Sunday, June 21, 2015

THE BEING AND THE BECOMING-VIII

One evening I was sitting on a garden bench in a corner of the hospital garden. During the last hour or so, Thimmy was watering the garden while I walked by his side, and now we sat down to rest - I on the bench, and Thimmy in front of me, as usual, on his tail.

He was drawing at his pipe and blowing smoke rings, though I could not see any matches or tobacco. Often, he simply blew through the pipe instead of drawing through it, and columns of smoke rose from the bowl, and strange shapes swirled through the columns like multi-coloured dragons.

After a while, Thimmy said, "Enough for now. Now, you may talk. I see you have something to say."

"Yes, Thimmy, "I said, "yes. May be you could tell me who you are, who I am, and why you are so fond of me and kind, and so jolly and so good."

"Lots of questions in one breath!" said Thimmy. "Well, as you see, I am a cat. For hundreds of years, may be thousands, I can't count, others had been calling me cat or something. It was always they, they doing something to me or with me. May be I did somethings, too. Anyway I don't remember much about what was Thimmy and what was not.

"Then, Thimmy fell into the hands of magicians, and they killed off one Thimmy after another, cutting open and peering inside, always looking for something. Suddenly, one Thimmy or part of one Thimmy forgot all about pain and wanted to know what they were looking for; what was so precious in Thimmy, that they were not tired of their bloody search.

"I may say that this part of Thimmy, which I call I, could see Thimmy stretched out on the table, all cut and open; and I could even play hide and seek with magicians, and do bo-peep from behind their heads, and see the magicians for the monkeys they really were; and I was having more fun than when I was completely Thimmy. Of course, this long acquaintance with magicians gave me words to talk with.

"Suddenly, one day - how shall I say - like a bolt from the blue - this part of me realised that it was Thimmy that got cut up and killed, nor just one or the other Thimmy, but Thimmy spirit, Thimmy idea, the Perfect Thimmy around which a Thimmy could always form itself; one perfect idea from a world of perfect ideas: But all this more and more clearly only much later on, I should say.

"Once one Thimmy found itself with a holy man of some order or the other - I found myself with it, or it found itself with me. All I remember is a kindly old woman who thought it merciful to kill Thimmy before starvation at some later date killed it. She threw me into a stream along with a few other small Thimmys. It was great fun - Thimmy in water. Next I found myself in the hands of the holy man, and since then I have stayed with him in his cave near a beautiful lake. Surely, you yourself might remember this man and the place.

"I remained with him, playing and laughing, and I found myself listening and talking, too; and many of the things I say, I have learnt from him.

" "Thimmy," the holy man said to me, "you are really a great one. You have found yourself. Rarely can it be done before one is human."

" " What do you mean," I asked.

" " Why, of course, because you found that you are the perfect cat, and your body only a means to express it, " he said.

" " Yes, I see what you mean, Master," I said, "but, how did it happen?" I asked.

"" Oh, just like that, of course, just like that as always things happen. Perhaps, it happened the moment you found yourself playful, the moment you forgot your pain, overlooked everything and thought that the magicians cutting up Thimmy were at play, and you joined it. The bit that joined the game, became you, the real Thimmy. The magicians could cut Thimmy, not your self, and in the hide and seek, they could not find you, and you laughed and there was you. From then on I could see that you lost interest in eating mice, and enjoyed hugely, playing with them. You saw the mice, the magicians and the old woman as playmates - because you saw or sensed the ideas, the players behind them. 

" " How, why, I can't put in exact words - you know more of them. You may say that you stood unveiled from that day - maybe becoming is another word for unveiling, more and more veils may fall off. Thimmy was your veil, behind it is you, and there could be many more things behind you. Perhaps I can already see one or two."

"" Thank you," I said," but why can't I keep the same Thimmy: so many Thimmys getting cut or torn just to keep me?"

""Yes, that is true and a pity. But from the little I have seen, Thimmy, it looks like this: The idea comes from the world of ideas. It takes a form to express itself. But no cluster is able to fully express the idea perfectly. Maybe the cluster is not uniform, maybe many other small ideas come in wanting to express themselves and get into conflict. You see, Thimmy, that even if the magicians and the old woman didn't kill you, Thimmy would still be dying off, fighting within itself. So you go on from form to form till the perfect idea is perfectly and durably expressed.

"" I am not sure, ,myself, Thimmy, but you and I have become aware of this game, and have more things to do. One, for example, we can help this becoming, this unveiling, since we have done it. We can help a little in helping to maintain the idea and form together for as long as possible, in as many as possible, wherever and whenever we get a chance.

"" This is a funny game, Thimmy. The rules seem to get made as the play goes on - and some rules, we have experienced, haven't we - Thimmy, that is how it is. Let us play the game as it proceeds.""

"You see, "Thimmy said to me, "that is how it is - to be and to become; to unveil. to play, above all to play."

"Thank you," I said, : but what about me? Why don't I play, I don't know what, but it seems no fun at all!"

"Ah," he said, "that's because you had always been bothering about the rules, wanting to know, to verify, to watch out, to give penalties, and so on - you were being too much of an umpire to play, and to be an umpire in a game that seems to make its rules as it goes on. or where both the game and rules get revealed or unveiled as they go on! That's what my Master said. The only rules are the ones you experience as you go along, and then you can talk of them to another who is in the same plane of play, if talk is necessary. Anyway, Master feels that you are on the way to become a good play-fellow. Of course, you have lost a good bit of your play material while searching for the rules. may be you will be getting it back; that too is play!"

"Oh, to hell with materials," I grumbled, "when one doesn't know the rules. Silly, I call it."

"Yes, yes, that is one of the big bits that doesn't fit in, I suppose - the big bit that says, 'I must know the rules before I play.' From which plane this bit comes, and why it gets tagged on to you, why it wont let you see yourself as You by Yourself, all this even my Master may not know. But both Master and myself seem to have lost it or digested it before we became we, and joined the play. You seemed a possible play-mate. Now, you may go on having the fun of talking when you feel like it. Gosh, I have been talking and explaining instead of playing. I must be off."

He blew a series of dragon smokes and vanished.

"Play, you fool and compile the book of rules some other time,"floated down a dragon's tail.
 


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