The wailing reed conveys this message of love. The Grand Master is coming. He willnow play the lute himself, and also teach others this divine art. The Grand Master learntthis art from the Creator Himself when he was created.I sit hours in the middle of the field, meditating, while Tagore sings his beautiful songs tome. This reminds me of the time when I used to learn music from the Grand MasterHimself. He taught me what was right and wrong, what is beautiful, and how to ‘make’everything beautiful. But then, because of my disobedience, he refused to teach meanymore. But now, I find myself like Adam; find in Tagore a friend, from whom I canlearn the words of the Maestro. My repentance and obedience to Tagore will certainlyopen the windows to my Master’s mercifulness. I can recall the songs of the Master,when Tagore sings his own. And I, feeling the great quality of Master’s songs, also makehim aware at times when his voice trembles a bit. While yesterday, Tagore was singinghis song to me, ‘Where art Thou my lover, why dost thou hide in the shadows?’ I toldhim that Master always told me that ‘Lover and Beloved were ‘one’ and ‘inseparable’.Both see from each other’s eyes, and suffer the pain, which the other suffers’. Tagore saidto me, ‘ how can you say that I and your Grand Master speak of the same Lover?’ And Ireplied ‘does it require eyes to see that truth, or a tongue to speak of such love? It onlyrequires a heart to feel that same love, of the same Lover.’ And he smiled.Now, Tagore was losing his consciousness, as I had seen my Master several times whenHe spoke of the Beloved. And He used to call it ‘Sema’. So, Tagore being in the sameecstasy, started to sing another song, “my song has put off her adornments, she has nopride of dress and decoration. They will come between thee and me and mar our union.Their jingling would drown thy whispers.” Now this, I told him, was the same thoughtthat my master gave to me, when He said, “there is no room for two in my house, andneither is there enough food for two. Come inside if you come as ‘myself’”. Again,Tagore gave a smile. And I, not being a good ‘Mind’ reader (but only heart), could notcomprehend the meaning hidden within. Both of us drank the wine from the crystalglasses, which Tagore had brought along with him. Though it was two of us, still wecould feel the presence of the Maestro, and also our Beloved.Today, again I am sitting in the field, and in my vertigo I can hear the sound of the lute. Itseems to be the Maestro playing Himself; such is the grandeur of the tune. Is it really theGrand Master? Has he returned? Oh, my soul, blessed be my life, which is honored againto receive the blessings of my Master. And look at Tagore, following Him, learning toplay the same tune, but unable to keep up the momentum of music with the Master.Though Tagore’s tune takes me into another world, but my Grand Master’s words bringParadise to me.My grand master once said to me, ‘this world’s a children’s game, and how can anyonebe called an adult until he leaves the children’s play’. Tagore said the same thing in thesewords, ‘ a child who wears silken clothes and gold ornaments, loses all joy in his play’.Both speak of the same reality, Tagore carrying forward the message of Grand master.2
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