The present reality of life is however very different. It is a big falsehood covering a great truth. Until that truth is found, the labour and the struggle goes on.
But now a termless labour is her fate:
In its recurrent decimal of events
Birth, death are a ceaseless iteration’s points;
The old question-mark margins each finished page,
Each volume of her effort’s history.
But meanwhile there is the labour and the struggle with a procession of events carrying the march of Time. It seems like an endless repetition and questions multiplying with no final answers.
A limping Yes through the aeons journeys still
Accompanied by an eternal No.
No doubt there is some progress but it is too slow and often short-lived as if a giant denial runs constantly to counter all our hopes.
All seems in vain, yet endless is the game.
All this tends to dishearten man. It needs great patience and perseverance to build a diviner existence here but man’s heart is too impatient and tends to tire too soon of this game of games.
Ever circling wheel
Impassive turns the ever-circling Wheel,
Life has no issue, death brings no release.
The wheel of life seems to revolve endlessly around the same spot with minor variations. There seems to be no real meaning and even death does not guarantee any happier state.
A prisoner of itself the being lives
And keeps its futile immortality;
Extinction is denied, its sole escape.
Though there is in us an immortal soul, it seems to be of no use for our life here. It is itself a prisoner in its own house with no powers to change the scheme of things. There is no door of escape, no easy way to cease to be.
Error of the gods
An error of the gods has made the world.
It is only natural then to believe that this world is an error and if the gods exist and have a say in creation then it is a mistake made by them.
Or indifferent the Eternal watches Time.
Or perhaps what we call as God is simply some eternal witness with no power or will to erffectuate a change.
These are the thoughts and philosophies that spring up when life is labouring in this state. It is not our final truth but the mind and heart caught up in this state of imperfection and the long labour needed for the transformation may well become a cynic and lose hope, unless he chooses to go beyond, to dive deeper and discover a greater Truth as Aswapati does.
END OF CANTO SIX
Closing Remarks for the Canto
This canto is about an intermediate stage through which evolution passes. It is a stage when higher emotions and imaginations come into play to pull the being out of the bog and mire of the lower vital nature. It is a life no more centred around just food and mating and sleep. There is here a cry for change and in response to this cry there are passing glimpses of a higher and more beautiful life. But these passing glimpses do not endure nor have the power to transform our earthly existence. They come to give us a hope and a promise of the future. But then the labour returns and the suffering and pain are never really wiped out. The deeper causes of our misery remain while we wait with hope that one day things will change and life would become perfect. This longing can deepen and open a door to some greater height. Or else the impatient heart can tire soon and get locked in a prison of despair until the hand of Grace pulls it out.