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could be seen in Mahavira, Buddha and Christ. They were individuals because they were not a disorderly cluster of broken tunes; they were music; because they were not the blind race full of self-contradictions; they had a definite motion and direction.
Life gets into motion in happiness after finding its focus and direction. To attain the individuality, and the tunefulness hidden in it, is like opening the gates of real life. Before that, life is not a reality but only a possibility; it is a future.
The tragedy of the split of man's individuality has occurred all over the world. We have broken away and got separated from our own selves. It is like a circle which has lost its centre and of which only the circumference remains. We are running on the circumference of life, will keep running, and then fall down; and even for a moment we will not know what is called rest and peace. Our condition is like that of the bullock yoked in an oil-expeller.
Life is not the circumference alone; it is also the centre. Without knowing this, all efforts, all motions are ultimately useless, meaningless. In the absence of this knowledge, all streams of labour take to the ocean of misery. There are only actions on the circumference of life; the power is not there. I, my existence, my being is not there. In my proved existence I am absent on the surface. I cannot be found on the surface of action. What I am can be found far deeper and in other depths. Without knowing that depth, without establishing a relation in a very familiar way with the inner self, life is an illusion; it is a tiresome journey. Without establishing relation with this self and this power, life cannot get transformed into a pleasure-trip.
I am reminded of an uprooted tree. When I think about the man, the tree automatically comes to my mind. I do not know why, I cannot think of man as different from the tree. Perhaps because of the roots, this similarity surrounds my mind. If an individual gets uprooted from the centre of his existence, he looks like an uprooted tree. He who does not know his own form is losing roots in his existence. How surprising it is that we are getting unfamiliar with
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