The Seed Beneath the Volcano
Vol. I, K. Rajasekhara Reddi
The number seven has played a pivotal role in the life of U.G. ever since he was born, and reveals, perhaps, the ordained plan of his destiny. During the week following the 'explosion', he noticed some fundamental changes in the functioning of his senses. The stage was set for seven baffling events.
On the first day, U.G. noticed that his skin was so soft that it felt like silk and also had a peculiar kind of glow, a golden glow. He was shaving and each time he ran the razor down his face, it slipped. He changed blades but it was no use. He touched his face—his sense of touch was different. He did not attach any significance to all this. He merely observed.
On the second day, he became aware for the first time that his mind was in a 'declutched state'. He was upstairs in the kitchen and Valentine had prepared some tomato soup. He looked at it and did not know what it was. She told him it was tomato soup. He tasted it and then he recognized it. 'That is how tomato soup tastes.' He swallowed the soup and he was back to the odd frame of mind, rather it was a frame of 'no mind'. He asked Valentine again, 'What is that?' Again she said, 'It is tomato soup.' Again U.G. tasted it. Again he swallowed and forgot what it was. He played with it for some time. It was such a funny business, this 'declutched state'.
On the third day, some friends of U.G.'s invited themselves over for dinner. He agreed to cook for them. But somehow he could not smell or taste properly. He became gradually aware that these two senses has been transformed. Every time some odor entered his nostrils, it irritated his olfactory center, in just about the same way, whether it came from an expensive scent or from cow dung, it was the same irritation. And then, every time he tasted something, he tasted the dominant ingredient only; the taste of the other ingredients came slowly, later. From that moment on, perfume made no sense to him and spicy food had no appeal for him. He could taste only the dominant spicy chili or whatever it was.
On the fourth day, something happened to his eyes. U.G. and his friends were at the Rialto restaurant in Gstaad. Here U.G. became aware of a tremendous sort of 'vistavision', like a concave mirror.
Things were coming towards him, were moving into him, as it were. And things going away from him seemed to move out from inside of him. It was such a puzzle to him, as if his eyes were a gigantic camera, changing focus without his doing anything.
Similarly, U.G. was able to see everything very clearly. He could see minute particles, also, with total clarity, he could even count the hairs on the heads of the people in the room.
When U.G. returned from the restaurant, he looked in the mirror to find that there was something odd about his eyes—they were fixed. He kept looking at the mirror for a long time and observed that his eyelids were not blinking. For almost forty-five minutes, he stared into the mirror—still no blinking of the eyes. Instinctive blinking was over for him and it still is. [In Hindu classical literature, the devtas (celestial beings) are called anime-shulu: to whom the eyes do not wink.]
Due to some other reason, from the corners of his eyes, drops of tears were secreted. In the Hindu classical literature they are called adhyatmika baashapa kanaalu: spiritual or divine tears.
On the fifth day, U.G. noticed a change in his hearing. When he heard the barking of a dog, the barking seemed to originate inside him. All sounds seemed to come from within him and not from outside. They still do. The five senses changed in five days.
On the sixth day, U.G. was lying down on a sofa. Valentine was in the kitchen. And suddenly, his body disappeared. There was 'no body' there. He looked at his hand, 'Is this my hand?' There was no actual question that the whole situation was somewhat like that. So he touched his body: nothing. He did not feel that there was anything except the touch, the point of contact. Then he called Valentine and asked, 'Do you see my body on this sofa?' She touched it and said, 'This is your body.' And yet that assurance did not give him any comfort or satisfaction. He said to himself, 'What is this funny business? My body is missing.' His body had gone away and it has never come back.
On the seventh day, U.G. was lying on the same sofa, relaxing, enjoying the 'declutched state'. Valentine would come in and he would recognize her as Valentine. She would go out of the room, then, finish, blank, 'no' Valentine. He would think, 'What is this?' He cannot even imagine what Valentine looks like.
He would listen to the sounds coming from the kitchen and ask himself, 'What are those sounds coming from inside of me?' But he could not relate to them. He had discovered that all his senses were without a coordinating mechanism inside himself, the coordinator was missing. Then, he felt something happening inside of him, the life energy drawing to a focal point from different parts of his body. He said to himself, 'Now you have come to the end of your life. You are going to die.' Then he called Valentine and said, I am going to die, Valentine, and you will have to so something with the body. Hand it over to the doctors; maybe they will use it. I don't believe in burning or burial. In your own interest you have to dispose of this body. One day it will stink. So, why not give it away?
Valentine replied, 'U.G. you are a foreigner. The Swiss government won't take your body. Forget about it.'
The dreadful movement of U.G.'s life force came to a focal point. Valentine's bed was empty. He moved over and stretched out, getting ready to die.
The person who does not fear anything in the world, trembles when death touches him. He tries to save himself by a number of ways. The desire or will to survive persists strongly. But U.G. did not feel any such fear. He took the issue of death very casually.
Valentine ignored what was going on. She left. But before she left she said, 'One day you say this thing has changed, another day you say that thing has changed and a third day you say something else has happened. What is all this U.G.? And now you say you are going to die. You are not going to die. You are all right, hale and healthy.'
In U.G., then a point arrived where it looked as if the aperture of a camera was trying to close itself. It is the only simile he can observe. The aperture was trying to close and something was there, trying to keep it open. Then after a while, there was no will to do anything, not even to prevent the aperture from closing itself. Suddenly, as it were, it closed. He did not know what happened after that. Thus, the life conked out.
This process lasted for forty-nine minutes—the process of dying. Actually, the description process of forty-nine minutes of death is entirely different from the way it occurred. In fact, this process happened at that time, beyond any description, because there was no body there, thinking in such terms.
In the connection, two important points should be observed. 'Something' is there, trying to keep it open. What is that 'something'? That 'something', from the inner layers was trying its utmost best to stop the closure of the aperture. 'It is not known what it is! At any cost, it struggled to face the death till the end. It continued to fight incessantly for forty-nine minutes. In this process, the desire to do something was missing in U.G. The will to prevent the closure of the aperture also evaporated. There was neither induction nor violation. Even if violation had been there, the idea of coming back to normalcy was not at all there for unknown reasons.
From the inner layers the 'mysterious something' fought tooth and nail to overcome the aperture to the last minute and failed. 'It' lost its battle against death.
The first point to be observed was that the will, or volition, or struggle to prevent the closure of the aperture was missing.
The second point was that even if the will or desire had been in U.G., then also, there was no idea of it coming back since 'self-entity' was missing. That means there was no desire to become alive again.
From this, a new point can be visualized. For the person who was living in the 'thought sphere', there is some unknown strong thing distinct from the will and desire.
Perhaps it is the body machine with self-propelling capacity (as an independent, autonomous entity). It fought to protect itself with its own energy, gathering and garnering all its hidden powers together, and battled in a thousand ways for forty-nine minutes with 'death' till the last strength, and at the end, it lost the battle.
In view of this observation it can be surmised that the self-built, self-propelling body (as a special and separate entity), has its own power, independent of its own, distinct from the person living in a 'thought sphere' (maybe an inbuilt, internal ventilator). It is only speculation.
Coming back to U.G's death, his hands and feet became so cold, the body became stiff, the heart beat slowed down, the breathing slowed down and there was a gasping for breath. Up to a point, he was there, his breath, his last breath, as is were, and then he was finished. What happens after that, nobody knows. There is no body to describe.
Valentine was petrified at the change in U.G.'s body. One hour ago he talked to her and now he is... How can it be? She touched the body of U.G. It was as cold as a block of ice. His legs and hands were stiff like sticks, eyes were deeply closed. No longer the pulse is throbbing. Is he dead? She would not want to believe and accept what happened to U.G. in her very presence. No! It is impossible! Unbelievable! Beads of sweat stood on her forehead inspite of it being a full moon, and a chilly day. The little curls behind her neck, clinging to her white skin, moistened with perspiration. Her mouth became dry; saliva disappeared.
How did U.G. die suddenly? For the past one week the behaviour pattern of U.G. was abnormal and odd. At last it came to an end like this? She was looking helplessly at the dead body of U.G. What to do? Her spirits were throttled. An eerie silence fell upon the room.
At this juncture, all of a sudden, breaking the horrifying atmosphere was the shrill ring of the telephone like a war drum downstairs. The tiny sisken bird who'd missed her route was hopping on the windowsill. After the sound of the phone, it flew off blindly. Who could be calling at this hour?
The landlady talked over with somebody aloud on the telephone and shouted, 'Monsieur Krishna Murthy, telephone. Telephone for you, from your friend.'
Valentine came back to her senses. She looked at the dead body of U.G., shuddered and gathered her energy to rush down the stairs to receive the phone.
'This is Douglas, speaking from Gstaad. I want to talk to U.G.,' the caller said in a baritone voice.
'No! Douglas, I am sorry he cannot come,' she replied feebly.
'What happened to him? Please call him urgently. I must talk to him right now,' he insisted on a firm note.
'No, Douglas, something happened to U.G. His body is not moving,' she uttered timidly.
'Is it something serious? What is up? Somehow I want to talk to him,' he pleaded.
Valentine was trying to give some excuse in her own way. But Douglas was not in a mood to listen to her. This went on.
At that time, in the first floor, where U.G. was lying dead, a miracle happened.
U.G., who was in eternal sleep, the sound waves of the telephone worked as an awakening call, as if sprinkled by divine nectar on the lifeless body of U.G. Was it an anabiosis? The limbs of the corpse of U.G. began to feel a pulsation. There was a microscopic movement in the entire body. It was like the blossoming of a hundred petal lotus in quick motion.
The motionless lungs of the body began to receive air, just as a pendulum of a clock begins to oscillate automatically, even without rewinding, the heart of U.G. started to beat by itself.
Consequently, the blood which was frozen in the vessels began to melt and circulate. Gradually the vital force was getting restored in the corpse. From the central point it spread all over the body.
The body of U.G. became normal and kicking, alive, as if it had a transmigration for a short period.
U.G. who died physically, literally, a few minutes ago, resuscitated back to life. It was an automatic bodily process. U.G. became conscious and touched life. Gradually all the energies were restored. Spontaneously the body of U.G. took a heavy breath and exhaled air which was very hot, as the air near the furnace sac.
Afterwards there was regular breathing and his eyes opened themselves like doors. Eyeballs began to roll but the eye lashes did not wink. U.G. appeared like a person who emerged from a tomb with fresh life. He came out from the bottom of the ocean of death.
The entire description of the revival from death of U.G. is purely speculation. The actual process must have happened in its own natural way.
U.G. got up from the cot and began to walk downstairs, as if in a stupor which was half waking and half sleeping. Zombie. His steps are the lightness of a fly, as if the foot marks are not touching the ground.
Valentine was stunned and perplexed with this sudden appearance of U.G. before her. It is impossible to describe her feelings at that moment. The sap of her energy bubbled up. 'Oh! Thank Heaven! He is alive!'
Valentine turned to U.G. 'Douglas is insisting to talk to you. I am trying to convince him, that you are not in a position to come here.' So saying, she passed the receiver to U.G.
U.G. held the receiver in his hand and felt that he was holding an abstract thing. 'Hello! Douglas, my dear boy, you can see for yourself what was happened with your own eyes. Rush immediately. Awaiting for you and added, 'You are coming, aren't you?' uttered in a different voice. 'Yea! Pushing off right now,' he replied on hearing the strange and unfamiliar voice of U.G.
Douglas hooked the phone and pondered deeply. U.G.'s voice sounded queer, very far away. It was an invitation to see the 'dead' man. What might have happened?
Saanen is at a distance of three kilometers from Gstaad. At that time there were no local trains to go there. Douglas started to walk without loss of any time. The sky was like a milky sea. He is walking through the moon-baked valleys.
The cicadas and crickets were clamouring. Acacia bushes were fluffy like ostrich plumes. Enjoying the moonlight, Douglas walked briskly, thinking about the present situation within himself.
'Today my mind was like a cat on a hot tin roof. I could not concentrate my mind on anything. I wish to do something, but at the same time, I could not understand what it is that that would be. Something is trying to transmit in its own way. Then it suddenly struck me to phone to U.G. The desire to ring him up became stronger.' It was as if an unknown power compelled him to telephone.
'When I phoned him, Valentine replied instead of U.G. She talked with a stuttering voice; she appeared very much disturbed. Later U.G. personally received the phone and ordered queerly that I should urgently come to him. What might have happened to him?'
Douglas was walking very fast. The white luminosity of the moon light enveloped the entire route, appearing like liquid silver. He was awash and soaked completely in that sparkling lily-white ambience.
He reached Chalet Pfeffynegg. The chalet was perfectly silent. Douglas entered the room of U.G. He was stunned to see the scene there. Valentine was looking white with terror and U.G. was lying on the couch in a strange posture. His body was in an arched position. In yoga this posture is called 'Dhanurasana' (the posture of the bow).
'Oh boy! What happened? Why was his body twisted as such? Douglas approached U.G. and noticed that his body turned blue, a kind of cyanosis (like the bodies of Lord Rama and Lord Krishna, as described in the ancient Indian spiritual literature).
Douglas exclaimed, 'U.G.! What is this posture of yours? Get back to normal,' while shrugging his shoulders.
U.G. slowly recovered from the odd pose, straight, and stretched himself on the couch, like a baby. After few moments he breathed heavily and rolled to a side and sat up on the couch with strange movements. Douglas observed that U.G.'s demanour appeared strange.
U.G.'s looks are blank, devoid of any feelings, remote, recluse. Douglas could observe through a window a brilliant full moon. 'U.G., look at that wonderful full moon on the peaks of the mountain there. Pulchritude at its best. Get up and watch the nature's pinnacle.'
U.G. slowly got up, walked gingerly to the window and gazed out, with his open eyes for five full minutes.
U.G. eyes riveted peculiarly towards a milky moon, a sea of moonlight, boundless, immense, seeming to grow increasingly in height and depth.
Douglas wondered at U.G.'s queer looks with awed curiosity. U.G.'s penetrating glances appeared as if he dished out, from the unknown realms of immeasurable depths, some mystery which was hidden. In its depths, his contour was contrary to commonly-known U.G.
He seemed to be unaware of the world existing in and around him. Standing very close to U.G., such a sudden flash touched Douglas's mind that U.G. became an unknown entity for a moment.
U.G. appeared like a permanently liberated personality, from the bondage of life, and as a person who broke down some secret doors of human existence.
Douglas gazed at the room's ambience and sensed something amiss. The density of the atmosphere was gloomy—eerie and sepulchral. The air was suffocating with the deathly smell of a graveyard.
'U.G! What happened here?'
'Douglas, my dear boy. Here, just now, literally, physical death took place. There is no scope for doubt in what I said. Till now, the mighty and all-powerful ego (ahamkaara) had been laminated to existence, and it's not easy to subjugate its fossilized grip. Now it has been obliterated completely,' he concluded, on a firm note.
After a pause, U.G. reiterated, sledgehammer style, 'Everything else but the body has died and some traces of the ego connected with that. This was the final and ultimate death. Now, there is no enlightenment. There is no one here to be enlightened,' he attested.
'Douglas, there is one thing that I am for certain, the search must come to an end before anything can happen.'
After some time, U.G. added, 'Douglas! My dear boy! Your telephone call made me alive again and brought me back to the world. I do not know what actually resurrected me. It is beyond the experience structure. That is all.'
On hearing U.G., Douglas was overjoyed, his joy knew no bounds. He thought to himself, 'Today is a memorable day in my life.'
Why did Douglas strongly desired to ring up to U.G.? Was it an inevitability at that particular pinpoint of time? Had not Douglas phoned, what would have happened?
In the words of the great German literary stalwart, Wolfgang Von Goethe, 'Invariably, there is a mission for every extraordinary person, there is an ordained process for him to execute—till his mission is fulfilled, he will not die even if he is shot at, even if he is dropped from a hill, he will survive, and in case he dies, he will be resurrected and he will continue the ordained mission to the end.
On the first day, U.G. noticed that his skin was so soft that it felt like silk and also had a peculiar kind of glow, a golden glow. He was shaving and each time he ran the razor down his face, it slipped. He changed blades but it was no use. He touched his face—his sense of touch was different. He did not attach any significance to all this. He merely observed.
On the second day, he became aware for the first time that his mind was in a 'declutched state'. He was upstairs in the kitchen and Valentine had prepared some tomato soup. He looked at it and did not know what it was. She told him it was tomato soup. He tasted it and then he recognized it. 'That is how tomato soup tastes.' He swallowed the soup and he was back to the odd frame of mind, rather it was a frame of 'no mind'. He asked Valentine again, 'What is that?' Again she said, 'It is tomato soup.' Again U.G. tasted it. Again he swallowed and forgot what it was. He played with it for some time. It was such a funny business, this 'declutched state'.
On the third day, some friends of U.G.'s invited themselves over for dinner. He agreed to cook for them. But somehow he could not smell or taste properly. He became gradually aware that these two senses has been transformed. Every time some odor entered his nostrils, it irritated his olfactory center, in just about the same way, whether it came from an expensive scent or from cow dung, it was the same irritation. And then, every time he tasted something, he tasted the dominant ingredient only; the taste of the other ingredients came slowly, later. From that moment on, perfume made no sense to him and spicy food had no appeal for him. He could taste only the dominant spicy chili or whatever it was.
On the fourth day, something happened to his eyes. U.G. and his friends were at the Rialto restaurant in Gstaad. Here U.G. became aware of a tremendous sort of 'vistavision', like a concave mirror.
Things were coming towards him, were moving into him, as it were. And things going away from him seemed to move out from inside of him. It was such a puzzle to him, as if his eyes were a gigantic camera, changing focus without his doing anything.
Similarly, U.G. was able to see everything very clearly. He could see minute particles, also, with total clarity, he could even count the hairs on the heads of the people in the room.
When U.G. returned from the restaurant, he looked in the mirror to find that there was something odd about his eyes—they were fixed. He kept looking at the mirror for a long time and observed that his eyelids were not blinking. For almost forty-five minutes, he stared into the mirror—still no blinking of the eyes. Instinctive blinking was over for him and it still is. [In Hindu classical literature, the devtas (celestial beings) are called anime-shulu: to whom the eyes do not wink.]
Due to some other reason, from the corners of his eyes, drops of tears were secreted. In the Hindu classical literature they are called adhyatmika baashapa kanaalu: spiritual or divine tears.
On the fifth day, U.G. noticed a change in his hearing. When he heard the barking of a dog, the barking seemed to originate inside him. All sounds seemed to come from within him and not from outside. They still do. The five senses changed in five days.
On the sixth day, U.G. was lying down on a sofa. Valentine was in the kitchen. And suddenly, his body disappeared. There was 'no body' there. He looked at his hand, 'Is this my hand?' There was no actual question that the whole situation was somewhat like that. So he touched his body: nothing. He did not feel that there was anything except the touch, the point of contact. Then he called Valentine and asked, 'Do you see my body on this sofa?' She touched it and said, 'This is your body.' And yet that assurance did not give him any comfort or satisfaction. He said to himself, 'What is this funny business? My body is missing.' His body had gone away and it has never come back.
On the seventh day, U.G. was lying on the same sofa, relaxing, enjoying the 'declutched state'. Valentine would come in and he would recognize her as Valentine. She would go out of the room, then, finish, blank, 'no' Valentine. He would think, 'What is this?' He cannot even imagine what Valentine looks like.
He would listen to the sounds coming from the kitchen and ask himself, 'What are those sounds coming from inside of me?' But he could not relate to them. He had discovered that all his senses were without a coordinating mechanism inside himself, the coordinator was missing. Then, he felt something happening inside of him, the life energy drawing to a focal point from different parts of his body. He said to himself, 'Now you have come to the end of your life. You are going to die.' Then he called Valentine and said, I am going to die, Valentine, and you will have to so something with the body. Hand it over to the doctors; maybe they will use it. I don't believe in burning or burial. In your own interest you have to dispose of this body. One day it will stink. So, why not give it away?
Valentine replied, 'U.G. you are a foreigner. The Swiss government won't take your body. Forget about it.'
The dreadful movement of U.G.'s life force came to a focal point. Valentine's bed was empty. He moved over and stretched out, getting ready to die.
The person who does not fear anything in the world, trembles when death touches him. He tries to save himself by a number of ways. The desire or will to survive persists strongly. But U.G. did not feel any such fear. He took the issue of death very casually.
Valentine ignored what was going on. She left. But before she left she said, 'One day you say this thing has changed, another day you say that thing has changed and a third day you say something else has happened. What is all this U.G.? And now you say you are going to die. You are not going to die. You are all right, hale and healthy.'
In U.G., then a point arrived where it looked as if the aperture of a camera was trying to close itself. It is the only simile he can observe. The aperture was trying to close and something was there, trying to keep it open. Then after a while, there was no will to do anything, not even to prevent the aperture from closing itself. Suddenly, as it were, it closed. He did not know what happened after that. Thus, the life conked out.
This process lasted for forty-nine minutes—the process of dying. Actually, the description process of forty-nine minutes of death is entirely different from the way it occurred. In fact, this process happened at that time, beyond any description, because there was no body there, thinking in such terms.
In the connection, two important points should be observed. 'Something' is there, trying to keep it open. What is that 'something'? That 'something', from the inner layers was trying its utmost best to stop the closure of the aperture. 'It is not known what it is! At any cost, it struggled to face the death till the end. It continued to fight incessantly for forty-nine minutes. In this process, the desire to do something was missing in U.G. The will to prevent the closure of the aperture also evaporated. There was neither induction nor violation. Even if violation had been there, the idea of coming back to normalcy was not at all there for unknown reasons.
From the inner layers the 'mysterious something' fought tooth and nail to overcome the aperture to the last minute and failed. 'It' lost its battle against death.
The first point to be observed was that the will, or volition, or struggle to prevent the closure of the aperture was missing.
The second point was that even if the will or desire had been in U.G., then also, there was no idea of it coming back since 'self-entity' was missing. That means there was no desire to become alive again.
From this, a new point can be visualized. For the person who was living in the 'thought sphere', there is some unknown strong thing distinct from the will and desire.
Perhaps it is the body machine with self-propelling capacity (as an independent, autonomous entity). It fought to protect itself with its own energy, gathering and garnering all its hidden powers together, and battled in a thousand ways for forty-nine minutes with 'death' till the last strength, and at the end, it lost the battle.
In view of this observation it can be surmised that the self-built, self-propelling body (as a special and separate entity), has its own power, independent of its own, distinct from the person living in a 'thought sphere' (maybe an inbuilt, internal ventilator). It is only speculation.
Coming back to U.G's death, his hands and feet became so cold, the body became stiff, the heart beat slowed down, the breathing slowed down and there was a gasping for breath. Up to a point, he was there, his breath, his last breath, as is were, and then he was finished. What happens after that, nobody knows. There is no body to describe.
Valentine was petrified at the change in U.G.'s body. One hour ago he talked to her and now he is... How can it be? She touched the body of U.G. It was as cold as a block of ice. His legs and hands were stiff like sticks, eyes were deeply closed. No longer the pulse is throbbing. Is he dead? She would not want to believe and accept what happened to U.G. in her very presence. No! It is impossible! Unbelievable! Beads of sweat stood on her forehead inspite of it being a full moon, and a chilly day. The little curls behind her neck, clinging to her white skin, moistened with perspiration. Her mouth became dry; saliva disappeared.
How did U.G. die suddenly? For the past one week the behaviour pattern of U.G. was abnormal and odd. At last it came to an end like this? She was looking helplessly at the dead body of U.G. What to do? Her spirits were throttled. An eerie silence fell upon the room.
At this juncture, all of a sudden, breaking the horrifying atmosphere was the shrill ring of the telephone like a war drum downstairs. The tiny sisken bird who'd missed her route was hopping on the windowsill. After the sound of the phone, it flew off blindly. Who could be calling at this hour?
The landlady talked over with somebody aloud on the telephone and shouted, 'Monsieur Krishna Murthy, telephone. Telephone for you, from your friend.'
Valentine came back to her senses. She looked at the dead body of U.G., shuddered and gathered her energy to rush down the stairs to receive the phone.
'This is Douglas, speaking from Gstaad. I want to talk to U.G.,' the caller said in a baritone voice.
'No! Douglas, I am sorry he cannot come,' she replied feebly.
'What happened to him? Please call him urgently. I must talk to him right now,' he insisted on a firm note.
'No, Douglas, something happened to U.G. His body is not moving,' she uttered timidly.
'Is it something serious? What is up? Somehow I want to talk to him,' he pleaded.
Valentine was trying to give some excuse in her own way. But Douglas was not in a mood to listen to her. This went on.
At that time, in the first floor, where U.G. was lying dead, a miracle happened.
U.G., who was in eternal sleep, the sound waves of the telephone worked as an awakening call, as if sprinkled by divine nectar on the lifeless body of U.G. Was it an anabiosis? The limbs of the corpse of U.G. began to feel a pulsation. There was a microscopic movement in the entire body. It was like the blossoming of a hundred petal lotus in quick motion.
The motionless lungs of the body began to receive air, just as a pendulum of a clock begins to oscillate automatically, even without rewinding, the heart of U.G. started to beat by itself.
Consequently, the blood which was frozen in the vessels began to melt and circulate. Gradually the vital force was getting restored in the corpse. From the central point it spread all over the body.
The body of U.G. became normal and kicking, alive, as if it had a transmigration for a short period.
U.G. who died physically, literally, a few minutes ago, resuscitated back to life. It was an automatic bodily process. U.G. became conscious and touched life. Gradually all the energies were restored. Spontaneously the body of U.G. took a heavy breath and exhaled air which was very hot, as the air near the furnace sac.
Afterwards there was regular breathing and his eyes opened themselves like doors. Eyeballs began to roll but the eye lashes did not wink. U.G. appeared like a person who emerged from a tomb with fresh life. He came out from the bottom of the ocean of death.
The entire description of the revival from death of U.G. is purely speculation. The actual process must have happened in its own natural way.
U.G. got up from the cot and began to walk downstairs, as if in a stupor which was half waking and half sleeping. Zombie. His steps are the lightness of a fly, as if the foot marks are not touching the ground.
Valentine was stunned and perplexed with this sudden appearance of U.G. before her. It is impossible to describe her feelings at that moment. The sap of her energy bubbled up. 'Oh! Thank Heaven! He is alive!'
Valentine turned to U.G. 'Douglas is insisting to talk to you. I am trying to convince him, that you are not in a position to come here.' So saying, she passed the receiver to U.G.
U.G. held the receiver in his hand and felt that he was holding an abstract thing. 'Hello! Douglas, my dear boy, you can see for yourself what was happened with your own eyes. Rush immediately. Awaiting for you and added, 'You are coming, aren't you?' uttered in a different voice. 'Yea! Pushing off right now,' he replied on hearing the strange and unfamiliar voice of U.G.
Douglas hooked the phone and pondered deeply. U.G.'s voice sounded queer, very far away. It was an invitation to see the 'dead' man. What might have happened?
Saanen is at a distance of three kilometers from Gstaad. At that time there were no local trains to go there. Douglas started to walk without loss of any time. The sky was like a milky sea. He is walking through the moon-baked valleys.
The cicadas and crickets were clamouring. Acacia bushes were fluffy like ostrich plumes. Enjoying the moonlight, Douglas walked briskly, thinking about the present situation within himself.
'Today my mind was like a cat on a hot tin roof. I could not concentrate my mind on anything. I wish to do something, but at the same time, I could not understand what it is that that would be. Something is trying to transmit in its own way. Then it suddenly struck me to phone to U.G. The desire to ring him up became stronger.' It was as if an unknown power compelled him to telephone.
'When I phoned him, Valentine replied instead of U.G. She talked with a stuttering voice; she appeared very much disturbed. Later U.G. personally received the phone and ordered queerly that I should urgently come to him. What might have happened to him?'
Douglas was walking very fast. The white luminosity of the moon light enveloped the entire route, appearing like liquid silver. He was awash and soaked completely in that sparkling lily-white ambience.
He reached Chalet Pfeffynegg. The chalet was perfectly silent. Douglas entered the room of U.G. He was stunned to see the scene there. Valentine was looking white with terror and U.G. was lying on the couch in a strange posture. His body was in an arched position. In yoga this posture is called 'Dhanurasana' (the posture of the bow).
'Oh boy! What happened? Why was his body twisted as such? Douglas approached U.G. and noticed that his body turned blue, a kind of cyanosis (like the bodies of Lord Rama and Lord Krishna, as described in the ancient Indian spiritual literature).
Douglas exclaimed, 'U.G.! What is this posture of yours? Get back to normal,' while shrugging his shoulders.
U.G. slowly recovered from the odd pose, straight, and stretched himself on the couch, like a baby. After few moments he breathed heavily and rolled to a side and sat up on the couch with strange movements. Douglas observed that U.G.'s demanour appeared strange.
U.G.'s looks are blank, devoid of any feelings, remote, recluse. Douglas could observe through a window a brilliant full moon. 'U.G., look at that wonderful full moon on the peaks of the mountain there. Pulchritude at its best. Get up and watch the nature's pinnacle.'
U.G. slowly got up, walked gingerly to the window and gazed out, with his open eyes for five full minutes.
U.G. eyes riveted peculiarly towards a milky moon, a sea of moonlight, boundless, immense, seeming to grow increasingly in height and depth.
Douglas wondered at U.G.'s queer looks with awed curiosity. U.G.'s penetrating glances appeared as if he dished out, from the unknown realms of immeasurable depths, some mystery which was hidden. In its depths, his contour was contrary to commonly-known U.G.
He seemed to be unaware of the world existing in and around him. Standing very close to U.G., such a sudden flash touched Douglas's mind that U.G. became an unknown entity for a moment.
U.G. appeared like a permanently liberated personality, from the bondage of life, and as a person who broke down some secret doors of human existence.
Douglas gazed at the room's ambience and sensed something amiss. The density of the atmosphere was gloomy—eerie and sepulchral. The air was suffocating with the deathly smell of a graveyard.
'U.G! What happened here?'
'Douglas, my dear boy. Here, just now, literally, physical death took place. There is no scope for doubt in what I said. Till now, the mighty and all-powerful ego (ahamkaara) had been laminated to existence, and it's not easy to subjugate its fossilized grip. Now it has been obliterated completely,' he concluded, on a firm note.
After a pause, U.G. reiterated, sledgehammer style, 'Everything else but the body has died and some traces of the ego connected with that. This was the final and ultimate death. Now, there is no enlightenment. There is no one here to be enlightened,' he attested.
'Douglas, there is one thing that I am for certain, the search must come to an end before anything can happen.'
After some time, U.G. added, 'Douglas! My dear boy! Your telephone call made me alive again and brought me back to the world. I do not know what actually resurrected me. It is beyond the experience structure. That is all.'
On hearing U.G., Douglas was overjoyed, his joy knew no bounds. He thought to himself, 'Today is a memorable day in my life.'
Why did Douglas strongly desired to ring up to U.G.? Was it an inevitability at that particular pinpoint of time? Had not Douglas phoned, what would have happened?
In the words of the great German literary stalwart, Wolfgang Von Goethe, 'Invariably, there is a mission for every extraordinary person, there is an ordained process for him to execute—till his mission is fulfilled, he will not die even if he is shot at, even if he is dropped from a hill, he will survive, and in case he dies, he will be resurrected and he will continue the ordained mission to the end.
