I vaguely
remember the two books that I read long long ago. One by Paramahamsa Yogananda
(“Autobiography of a Yogi”) and the other by Swami Rama ( “Living with
Himalayan Masters”). Both these are more of anthologies of miracles than
strictly autobiographical.
Though I
was a bit skeptical while reading these two books, they did keep me engrossed.
I have seen many people – highly educated, as well as lay – very much impressed
by the miracles described in these books and needless to say that these books
succeeded in further arousing their appetite for miracles.
But we
often tend to ignore those miracles that keep happening just in front of our
eyes and look for them elsewhere! After all what is a miracle? It is just an
unusual happening that baffles us and we fail to fully understand it.
Take for
example, the birth of a child. Just a lump of flesh that hangs upside down in
the mother’s womb for nine long months, gets forced out through a passage too
narrow for it to pass through, the passage suddenly expands to accommodate the exit,
the extreme pain that the mother experiences during the entire process that she
later cherishes as a sweet memory, the tube that nourished the fetus all
through gets detached on its own when the baby comes out, the baby takes in a
puff of fresh air for the first time in its life, and starts feeding on the
fluid that gets spontaneously produced in its mother’s breasts……. Each event is
unusual, one that baffles us, and all the same we fail to understand how such a
thing could happen. Isn’t that a miracle?
Miracles keep
happening every second, everywhere, wherever we look around. We just need to
keep our eyes open. No need to look for them elsewhere.
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