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Shraadh means Shraddhanjali, not superstition.

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Aayush Tiwari –

Our ancestors when said said ‘Ram bulawa aa gaya’ it meant we are now dying, but you attain immortality before death knocks. Shraddh means shraddhanjali not superstition. A tribute to them who passed away and an alarm that we have to pass away too.

The attainment of that immortal, eternal soul which reverberates inside such a limited time we mortals have to access it. Shraddh reminds us this. But so fettered we are in the dates, the directions, the panchang, that we never reach till the crux . An industry has taken birth on YouTube that tells what to wear , what to hear what to tear capitalising fears . Oh what a ‘ spiritual ignorance’!.

“Raat gavai soye ke, diwas gavayo khaye.
Heera janma amol tha, kaudi badle jaye.”

Such rigorous rituals such technical ‘karmkands’, do they convey the hidden message of pitrpaksh? The Garur Puran and all such things that terrify, even from them do we catch the symbolic message that body will burn some day. We are dying said our ancestors so learn from our death and search for that that is immortal. That fire can’t burn, the Atman. (Nainam chidanti shashtrani, nai dahanti ch pavakah).

Do we take a pause as the priest recites so mechanically in Sanskrit and we move like bots without understanding a single word.

“Take the coconut, break it open on your head. Mahesh, Ramesh, Suresh, now tell god your address , your wish, your constellation” . So you will tell god, the antaryami the omnipresent your address? But the priest goes on and on and your ignorance follows them.

They tell to offer the dead dead their favourite food. Taste is a sensory activity and you are dragging the soul back to mrityulok, within the prison of sensory apparatus. Your body is still a slave of your sense organs and you want the bodyless to come and get enslaved too. Such is your love?

Son, soul has nothing to do with your pity mundane desires that impress you so much. You value your jeans and your saris so much that you offer the soul the same from which now it is mukt. You must have heard about mukti, you must have heard about moksha but who will tell you only these desires are the ones that keep you hijacked. Liberation is from this temporary nature of everything that exists in time and space and to get dissolved in the infinite divinity that is formless.

Pahan puje Hari milen to mai pujun pahar.

Tahe se chakki bhali, pees khaye sansaar .

Kabir

Bal mudae Hari mile to har koi mor muraye,

Baar baar ke mor se kya bher na baikunth jaye.

Rahim.

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