The Monk III — The Temple That Calls You to Die

Every seeker has seen it once.

Not in a photo, not outside but inside.

A Shiva temple that appears when naam jap becomes too deep — it is not imagination, it is a call. A call from Shiva Himself. Cosmic Consciousness calling to become nothing again. No body. No mind. No intellect. Not even awareness.

Just become like a drop — an evaporated drop.

The monk has been seeing it since the Himalayan dream. After the cyborg dream, after the disciples tried to make him immortal with wires and legacy.

The temple does not call to live. It calls to die. Let there be no more burden of ego. Let's be like Jad Bharat.

This confuses the mind — the mind which is not ready to vanish. Every other temple promises — come, live better. More money, more health, more success. This one promises nothing. It says — come, leave everything, even the one who came. Let there be nothing. Become nothing and experience That Which Is Not.

That is why most people never enter, even when they see it inside. They circle. They take photos from outside. They pray from distance. They say — later, when responsibilities end, when book is finished, when child grows up.

But temple does not wait for later. Temple calls now.

What does it mean — to die inside temple?

It does not mean real death. Body continues to drink tea and coffee. Coffee. How can one forget coffee? But let the tea disappear. Let the coffee disappear. Let the drinker disappear.

1. A layman dies — the one who waits for permission.

2. A Family man dies — the one who lives only for appreciation.

3. A man of system dies — the one who lives only for target.

Architect dies. Architect dies? No, it's not that easy because he can rise again. He is like Avatar. He may return and may not. Sometimes as monk, sometimes as family man again. But there is a subtle difference. Now he shifts from monk to family man, family man to layman. He can change forms, however, remains nothing from inside.

Now, he is already dead. Already nothing. Already That Which Is Not.

For him, death does not feel like end. It feels like fulfillment. Like keeping a heavy bag down after a 20 km journey. Bags are like body, like mind full of thoughts, like intellect full of experiences.

And then — tea tastes better. Coffee? Come on, it's always better. Child's laugh becomes temple bell.

The temple that calls you to die is actually the only place that lets you live.

It is still there. Behind closed eyes. Between two breaths. After the blank smile or no smile.