The Mystique of ‘M’
After long hours of meditation the previous night, M was sleeping late. He then had a wonderfully vivid dream. He dreamt that he was a mendicant with matted hair. Clad only in a kaupin, he was sitting in padmasana, meditating under a banyan tree that stood right in the middle of a junction where four paths met and parted. All around was a dense forest. A faint sound disturbed him in is meditation; he opened his eyes and saw Maayi Ma, now grown to Amazonian proportions, walking towards him with a stick aloft in her hand. She asked him for something to eat. Taking a couple of grains of beaten rice he had hidden in his matted hair, he gave them to her. ‘Are you hungry, too?’ she asked. When he said he was, she told him, “You don’t need this. Your hunger is for a different thing.”
Suddenly she pressed the middle of his forehead with what he felt to be her thumb. An ocean of bliss coursed through him, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. Every cell of his being pulsated with it.
He woke up; or rather, he floated up into a wakeful state, but the ethereal bliss remained with him. He sat up slowly, stretched his legs. He walked towards the bathroom, he felt that he was a thistledown wafting in the air; he did not feel even his limbs moving. After some time, he regained control over his body and mind; but the stream of bliss gurgled in the core of his being. Ever since, that ineffable bliss has stayed with him—at times low, at other times high, but always there.