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<title>SUPPLEMENTARY</title>

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<span style='mso-bidi-font-size:
18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-style:italic'>SUPPLEMENTARY<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
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16.3pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><b
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<span style='font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-style:italic'><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span><span style='mso-bidi-font-size:
18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-style:italic'>I<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>

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<span style='mso-bidi-font-size:
18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-style:italic'>SWEET MOTHER<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>

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<span style='mso-bidi-font-size:
18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-style:italic'>(New Series)<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>

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16.3pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><b
style='mso-bidi-font-weight:normal'>The Golden Harvest</b><span style='mso-bidi-font-style:
italic'><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></p>

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none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>The poet-saint Ramprasad
says:</p>

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none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='line-height:150%;mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:
.5in;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span style='mso-tab-count:
1'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>“O my man, you do not know how to till!</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='line-height:150%;mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:
.5in;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span style='mso-tab-count:
1'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>If you knew! Oh, you have such a piece of land –</p>

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.5in;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span style='mso-tab-count:
1'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>This human life of yours!</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='line-height:150%;mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:
.5in;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span style='mso-tab-count:
1'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>You could have reaped gold from it.”</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='line-height:150%;mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:
.5in;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:.25in;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:.5in;mso-layout-grid-align:none;
text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Indeed this human body is the precious land from which one
could reap a harvest of gold. For this body has the proud privilege of
receiving the golden touch of the Divine materially and to hold it and maintain
it. This <span lang=EN-GB style='mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>materialisation</span>
of the Divine is the supreme alchemy of which the body is capable. There are
other forms of union with the Divine, all forms of consciousness, of the mind,
of the vital – subtle perceptions, thoughts, emotions, even sensations – all delightful
but immaterial: even without the body they can be felt and experienced, they
are true and real in their own authenticity. But the body brings in a new
element, altogether different a phenomenon. It makes a thing living, real
materially. The human body has this strange virtue of Touch – the body contact –
which makes what is dead (matter) alive – <i>mrtam ka<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:Verdana'>ñ</span>cana
bodhayanti </i>(Rigveda). We know the biblical adage: &quot;The proof of
the pudding is in the eating thereof.&quot; This capacity of eating is the
privilege of the body alone: only the body can supply this proof that makes a
thing concretely real. Why did Ramprasad utter these words somewhat rough and
uncouth to a <span class=GramE>civilised</span><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

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<span style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page –
251<o:p></o:p></span></p>

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<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class=GramE>hearing</span>?
- &quot;Oh Mother, I will eat you up, devour you, even as I do a plate of vegetable!&quot;
There is delight in devotion, there is joy in surrender, even ecstasy in love,
but where is the inexplicable exquisiteness of utter oneness in the physical
embrace – as for example, in Radha's experience?</p>

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150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Radha
is the personification of the supreme global and integral identification of the
Divine with the human, or rather the transfusion of the Divine Person into the
substance of the human person. Radha says, every drop of blood, every particle
of flesh in her body cries out for every drop of blood, every particle of flesh
of <st1:place>Krishna</st1:place>'s body. Radha has made, as it were, a fossil
transmutation of her body replacing it bit by bit by <st1:place>Krishna</st1:place>'s
body. She feels she is none other than <st1:place>Krishna</st1:place>, even
physically himself. It is an utter unity and identity - not merely in the
Vedantic way, up there in Atman, but down here also: it is an infusion or
immixture in Nature also. It is a kind of coalescence by fusion as of the
sub-atomic particles (– the matrix, by the way, of the supreme incalculable
energy). Because of this supreme union and identification, even down to the
material body, Radha feels that her body is no longer her own but Krishna's and
therefore utterly sacred. She cries out as the Vaishnava poet says: &quot;O
sister, when this body dies, do not burn it or throw it into the river, but
keep it suspended on a branch of the <i>tamal </i>tree. Tamal has a dark
hue, my <st1:place>Krishna</st1:place> is also of dark hue. I love Tamal
because I love <st1:place>Krishna</st1:place>.&quot;</p>

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none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:3.1pt;mso-line-height-alt:
3.6pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:.15in;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>The
earth, the body that has once received the touch of the earth-made body of the
Divine never loses the virtue of that contact. That contact remains imbedded in
the substance of the mortal human body: it abides there as a secret aroma, as
the fragrance of a flower hidden in its pollens. So long as the flower lasts,
the perfume' will last – even after, even when it has withered.<o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

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<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 252<o:p></o:p></span></p>

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18.0pt;color:blue;mso-bidi-font-style:italic'><a href="-01-contents"><img src="_Gif%20Image/Home.gif" width="51" height="32" border="0"></a></span></b></p>
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