An experience as narrated by one of the friends of Sri Virendra Qazi Ji, very inspirational. Do read on..... I would like to share an experience I had many years ago in Chittorgarh in Rajasthan where I spent a number of days as an Election Expenditure Observer. The District Administration had housed me at the Hindustan Zinc Guest House, which offered a cosy retreat after a tiring day of roaming around in various areas in temperatures of over 42 degrees. One evening, I was alone, seated at a table. There was nothing much to do. Outside it was till hot and suffocating. I was wondering what to do to kill time. Suddenly, my attention was taken in completely by a small bouquet of roses, placed in the middle of the table kept in my room. As I kept looking, I could feel a kind of connection building up from within with one particular rose, which was specially large and beautiful. Amidst so much of heat and dry climate, the rose appeared a model of composure and grace. As the connection between us deepened, there were a series of revelations. I began to appreciate and understand many things about the rose -- its journey from the seed to the flower; its gratitude for mother earth that had provided a fertile nestling; the gardener who had provided tender care. It also occurred to me that having gained flowering and having been plucked from the plant the rose knew that soon it will lose its charm. Its taut and healthy petals will turn flaccid and will fall; and then it will time for this rose to be taken away from the pride of place in the bouquet in the Guest House and be thrown into the garbage bin. I could see that though the rose knew all this it had no rancour, no complaints against fate. All these were great teachings, being received first hand. The rose was my Guru then and there. I was completely mesmerized. One hour of this wonderful absorption ended only when the attendant arrived to announce that dinner had been laid in the dining hall. I gratefully thanked the rose and took its leave. The next morning I noticed the rose had begun shedding petals. Yet, it was there - quiet and graceful, absorbed in its own existence, oblivious of the fact that it was about to thrown away. That evening when I arrived at the Guest House, the bouquet was gone. As I inquired the attendant told me that there because of excessive heat there were not enough flowers to be placed in the rooms. There was no more bouquets in the room during the remaining days of my stay. Yet, I looked at the empty space on the table and silently pranaamed to my Guru of Chittorgarh many a time during the remainder of my stay.
Posted on: Fri, 27 Sep 2013 07:34:28 +0000
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