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At the Feet of The Mother

The Exile of Truth, pp. 207-208

A world of treachery
The air was full of treachery and ruse;
Truth-speaking was a stratagem in that place;
Ambush lurked in a smile and peril made
Safety its cover, trust its entry’s gate:
Falsehood came laughing with the eyes of truth;
Each friend might turn an enemy or spy,
The hand one clasped ensleeved a dagger’s stab
And an embrace could be Doom’s iron cage.

It was a world of treachery where even truth-speaking was used as a strategy by falsehood to further its own empire. All the good qualities such as trust and friendship were turned into their very opposites. What seemed to provide safety was in fact the dangerous thief. Smile and laughter hid danger in their eyes that imitated truth. Nothing could be trusted in this domain where even an embrace of love could turn into an embrace of doom.

Agony and fear
Agony and danger stalked their trembling prey
And softly spoke as to a timid friend:
Attack sprang suddenly vehement and unseen;
Fear leaped upon the heart at every turn
And cried out with an anguished dreadful voice;
It called for one to save but none came near.

Agony and danger chased one everywhere in this realm. The softness of speech was used only to deceive and when one had begun to trust then danger sprang suddenly. Fear and terror was the way of life there, dread and anguish their voice of the heart. None would come to help or save another in danger. Such was the life in this dark and perilous realm where nothing and none could be trusted to be what they outwardly projected.

Deadly net
All warily walked, for death was ever close;
Yet caution seemed a vain expense of care,
For all that guarded proved a deadly net,
And when after long suspense salvation came
And brought a glad relief disarming strength,
It served as a smiling passage to worse fate.

All walked through this realm with suspicion as to when and from which side Death would spring forth. Yet this caution served no purpose since even the ‘protecting guardians’ were only a net of death. Even a seeming escape served only as a passage to worse domains.

No truce or safe place
There was no truce and no safe place to rest;
One dared not slumber or put off one’s arms:
It was a world of battle and surprise.

None could be trusted and taken as a friend, no place could be taken as safe. It was like an on-going battle-zone where to put off one’s guard or sleep and rest was like inviting death.

Settled anarchy
All who were there lived for themselves alone;
All warred against all, but with a common hate
Turned on the mind that sought some higher good;
Truth was exiled lest she should dare to speak
And hurt the heart of darkness with her light
Or bring her pride of knowledge to blaspheme
The settled anarchy of established things.

There was no law and order there since each lived for himself with hate and ill-will as a common factor. Truth was exiled there lest it speaks out its mind and hurts the heart of darkness. To be truthful was a blaspheme that would disturb the settled anarchy of that world.

Closing Remarks
It is when these dark worlds of falsehood and untruth influence human beings and take them in its strong grip that life here too becomes a hell.

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When I ask you to be plastic in relation to the Divine, I mean not to resist the Divine with the rigidity of preconceived ideas and fixed principles.