Time Cooks All Beings

‘In this cauldron fashioned from delusion, with the sun as fire and day and night as kindling wood, the months and seasons as the ladle for stirring, Time cooks all beings; this is the simple truth.’ – The Mahabharata

Poetic discouragement on a grand scale. So why have these words left me feeling so bizarrely cheerful this morning? I remember our yoga teacher Rajiv Chanchani, eyes lit with urgency, “We are being cooked, cooked in the fires of existence — shall I put that on a t-shirt for you?” Inimitable Rajiv with his show-no-mercy intolerance for the rampant commercialization of yoga in the West, and his regular “dont be a fool and forget you are going to die someday’ invocations (he reminds me, in that latter regard of Nipun, of course).

It’s 38 degrees Celcius — 100.4 degrees Farenheit — in Madurai today, and there’s been a power cut. The metaphor has leaped to life. We are cooking in a cauldron.

Doing yoga this morning, before the day’s note-taking, interviews, observation visits, I feel the solidified fact of the body’s slumber and inertia gradually loosen its hold. “You are not a body –you are an embodiment,” once again Raiv’s crisp, cultivated vioce in my head, “An embodiment on physical, mental, emotional and spiritual planes.” A waking awareness begins to filter through and past the body’s dawn resistance. Unfurling is a brilliant word, and a beautiful action. An instinctive opening, an intuitive release. I feel my body — my embodiment, unfurling in its own fledgling way. I experience, to some greater degree than before, the happening change.

It doesn’t matter that there is no electricity, and that I am therefore doing yoga at an unintentional Bikram-style temperature. It doesn’t matter that later, when I sit down to meditate in that warm blanket of unmoving air, on the physical plane I am decidedly uncomfortable.

This morning I feel a tremendous buoyancy of spirit that is unusally willing to experience cauldron climes. I think of Viral who is on Day 19 of his 30 day retreat. Sometimes it’s like thinking of a still lake. As I type this, he is sitting silent in a cell somewhere. He too is ‘cooking’ — and facing the truth of that head on, with crossed legs and closed eyes.

 “Time cooks all beings.”

To glimpse the unvarnished truth about our human condition can sometimes be a paradoxically comforting and oddly empowering thing.


One thought on “Time Cooks All Beings

  1. Rish says:

    Awesome awesome post!

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