Suvankar

“Swami Vivekananda knew the Hindu psyche embedded in the ‘Incarnation’ idea. He knew, too, that if that web were not cleared, what would remain would be the ‘Ramakrishna-Paramahamsa-is-God’ litany, and his essential message to our troubled times drowned in the ringing of bells and the waving of lamps, morning and noon and evening, in front of his photograph. Immediately after saying to his brother-monks that he was ready to lay down his life to help Sri Ramakrishna’s message spread all over the world, he said: What I am most afraid of is the worship-room. It is not bad in itself, but there is a tendency in some to make this all in all and set up that old-fashioned nonsense over again—this is what makes me nervous. I know why they busy themselves with those old, effete ceremonials. Their spirit craves for work, but having no outlet they waste their energy in ringing bells and all that.”
― Chaturvedi Badrinath, Swami Vivekananda: The Living Vedanta

“There is so much to say, so much in my head, so much that will remain unsaid: oh those wasted years, that wasted time. I think of Rilke, going for years without writing a word and then, producing in a matter of weeks, in a castle besieged by the sea, the Duino Elegies. Even silence is preparation.”
― Amitav Ghosh, The Hungry Tide

“The essence of the Vedanta is that there is but one Being and that every soul is that Being in full, not a part of that Being. All the sun is reflected in each dew-drop…We are not drops to fall into the ocean and be lost; each one is the whole, infinite ocean, and will know it when released from the fetters of illusion. Infinity cannot be divided, the ‘One without a second’ can have no second, all is that One. This knowledge will come to all, but we should struggle to attain it now, because until we have it, we cannot really give mankind the best help.89”
― Chaturvedi Badrinath, Swami Vivekananda: The Living Vedanta

“He lit a candle and sat still as the throbbing of the generator faded and a cloud of stillness crept slowly over the island. Listening to its advance, it occurred to him to wonder why, in English, silence is commonly said to ‘fall’ or ‘descend’ as though it were a curtain or a knife. There was nothing precipitous about the hush that followed the shutting off of the generator: the quiet was more like a fog or a mist, creeping in slowly, from a distance, wrapping itself around certain sounds while revealing others: the sawing of a cicada, a snatch of music from a distant radio, the cackle of an owl. Each of these made themselves heard briefly, only to vanish again into the creeping fog.”
― Amitav Ghosh, The Hungry Tide