Trail of Immortality (Looking through the Veil of Eternity)

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What is the true connection between insects, plants, animals and man?
What is the root cause of most fears and phobias?
What happens to people who commit suicide?
Insights into the above puzzles and more can be found in my new book:
"Trail of Immortality."

Excerpt:

The third speaker who comes in surprises me. Although this
is one of the musicians who earlier entertained and healed
me of my unknown ailment, I am amazed to discover that
she is a woman. I thought they were all men. Then I remember
what Chiva said about the need to be more aware of my
environment. Talk about appearances and perceptions.
Her curly, dark hair does not flow behind her back. She
wears it up like a man’s short wig and appears Italian. She
is of an average height and between twenty and thirty years
old. But the calmness of mind and bearing that they all exude
surrounds her with a rejuvenating, bright halo of the saintly
ancients. This makes her look like a teenager, although she
might be several centuries old.
Her rounded face beams out two prominent cheekbones.
Her lips glow reddish and curved with immediate, sensual
attractions. Her eyes are greenish and big. They emit back to
the boys in class deep rivers of divine love, unreachable by
any wild, romantic cravings. She generously points with her
small but firm hands as she speaks.
The boys in class all wake up and stretch. Her arrival
draws them out of their shells, including me, I must confess.
The girls gawk at her beauty and graceful carriage with jealous
admiration. But all her smiles send out to us is pure,
divine love.
“My name is Daya,” she starts to speak. “I have been
asked to talk to you about love, and I expect to learn from
you all, as well. Tell me, how many of you have ever kissed
the lips of another?” she takes us by storm. And we all love
it. She darts her all-seeing eyes like an airborne eagle sweeping
the plains for prey. Her smiles loosen up everybody. One
of the boys sitting in the front row raises his right hand. She
gingerly walks over to him.
“Now tell me. How did you feel during and after the kiss?”
she asks further.
“The boy scratches his head and fidgets. It’s obvious that
he does not expect the second question from Daya. All the
same, he decides to hazard an answer.
“I felt happy.”
“Good!” Daya radiates excitement. “Happiness is the
word. Thank you very much. Your greatest need on Earth
is happiness. That is why everybody craves it. And that is
why it is in so short supply as well. And that is why there
is so much unhappiness among you mankind. One hidden
fact unknown to people is that beneath your search for happiness
is soul’s eternal longing for God. Happiness is like
the rain. The soil needs it to survive and sustain life. But the
soil knows that it must, first of all, yield all its water to the
sky. And it’s just a matter of time before the selfless sky will
release all back to the soil in due seasons. Over the billions
of years of their mutual existences, the soil and the sky have
learned this singular, all-important lesson so well; that for
us to receive, we must first give to life. And so it must be
with you human beings, too. You are too selfish.” She waits
for her mild offense to sink in.
Her last comment digs a deep hole in our fragile consciences.
Some of the students look down and draw meaningless,
invisible lines on the floor. But Daya gently but firmly
fixes her stripping eyes on the fallen faces of hidden guilt. She
quickly resurrects them with the healing sound of love.
“The world is sustained by selfless actions,” she continues.
“Once you stop thinking of and about yourself all the
time, you can then become a pure channel of divine love.
Then the Divine Force will shower you with endless love,
just as the sky drenches the soil with perennial rain. And you
shall never lack anything again. Because you are now living
and doing for others, the immortal gods will do for you,
always. They can’t help but use and love you as a fellow,
divine vessel.
“Look at the African wild dogs. They eat meat during a
hunt and return to regurgitate all to feed their puppies. In doing
so, they maintain a healthy, hunting pack forever. But the
selfish lion cares only about himself, and so infant mortality
is highest among his cubs. One of your good poets once
said, ‘A miser gets poorer with each hoard.’ Remember to
put the other person first when next you make love. Try not
to eat each other like a pack of hungry, self-centered wolves
fighting for scarce meat in winter. Try putting the satisfaction
of your mate first, and always remember this wise old
saying: ‘As the hand washes the back, the back also washes
the hand.’ Be good lovers, and you shall come to know true
happiness in your lives.” She finishes and leaves.

From Chapter 9, House of Knowledge, pp.69-71.