SCIAMACHY

Shutting the optical centre down, a screen, eigengrau, demands recognition of its presence. The portrait developed on the screen depends on the master. Invisible stars continue to twinkle until they are replaced by a beautiful gleam of heavenly fire or the plops of infernal ichor. Man is agathokakological; and his ultimate battle, moreover solitary, is between the good and the bad. He is the sole warrior, the lonely knight. His weapon, thereby, is his own mind, swinging in the winds of dilemma and hope. Myriad lips, across this sphere, have parted, are presently parting and will continue to part, matching the pitch of their larynx with similar words falling of the edge of the tongue – every road has a split end, the end being eternal. A part is named ‘kalon’, meaning ‘virtuous’; another named ‘caco’, meaning ‘vice’. ‘Man should be wise enough to walk on the right path’, is what they say. Things would have been extremely simple, if the branches of that road were only two. Or, if at all there were branches.

In reality, there is not a specific path one can decide to move on. It is not so simple. It is not so easy. Veridically, an enormous forest with a pitch black hallow stands in place of a battlefield. Enchanted as it is, the sun never comes up on its own. The long, unmaintained tufts of grass are tied into moral knots, and the trees, attaining height same as the focal length of plane mirror, have become invisible due to their ebony hue. The night is always moonless, obstructing even a single ray of light perceptual to man. Obstructing a single ray of hope. The woods are surrounded by shadows, vague, if they’re of the trees, or of myriad negative energies, demotivating man to the utmost. There are small, unnoticed, unseen traps awaiting every step, for fall is the greatest teacher there is. There are obstacles invisible to our dim brain’s apprehension, deadlier than a hungry lion, his tooth painted with human blood. All the hope that was alive as fire is left in ashes. It appears to man that he is amid stress, anxiety, sorrow, wrath and all other negative aspects of living beings. He is not able to trust his dearest kins and trusts all his enemies. The Devil within him tries to overpower the Angel, and he tends to lose his ability to reason out. Even the slightest problems appear huge to him; making it unclear whether such difficulties always lie on this quest agaimst the vice, or he himself is responsible for their creation. He has to go through umpteen emotional distresses, psychological stresses, combined with physical hardship. Reality seems to be a deception, and nightmares look straight into the eye.

Betwixt, all the negativity and positivity, man is alone. There may be people swearing of unconditional support, lifetime motivation and encouragement, along with togetherness lasting forevermore. This love and aid of his beloved may or may not actually help him. Ultimately, he us the lone fighter in his battle.

A man watched his colleague being bullied in an alley every evening. Being heavy built, his friends always motivated him to stand up and fight for his fellow brother, but the man just ignored. One day, he realised that what he was doing wasn’t virtuous, and that he ought to fight against the wrong. He spoke up, and that day he won the battle against the vice. His action was not a reflex of his friends’ motivation, but his self realisation.

Battle for every man is difficult. The above story was just a minimised version of tough situations, proving that no motivation, no help, can help him win his battle, unless he himself wants to fight for the good.
Not even the supreme being can persuade him to be victorious in the war.

“The smitter thinks that he can stay,
The smitten fears that he is slain,
The thought of both alike are vain,
The soul survives the murderous fray.”

The smitter here is the demon living inside us and the smitten is the man himself. Both are extremely confident in their thoughts of destroying and being destroyed respectively, but in vain. But whatever the devil plots against his host, is ultimately survived by the pure soul.

“But the soul is equally deceived if,
It distinguishes between itself and
The world.”

The thing is, man tends to compare his problems with the world; his battlefield with others. He cheats on himself, his mind and his heart, when he tries to mimic others’ actions, while trying to solve his own issues. He doesn’t understand the simple concept that the deeds of each individual are not alike, thus the ground he stands on is distinguished, and, therefore, his ways of dealing and fighting are different as well.

“Higher than the person there is
Nothing at all. That is the
Goal.”

There is no light source in the darkened ground, he needs to use other sources this time. In his battlefield, there is a gold waterfall at a distance. To seek enlightenment he must hear the sound of the magical water and follow it, until the heavenly brightness blinds his eyes and the beautiful aurum shade glitters on his face. The quest against bad, is difficult, but not as dark as the sages say. If man believes in himself, there is nothing that can stop him achieving this amazing ‘elixir of life.’




Man was always alone, in the battle against the world, as well as the battle against himself. He always, has his heart as his mental supporter, and his brain, as his emotional tranquilizer. Loneliness is a beautiful aspect of humanity. Togetherness never brings the fire to the eyes, only loneliness can do thus wonder. Only after our eyes have set on fire, does the blindness go away, and the aurum cascade lies in front of our eyes. Then, vertically above the elixir of life, the disappeared eay of hope, the moon, comes back to sight.