Simran Lal
Hundreds of pink, blue, white lilies. All offered to the Vajrasana (a carved stone slab gifted by Emperor Asoka to mark the spot where the Buddha gained enlightenment).
And as I looked up at the Mahabodhi temple soaring above me, I noticed so many of the designs carved in stone were some or the other aspect of the lotus.
While I am aware of the many historical, spiritual and religious connotations of the lotus and water lily, as I sat across the Vajrasana, somehow it all fell into place. I could somehow almost feel the lotus emerging from the muddy water, like a radiant Lakshmi rising out of the churning ocean.
As I offered blue water lilies to the Buddha, I could feel the somewhat slimy, muddy, dripping stalks and yet, the flowers were pristine and shining. They are the most tangible and sublime sign of hope – even in the toughest times, when things are churning, muddy, unclear, we have it in us to shine forth. A great reminder of our potential.
It is famously said, ‘No mud, no lotus’. This adds another dimension to the mud-lotus relationship. It requires some mud, some muck and pain for the lotus in us to be born and to emerge.