Then Buckshee asked: Who are you, sir? I have
seen no traveler such as you on this road. I have seen only jackals and
rabbits and none worthy of life or of the name man.
The wayfarer smiled. All are worthy of life,
my son, he said. As for me, I live
in the Self. Therefore, whom should, I fear, and what should I desire that
you should not take it from me?
Where is that place, asked
that living in it you should have no fear and
The Self, my son, the wayfarer answered,
is everywhere. It is ever shining in its own light
and is indestructible. That Self is ever full and cannot know loneliness
by night or need by day. It cannot .know the terrors of the guilty dream
or the black pit of space or the slow fire of time. That Self, my son,
cannot be diminished or be added to; it cannot be bound or wounded; there
is nothing in earth, heaven, or hell that can touch the full glory of that
Self. It is greater than the great, more beautiful than the most beautiful,
and imperishable. The Self, my son, is who I am. And thou, too, art That.
Buckshee said in a small, incredulous