Amit managed one of the largest investment funds in Mumbai. As a hotshot banker, with no financial constraints, he had almost everything that life could offer. His family life was wonderful too – a good wife and two nice children and his father.But he felt over exhausted working too much and thereby loosing required sleep.
He experienced a sense of emptiness despite his wealth and social standing. Often, he felt like he was living in a cage! “What is the purpose of life? What happens when we die?”, these questions gnawed at him. He desperately sought the answers that wealth couldn’t buy. While in this quandary, he heard of a guru who lived in the wild. He was a man of wisdom who didn’t seek followers but accepted those with a true thirst for knowledge.
“That’s the one I must meet”, resolved Amit.
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Amit set out on a long journey without informing anyone,just like the prince of Kapilavastu did ,thousands of years ago to seek answers.
His quest took him through forests,mountains, valleys and across rivers.That fateful day he arrived at a Smasan,the cremation ground.There amidst the flickering flames and the pungent smell of burning flesh , stood the guru.The old man was an enigma : bare foot , draped in tattered cloth , yet having a glow in his face with the wisdom of age.
Amit approached him cautiously. “Guruji , I have been searching for answers.The world seems hollow for me.I am in search of enlightenment.Please bless me with your guidance.”
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The sage looked at him with a soft smile , and motioned him to sit beside him.Amit hesitated to sit near a pyre , yet he obeyed.
“You seek answers” , the guru said in a deep resonant voice. ” But answers are not given.They are earned. You will learn if only you are willing to face that which you fear most.”
Amit , not sure of what was going to happen , nodded in agreement. The sanyasi asked him to help him in burning the corpses. With much reluctance Amit bengan to assist. He dragged charred remains , he stacked firewoods , helping the grieving family in lighting the flames. The guru also taught how to handle death with dignity and offer respect to the departed souls.Days stretched into months.By that time Amit had tuned himself to the ways of the Smasan.He had been preparing pyres , cleaning the ash and everything required there.
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One evening, in the approaching darkness while the fire licked the night air, Amit was sitting beside his Guru and reflected out loud, “I have realized here, everything is impermanent. Life and death are the two sides of the same coin. Those who are born, are sure to die. Guruji looked at him and said, “Yes my son, but you have not yet learned the final lesson”. Amit thought what could it be. May be Guruji will teach me about the soul. Once he had mentioned that man is mortal but the atma (soul) is immortal.
Guruji motioned to the burning pyre in front of them. “Amit, the fire that consumes the body is only external. Do you know there is a fire that burns within you? It is the fire of desire, the fire of ego and the fire of illusion, it’s called maya . For thousands of years, humankind has been burning from within and has been suffering. With death everything is lost. Your karma by your deeds, good or bad are carried away by the soul.”
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Amit understood, the deeper meaning of life he was searching was a product of his mind’s ego. His entire life till date was spent with him chasing after material wealth, pleasure and recognition. At the Smasan he found the truth. Before burning to the ash, we had been burning inside the whole life by the fire of ambition, identity and competition. Oh, that’s why he was unhappy.He had wanted more and more.Ther was no end to desires.
Staying there Amit’s fear of death had gone. But he thought that it was not death we should fear, rather, we should fear the living of a life filled with delusion. At that quiet moment a shadow passed over his face. He remembered his wife, his children, his wealth and his entire life. He had come so far, leaving everything behind, in search of truth. He had understood that everything was maya (illusion). Could he go back to his regular life, and continue, but this time without being consumed by the illusions of the world? Could he stay detached like the proverbial lotus leaf, which floats on water but doesn’t get wet?
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As the last embers of the pyre flickered, Amit stood up. His heart was heavy but his mind was clear. It was time to go back home. It seemed an age he was away from his usual life. He bowed deeply to the guru. Both of them said nothing. The guru placed his hand on Amit’s head and silently gave his blessing.
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On the journey back home, Amit was pondering about all the things he would change in his life, starting with a different job that brought real impact to the world, even if it didn’t pay as much; guide his children away from the rat race of scoring high marks in competitive exams and start enjoying the joys of childhood; spending more time with his wife, sharing pleasant moments and less time arguing about relatively trivial things.
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The joy of nearly reaching home was interrupted by the sight of a crowd assembled in front of his apartment building.They were all his relatives.
What had happened?
As he entered his house he witnessed a shradhha ceremony was going there. A big photo of him was kept on a flower decorated pedestal.He heard his father saying among sobs, “exactly on this day my Amit left home twelve years ago.No message and no information about him since long twelve years .To symbolically mark his death and honour his memory this Shraddha has to be done.”
