru
waheguru waheguru waheguru waheguru waheguru waheguru waheguru waheguru waheguru waheguru waheguru....
Sunlight on my face brought me back to this world. They had departed. A pain shot through my body at seeing
the bed empty. For a moment I wanted to run and find Him, but the quietness of
the trees told me they had already gone too far.
Slowly I got up from the spot in which I had spent the whole joyful night. What a night, I thought; the trees
were certainly justified in singing about spring. He was spring. For a brief moment I thought this was all a dream. Perhaps
I was still in a dream. But instantly I realized this was real - on the bed lay
a small book. With excitement, I picked it up. It was the verses His companion had recited. Although I didn't know the language
it was written in, I still could read it because it was in a language similar to one I knew. The verses written were the same
ones His companion had recited and they were deeply embedded within me.
I quickly read the first page. I turned the page. My heart missed a beat. It wasn't the book but the sight of
my hand. Its sores were dry. I carefully put the book back on the bed and with trembling hand and heart examined my body.
Yes, all my sores were either dry or were getting dry. He had cured me. He, the angel of the One, had cured me. He had come
to my unclean abode and purified me. Tears welled up in me when I thought of His mercy.
Me, a sinner's sinner, an unclean, nay, filthy untrue animal had been touched by His grace. I bowed to the book, I
lovingly kissed it, I pressed it against my heart.