The Croakings of an Old Toad -- 3

 About the number of breaths per minute, a very prominent spiritual guru says that if one’s breath becomes seven, the person comes to know everything that is worth knowing in the game of mother existence. The body turns very stable. In this stillness, there is no rustle. One simply perceives everything. The body still perceives because if not for this one cannot exist. One might not be aware of it, but one’s body perceives precisely the manner the earth’s spinning, what is going in the sun, how and why happenings are going around. As long as one is alive, one’s body keeps adjusting to all this wonderful phenomena.

I don't know how to put it. My breathing rate at rest is seven breaths per minute. But far from feeling the divinity of it, as the great guru says, I feel as restless and ignorant as ever. I mean I remember my journey from 12 breaths/minute to the present rate. But as far as feeling is concerned, it’s the same. The bliss is missing. I still lack that crucial experiential dimension of knowledge. All the knowledge I possess seems theoretical and worthless. The entire set of stuff crammed in the mind is worthless unless one enters the experiential dimension. Till then all are same, be it a doctorate in philosophy or an illiterate beggar.

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Try to be a bird that enjoys perching upon the scarecrow itself. In easy lingo, s(h)it on your fears and bury them with the unwanted extras in you.

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Do you know who has got the most benign and captivating smile in the world? It’s an old man...blind. His smile is pure...pious. Why? Because he can’t wear a mask. Or rather, he need not. He doesn’t even know what is wearing a mask all about. He shows his real self. He can’t even see others wearing masks. So that helps a lot because most of our deeds are mere compulsive imitation of others. No wonder, he has a genuine smile on a genuine face!

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