This is the story of a journey — a journey that began at its destination, that progresses along the destination’s own path, and that will end at the destination itself. The journey is not over, but it has most certainly begun. I am still where I was, yet the distance is being covered, and the journey goes on.
I am the traveler. This journey was neither my own choosing nor the fruit of my own effort — and yet a traveler I certainly am. This is the journey to a throne. Begun at an empty throne, it will end only when I behold its Sovereign seated upon it with my own eyes. The road builds itself as I go; my only duty is to walk it.
The journey began the very moment I first saw, in our prayer room, a picture of the Emperor of the Universe seated in bliss upon a beautiful throne, crowned with His own hair. I had heard that in His capital, Prasanthi Nilayam, one could see the Emperor enthroned exactly so — in person. Carrying such profound possibility, that single fact drove the longing to witness that sight deep into the innermost chamber of my heart, then and there. But how was I to know that an unseen power was already drawing the current of my life in that very direction?
Perhaps the Emperor wished to make my acquaintance — for I found myself enrolled in Bal Vikas. The stories of His leelas that I heard there slowly began to fill my heart. I even began to have darshan of the throne adorned for Him in His mandir; but the sight of Him actually seated upon it remained confined to my imagination. Everyone believed that He was present there too, in unseen form — but my eyes longed to behold that magnificent sight for themselves. And so, as I grew, this mirage of mine ripened along with me.
His leela is beyond all measure — of this truth I am now convinced. In my life too He was weaving just such a leela, though I remained oblivious to it. It was toward the end of class twelve when, all of a sudden, the chance to make my dream come true stood before me: the opportunity to study at the university He Himself had founded, a place so close to His heart — an opportunity through which thousands of other opportunities were certain to follow. I stepped forward without delay. Even if I failed to win a seat there, I had no complaint; for to sit the entrance examination I would travel to Prasanthi at least once, and the chance to quench my long thirst would surely be mine.
The time drew near. The invitation letter for the entrance examination had arrived. My heart was restless with eagerness for the darshan of the Emperor upon His throne. Then, without warning, a storm arose that blew away all my dreams. Clouds gathered whose rains washed away all my desires; a darkness fell that denied my eyes that sight forever. The Emperor of the Universe had resolved to cast off His human form and merge into the Infinite. With a heavy heart, I arrived at the capital. But as fate would have it, my journey could not end there. And yet — progress there certainly was. I, who had only ever been able to imagine His presence upon the empty throne, stood that day in the very place from which millions had seen, with their own eyes, the magnificent sight I had ached for and never seen. Perhaps sensing the sorrow of my heart, the throne upon which the Emperor Himself had once sat presented itself before me, as if to hand me proof of that very truth. It seemed to be telling me: what does it matter that you could not see it — the reverence and the place this throne commands are themselves the proof that the Emperor once sat here in person. Pressing down the unfulfilled longing of my heart, I consoled myself with the sheer good fortune of standing on that sacred ground, and I sat the university’s entrance examination.
Slowly, I was steeling myself to put my desire mercilessly to death — for I had watched every lamp of hope go out. But it seems the Emperor of the Universe had a plan of His own for me. Slowly, the Pole Star began to appear in the sky — to guide me toward my journey’s destination. My journey was far from complete, but neither was it my right to end it before its time. For this journey had been neither my own choosing nor my own effort. I was merely the instrument. This journey was a duty given to me to fulfill in this world.
So then — the throne for the Emperor is to be raised not in a palace hall but in the palace of the heart. The throne is to be built not of wood but of love and surrender. For the Emperor’s kingdom is the whole of creation, His capital is every human heart, and His reign will endure until the end of time. My journey will end on the day I behold Him, with my inner eye, seated upon the throne of my heart.