How to go about fulfilling the purpose in our remaining life? Make me understand the precious value of the human life that you have gifted. In this very life, may I discover the Divine in myself, may I aspire to manifest the Divinity in me, may I serve you in your great work of bringing the Divine world on Earth. May I serve you in your great work of bringing the Divine world on Earth. Bless me to think, act, feel as Divine Mother’s child.
It will be so. The awakening of an aspiration is itself a sign of the Divine Sanction. The rest is a fulfillment that takes place through the adventure of Time and Space.
Sharing a poem of Sri Aurobindo describing the capsizing of a boat, but it can well be applied to the airplane tragedy.
‘The Lost Boat
At the way’s end when the shore raised up its dim line and remote lights from the port glimmered,
Then a cloud darkened the sky’s brink and the wind’s scream was the shrill laugh of a loosed demon
And the huge passion of storm leaped with its bright stabs and the long crashing of death’s thunder;
As if haled by an unseen hand fled the boat lost on the wide homeless forlorn ocean.
Is it Chance smites? is it Fate’s irony? dead workings or blind purpose of brute Nature?
Or man’s own deeds that return back on his doomed head with a stark justice, a fixed vengeance?
Or a dread Will from behind Life that regards pain and salutes death with a hard laughter?
Is it God’s might or a Force rules in this dense jungle of events, deeds and our thought’s strivings?
Yet perhaps sank not the bright lives and their glad venturings foiled, drowned in the grey ocean,
But with long wandering they reached an unknown shore and a strange sun and a new azure,
Amid bright splendour of beast glories and birds’ music and deep hues, an enriched Nature
And a new life that could draw near to divine meanings and touched close the concealed purpose.
In a chance happening, fate’s whims and the blind workings or dead drive of a brute Nature,
In her dire Titan caprice, strength that to death drifts and to doom, hidden a Will labours.
Not with one moment of sharp close or the slow fall of a dim curtain the play ceases:
Yet is there Time to be crossed, lives to be lived out, the unplayed acts of the soul’s drama.’
(Ref. https://incarnateword.in/cwsa/02/the-lost-boat)
Affectionately,
Alok Da
