Worlds in all (dimensions and planes - “Ullagam yavayum”) and in their entirety by a mere wish are being created,sustained and annihilated continuously in endless cycles and are performed effortlessly with utmost ease as if in infinite number of sports (“Allhavilla vilayatudayan”) by one Person,and to that One,we bow our heads (in surrender) says the 12th century Tamil Saint-Poet Kamban right in the beginning of his masterpiece ‘Kamba Ramayanam’.Many luminaries even earlier had rightly presumed that life is indeed a play a game as also pointed out quite recently by the English Bard: “All the world is a stage…” (‘As You Like It’).
To understand a game one needs to get involved in it and to understand the Lord’s play what better way is there
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In fact ‘Agni Hothra’ which is an ancient sacred Fire-worship and sacrificial-ritual is greatly respected and followed even now in Germany and in the U.S. They know that by burning cow-dung soaked in pure ‘ghee’ or clarified butter with a few grains of raw rice in an inverted pyramid-shaped copper-vessel the surrounding air is greatly purified,O3 is generated along with opening up of multi dimensions of space whereby various unknown rays nullify the effects of poisonous gases (and even nuclear radiation) as were proved in the recent infamous ‘Bhopal gas tragedy’ when thousands of people died while two families escaped the deadly onslaught because they diligently practiced the sacred …show more content…
Karl like his dad earlier had gone for a stroll all alone at the base of the Pothigai Mountain similarly at dusk and was in a shola which is a thick jungle covered with a canopy made of gigantic trees. Even as it was getting quickly dark,he saw something glimmer at a distance within the confines of the leafy jungle and he stopped to concentrate better. Ahead at a distance of roughly hundred feet or so he saw a short-statured bearded radiant-being crossing his path. When he had a clearer view,he could see that the figure had a halo that was golden-yellow in color,seemed to glide above the earth and he had such a tremendous magnetic-pull that dried leaves that littered the ground floated behind him for a distance before falling back to earth. Karl could see even the dried leaves shimmering in the proximity of the radiance that emitted from the seer. When karl reached the exact spot where the seer had crossed his path he could see that the dry leaves on the ground still retained some of the glow which slowly faded out. When Karl tried to call out to the quickly disappearing figure,to his surprise nothing emanated from his mouth and all that he remembered was the seer as he later learnt chanting ‘Siva Siva’ as he glided ahead with what seemed to be closed
Unlike the Buddha, though, Candide has to learn these painful lessons over and over. Candide, who “was trembling like a philosopher” throughout the enormous battle in which tens of thousands died, shortly afterward appears to have forgotten the trauma when he tells another that “… all events are linked by the chain of necessity and arranged for the best” (104). Gradually, however, he frequently looks outside his paradigm for answers. The perfection of El Dorado prompts him to question Pangloss’ teaching that every scenario is the best possible, and he swears off metaphysico-theologico-cosmoloonigology for good after his exchange with the disfigured slave on arriving in Surinam (131).
...ed through one’s own experiences. He carefully notes that he also could not understand the purpose in the first event of tree gazing until he discovered the green female. Furthermore, he explained that not only could he not disclose much of the events in the initiation, a six week long process, but also most involved so much intensity that it would be impossible to manifest his feelings in words.
The play is an eternal challenge, a lock with many keys, none of which ever fits perfectly. Every interpretation presents just a portion of the possibilities. Every new version opens up new vistas, without limiting further experimentation. Every generation comes, looks, and studies the play, but never comes up with all the answers.
“For the first time in over a hundred years a drop of rain fell on the empty lake” (225, Sachar)
Along time ago there was a boy named Walter he was next to the river. Walter was watching the tinted blue water as night fell. He saw a beam of light from inside. He ran towards it when he tripped and fell into the water. He started to drown as he coughed on the rocky water. He could see his brown dusty cap drifting away. Walter thought about his wife who had died at the same spot. Walter screamed, but couldn’t be heard from anywhere. As the beam of light got smaller and smaller all he could see was Lidtke Mill. Walter went under the water. Walter woke up on the side of the bank having no idea how he got there. When he sat up and looked toward the mill he saw a woman in a white flowery dress walking into the mist towards the mill. Walter felt like he should follow the woman in white.
Predestination, fate and density are nonexistent. There is no higher power forcing one’s self to take a certain route; God has not chosen a destination for anyone. Every human has the ability to decide his/ her course of action. It is free will that will lead to doom or salvation. This paper will explore the idea of predestination in relevance to the play No Exit as well as in the context of the day to day life of the average individual.
The cloudless night sky revealed the sparkling stars. The towers off in the distance flash all colours imaginable. The light beside me emitted just enough light so that only I am illuminated. I raised my palm with little effort and the light started to peel off the lamp and float in the air. I wiggled my fingers like the puppeteer does with his puppets. It’s like a galaxy dancing around in front of my face. All this was the most beautiful thing I have seen in his life but it felt like I was excluding myself from humanity. I stared at the sky intently as if wanting something to happen, and something did. One star, getting bigger and brighter. Only then did I realise that it wasn’t a star, it was a meteor and it was heading straight for the
Then the Sky Spirit took his walking stick, stepped from a cloud to the peak, and walked down to the mountain. When he was about halfway to the valley below, he began to put his finger to the ground here and there, here and there. Wherever his finger touched, a tree grew. The snow melted in his footsteps, and the water ran down in rivers.
One day, there was a man, walking through the woods to get back home. The man had quite a way to go to get back home but, it was getting late, and all he had was a flashlight, a small knife, and a video recorder. The man was hearing weirder and weirder noises as he was walking, he was also starting to see weird shapes in the distance, almost as if it was a tall thin man looking at him with tentacle like things coming out of his back, and spreading in the air.
As my father and I went into town to fight off more misery for the mortals, there was a cloud that we have been fighting off for two days, but it still returns. Exhausted, I was ready to drop, but the cloud continued to grow. Covering town after town. When it seemed to me that it was hopeless, I saw a bright blue spot in the sky. From cloud to could, they were finally clearing up.
...es his "meditation". Before visions appear, there are flashes and disturbances in color, which are not explainable. The visions often follow a sequence from geometric figures to unfamiliar objects that vary with the individual.
It was a beautiful night. It was perfect for a walk. As I strolled further into the park a figure approached me. It was as dark as pitch so I couldn’t make out who it was. It was late; you wouldn’t usually see anyone at this time. My heart was beating faster and faster. The strange thing was I wasn’t frightened; it was just my heart beating rapidly. As the masculine figure approached, I began to walk slower. That was when I heard the voice.
the play to be viewed not as a separate and distinct entity from the natural world but simply as a
Sri Nandanandana, “Preaching in India’s Northeast For Cultural Preservation” VaiShnava News February 21, 2003; Retrieved information Dec. 9,2003 http://www.vnn.org/world/WD0302/WD21-7837.html
I looked up at the black sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights. I knew I was in for a dark journey home. I had decided that by traveling through the forest would be the quickest way home. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours and days. The farther I traveled into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. I was very had to even take a breath due to the stifling air. The only sound familiar to me was the quickening beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to come through my chest. I began to whistled to take my mind off the eerie noises I was hearing. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be seeing these long finger shaped shadows that stretched out to me. I had this gut feeling as though something was following me, but I assured myself that I was the only one in the forest. At least I had hoped that I was.