Bhagwan Ni Bhasha

The Language of Bhagwan

In one of the Kathas of Purushottam Maas, there is a story about a king named Dridhadhanva who set out to discover why he was happy — to find the reasons for his own contentment. During his quest, he began to understand the language of the trees and the speech of the parrot — the language of birds.

Let us set aside the miraculous aspects of this story and consider something else. In a time when human beings struggle to understand one another, for a person to understand the language of nature, the speech of birds and animals — that is a remarkable thing. One could approach this from an environmentalist's perspective or speak as an advocate for endangered species. In our age, tremendous conscious efforts are being made to master the art of communication and interpersonal relationships — talks, dialogues, training, and practice — and yet, people still fail to understand one another's language! The reason is this: when it comes to understanding and being understood, self-interest gets in the way. The ego stands between speaker and listener.

Through language, certain words are being spoken, but the hidden context behind them, the feeling in the heart, or the circumstances framing the conversation — these are often entirely different. So, the words are "heard," but the language is not "understood." The emotion, the meaning, and the intensity with which something is said does not find its true echo in the listener. The same meaning is not received. The intensity is either amplified or diminished. And all the while, the body language may be saying something altogether different from the spoken words.

Words are the language of the mind. Love is the language of the heart. And Maun (silence) is the language of the Atma.

Words exist to share a thought, but to share the feeling within that thought, the body's language is also at work — sending signals, good and bad.

Just as wearing green glasses makes everything appear green, and wearing red glasses makes everything look red — when a person listens through the lens of prejudice, even an honest statement will sound prejudiced. If people visit astrologers for Grahashanti — to pacify troublesome planetary influences — then the very first Grahashanti they ought to perform is the pacification of their own Purvagrah (prejudice). Remove the troublesome pre-judgements first!

Just as speech has its importance, so too does Maun have its own greatness. A word says something; poetry says more than a word; music says more than poetry. But the highest expression of the word is Maun — silence. The silence of words — of the body — gives Shakti (strength).

The silence of the mind gives Shanti (peace). The silence of the mind means not allowing the mind to wander wherever it pleases — to stop its Sankalpa-Vikalpa (endless forming and dissolving of thoughts), to make it steady, to become focused, to practice Dhyana (meditation).

In the same way, the silence of the Buddhi (intellect) can lead one to the attainment of Tattvagyan — the knowledge of ultimate truth.

The Katha above also points to something else. When the voice of the trees and the birds became comprehensible to him, King Dridhadhanva was reflecting on "Why am I happy?" People are usually preoccupied with "Why am I unhappy?" — they are constantly worried about it. A perpetual sense of sorrow, incompleteness, and insufficiency follows them. But when a person experiences genuine contentment — when they feel: "Wherever I am, whatever I am, as I am, with whatever I have — here, thus, this much — I am deeply happy" — and not only that, but begins to reflect on why they have received this happiness — that is a true sign of inner growth.

A person, a Dharma, or a nation may have a mother tongue, a scriptural language, or a national language — but what language does the all-pervading, all-knowing Bhagwan speak? In reality, all languages belong to Bhagwan, and yet, Bhagwan has no single language. The language of Bhagwan is Nisarga — nature itself. Prakruti is the language of Prabhu. The natural world is the expression of the unseen Divine. If Bhagwan were to speak to us, in what voice would He speak? Bhagwan speaks to us through the voice of our Antaratma — our innermost conscience. Through the experiences and feelings, we receive, what He is trying to tell us. Through Dukha and Sukha, He is seeking to have a conversation with us. The question is: do we hear His voice? Can we tune to His frequency, catch His waves?

Wordsworth said that nature is the breathing of Bhagwan. During this Adhik mas, let us try to listen to the language of Bhagwan:

1. Let us draw closer to Prakruti — His language made visible. Let us observe nature closely, understand it, listen to it, savour it, absorb it into ourselves.
2. Let us quiet the other noises and catch the subtle but sweet voice of our Antaratma.
3. Through good and difficult experiences, through the feeling of Sukha and Dukha, let us enter into dialogue with Him.

May Bhagwan Purushottam breathe life into these efforts.