Thanking Nisargadatta

The dismal alley stank of sewage and garbage. As I
approached the house, a stray dog slunk away, its
eyes full of fear. It was an emaciated young dog,
almost a puppy. Stray dogs don’t grow old in
Bombay. I gave a sigh of relief as I entered the
narrow stairwell smelling of dust and cheap incense.
Going up, the steps groaned menacingly under my
weight.

In a small second floor room sat an old man dressed in
white. The massive head with prominent cheekbones
seemed misplaced on his frail body. The moment I
entered, he opened his eyes and stared at me without
surprise, or any hint of inquiry.

The eyes dwarfed the head, as the head did the body.
From then on, I only saw the piercing eyes, as if,
disembodied, they floated in the room’s penumbra.
After my salutation, he gestured toward a cushion.

“Where do you come from?” he asked.

“I come from the future.”

He laughed, and his chest rumbled with phlegm. The
laugh sputtered, and then, exploded into a fitful cough.

“I have no future.” he said in a strangled voice.

“Your words do. In the future your words will be read
by millions. They will liberate hundreds of people.”

“They are not my words, and I’m not interested in
those imaginary hundreds. Have those words liberated
you?”

“Yes, they have, and I thank you.”

He laughed again, but cut it short and clearing his throat
with a painful grimace, said, “If you were truly liberated,
would there be any need to thank someone who never
existed?”

Now was my turn to laugh. “Yes, I see what you mean.
That would be the only way liberation could work. To
liberate one individual at a time is a hopeless task. Once
the dreamer awakes, all the dream characters are seen
as unreal.”

“Nevertheless, you are still trying to awaken the
characters in the dream,” he said.

“Yes, I am. Does it mean that I’m not awake yet?”

“You are dreaming that you are awake, the dream still
goes on.”

“But wait, you are fully awake and you still teach.”

“I exist and teach only in your dream.”

“So, when will the dream end?”

“The day the body dies.”

“You mean I had no need to study and meditate all
these years that I could have had any dream I wanted?”

“No. There is no ‘you’ apart from the dream, and there
is no other dream, but this one.”

“Well, If I am the dream, I will that you get well, and
live as long as I do.”

He laughed and began to cough again. “Get out,” he
yelled. “You’re an idiot. Get out. Out!”

His cough echoed behind me as I hurried downstairs.

5 Responses to “Thanking Nisargadatta”

  1. maurizio Says:

    🙂
    BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!!!!!

    🙂

    love, M

  2. keith Says:

    I’m from the future……hahahaah lol

    great stuff

    you write very well

    Nisargadatta would celebrate this i think!

    ps ok to share with my facebook buddies ???

  3. cerosoul Says:

    P: Sure, thanks. Share away.

  4. keith Says:

    Done !

    and great to see you are on facebook.

    I look forward to our developing e friendship

  5. Manu Namasivayam Says:

    A comprehensive site exclusively for Nisargadatta Maharaj. With more than 200 pages, it includes all books, hundreds of rare photos, videos, print-size portraits, and many more.
    Visit : http://nisargadatta.co.cc/

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