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Adi & Praja 078

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Adi and Praja

Chapter 7

Issue 78: Beauty never dies

All that Beauty heard had however one quality in common: it was always outgoing, always reaching out, by sounds of compassion, always carrying a wish and even some will power to make light what is dark, to make cheerful what is sad, to help to uplift human souls, her music wanted to touch hearts and never thought of reward – only outreaching, outreaching.

(78)

(Beauty never dies)

She woke up still finding herself sitting in the same chair in the mysterious music room. She felt as if she had been listening to the best concert ever – but could only very faintly remember how it was. Mr. M.’s wife knocked on the door and asked her to come out for another cup of coffee. When Mr. M. and she were alone with the coffee, he asked her: “Do you believe that living beings have a soul? And she answered: “No I don’t believe it; I know it. I have seen for myself.” Then he asked: “Do you think that the human soul is immortal after death?” She answered: “Partly: the bad parts of it die, when you shine love, compassion and beauty on them. But the good parts live much and much longer and become more and more beautiful, until they go beyond a horizon where I could not look – but I suppose their path is always in the right direction.”

So, is that your soul?” he asked. “Yes,” she said, “at least part of it.” Then he asked: “Is it immortal?” She hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said: “I have seen how evil parts of the soul can die – but all the beautiful things went on and on, at least until the horizon I could see.” Then she remembered some of the darkest and meanest people she had talked with in her slum, and thought, ‘may be their souls die entirely, because they have no more power to see beauty, love or compassion. But if they have only the tiniest little bits of these feelings within them, perhaps very occasionally and rarely, even they can survive.’ And she answered to Mr. M.: “I wish so, but I am not sure that everyone’s soul is immortal.”

Mr. M., taking refuge to logic, said: “If some parts of the souls are mortal, the soul is not immortal. If some parts of the soul have a beginning and an end, this must be true for all parts.” She was shocked. “So, even the beauty of the soul dies? Then why do we exist for at all?” He answered: “I did not say that the beauty of the soul dies. Real beauty never dies.” She was puzzled. Her intuition told her that there must be something immortal in everything that exists: even atoms in space, even though they may split and unite billions of time – they never really die. So how can a human soul die? But, reading her thoughts he said: “Beauty never dies, what is really true never dies, and compassion exists as long as there are beings in the universe who need compassion. But all illusions die, naturally, because illusions, even the most beautiful ones, are not true. But what is true does not die. What feels beautiful in your heart is closer to real truth than what feels wrong, so beauty can guide you. The highest beauty is to give and teach to recognize beauty to others. So beauty and compassion go hand in hand. They guide you to truth – which encompasses beauty and compassion, and contains everything in the universe. It contains all answers and all questions.”

Beauty was silent. She had a feeling as if she was born again. Of course she remembered the work in the suburb and all that she had done for the poor and destitute people (and sometimes animals). It was like a former life.

After finishing her coffee she went back home to her slum and went to sleep immediately. Tomorrow would be a busy day, and due to the gloomy weather she expected more clients than on average days. As was indeed the case.

Several weeks went by before she met Mr. M again. The lesson he had given was more than enough ‘homework.’ Every day when she woke up she seemed to understand a little more of her experience. In her daily life she talked with many people, organized all kinds of things for them, but at the same time she felt that it was all part of a bigger plan. Nothing in Nature – absolutely nothing – is ‘useless,’ even things that to human judgment seems even less than useless – such as mosquitoes. Sometimes people came to her and told their story – which she now understood on a deeper level than ever before – and sometimes she didn’t answer them with even one word. She smiled – a real smile coming from her heart – and the smile touched the other where words can never reach – and thus she said more than her lips could ever have said. This did not apply to all people though. Many could only ‘understand’ words and argumentation, and she could only hope that with the goodwill of that person’s soul, he or she would begin to think for themselves.

Then she went to Mr. M.’s house again. Though they had no appointment, the coffee was already in the making. After some friendly conversation with Mr. M’s wife and daughter, they went again into the music room.

This time the effect of the music was entirely different. Again she lost consciousness of her body and she found herself in a strange atmosphere. The last time, a few weeks ago, she had been ‘locked up’ in her own consciousness and her only reality had been the music of her soul. But this time she was aware of others around her, though most of them only vaguely. She saw beings in all kinds of moving colors, and sometimes they seemed to be quite emotional. Some of these beings were the forms of feelings of people, their desires, their bad habits, their despairs, depressions, angers, and so on, but she also saw beings which seemed to have no relation with human feelings and emotions. Some seemed to flash into existence and out of existence. Some beings came together and became part of her own feelings and emotions.

But she also saw ‘dead’ people, and even some dead animals. Some of these people she recognized. They were dead, but she had known them when alive. Some had been her clients, and she felt again the same concern and sympathy for them. Some of them who were still suffering and struggling with their emotions and felt themselves as if they were in hell, she approached, and though they had no earthly bodies, they could communicate – and she could help them even better than when they had been alive on earth. I must say, this communication came from her side – the dead people where not consciously aware of her presence. But they experienced some feeling as if someone cared for them, and therefore became more quiet and less desperate. In this way their suffering was greatly relieved, and they ‘floated’, as it were, upwards or inwards into the direction of heaven. Beauty’s experience was but vague and dreamy, but through her natural heart-felt love, she was of more help than she herself was aware of.

(79)

(Beauty’s journey to death)

She could not help everyone she saw, and she herself was but half aware in this strange world. At one time, in one of the darkest and down most partitions of this world

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