My Chalice Never Brims

I am the one who was born with a chalice, moulded with immaterial silver. The chalice that cannot be delineated with a consummate artist’s imagination, for it is amorphous. I barely knew the significance of it; as a child, I was accustomed to innocent ignorance. Soon I was conditioned to incrementally and constantly fill this unfathomable chalice.

First came moral values and social constructs, and I pleasurably invited them, and poured them into my chalice. Though, this was not the inaugural addition; these were the first ones I remember. I looked at the inner bottom of the chalice to find some congenital attributes that were inherited. Miraculous it seemed, the chalice grew in size as I poured in more. This peculiar amalgamation of intellectual liquid in the chalice, sometimes seemed frivolous to me. Some of this uncanny liquid evaporated with time, and some supplanted with modernistic hot fluid and nonsensical newfangled believes, but some were a delight to my taste-buds.

I overheard a passer-by talk about a waterfall, “I have heard that it has mystical powers." 

My next expedition in search for the mystical waterfall - in my wagon I was on the path that led to the waterfall. I discovered the whereabouts of the waterfall, the perpetual one. Jubilance filled my heart, and I seized this moment and poured this feeling into my chalice. 

I touched the clear water of the waterfall and the mere touch projected in front of my eyes, torrent of obscure quick moving images. It was its benevolent act to show me the infinite possibilities. Evidently, this was its mystical secret. The locals called it, 'books,' and I filled my chalice with some of this water for it tasted sweeter than ever. 

I could fill my stomach, but never my chalice with this water. The villagers warned me of something, but I acted oblivious and disdainfully disregarded their suggestion. I was inebriated with the water's enthralling property, yet it was gratifying; it appeared so, if not for real.

I savoured each sip from the chalice; anon, it was befouled with vicious drops of avarice. I wilfully drank of this soporific mixture, and succumbed to its effects. I was now, the host to this parasitic supervisor whom I had no power over. Greed overpowered me and never could I fully perceive the water. This was what the villagers warned me about. But, it was too late as it disseminated itself to every nerve and every muscle. Its subliminal suggestions wickedly manoeuvred my thoughts; a belief was sowed deep in me - greed was crucial for my survival. 

Into my chalice, I poured more, but never was I able to fill it fully; never it brimmed with satisfaction. More were my wants and the wants were more with time, and more the chalice grew, vigorously.

With pride I let the chalice ride with me; the size of the chalice, and its silvery shine of vanity blinded my eyes. Yet, the subdued whisper in my heart never ceased. I was certain that it was the water of waterfall that still remained in my blood, in small quantities. Its query was just – it demanded the cause for my persistent imbecility of carrying this mountainous burden with me. Inexplicable the reasons were; I could never justify the existence of my chalice with venomous covetousness in it. Any thought of defying the 'greed,' was crushed; the greed made every other thought, feeble.

I wanted answers for the existence of this chalice that I was never able to satiate. 

The subdued voice echoed without fail, the answers to questions that troubled me; all it demanded was one instant of attention to the voice. It was verily my battle with greed and the protruding truth was, I never was the warrior who would defeat greed; I had the sword and the shield, but audacity was what I never had. The struggle seemed senseless, for my defeat was written.

The shimmering light of hope continued to furnish that little phlegm required to keep me alive as the sword was piercing through my chest. “All you have to do is empty your chalice,” whispered the voice in me. “What worth was the chalice whilst its bearer takes his last breath?” I let it all go, and I once again succumbed to the effects. But, this time it was not greed, but to life whom I succumbed to. I watched the 'vicious avarice,' pour out and permeate in to the ground. 

I watched greed leaving me and the small quantities of water from the waterfall, invigorating me with its life-force. I, once again, was breathing the air filled with sweet scent of simplicity, and every breath seemed to have nothing more to it but pure 'life.'

I now knew that the chalice was not to be fully filled, for it will never brim. I understood the simplicity of its reason to exist. The chalice was to be used as a carrier to hold the joy and wisdom, momentarily. Never was it moulded to hold its contents forever. And, as I still remember my inner voice whispered to me, “Thou shalt never find thy chalice empty, for it will be filled with wisdom of another. Thou must never indeed, wish to keep thy chalice filled forever, and must pour it out to the one with an empty chalice. Thou must never cease to give, for the more thou pour out, the more thou can receive.”

Copyright (c) 2014 Shine Jayakumar