The Joy of Being
“Tadaiko vasishtah shivah kevaloham…
(When everything else is negated, what remains is the One, Shiva, the Absolute…)
The air between the two ascetics had become electric, vibrating with a terrifying and beautiful clarity. Seven verses had echoed off the ancient stone, each one a masterful, unyielding stroke of a chisel carving away the false. Shankara had stripped away the elements, the senses, the intellect, the ego, the bindings of karma, the crutches of religion, and even the very architecture of perception.
He had brought his own awareness, and the awareness of Govinda Bhagavatpada who sat listening in the shadows, to the absolute edge of existence.
For the ordinary mind, this edge looks like a terrifying abyss. We spend our lives terrified of losing our identity. We hoard memories, build reputations, and cling to our physical forms because we secretly fear that without these things, we are nothing. We equate the loss of the ego with the terror of annihilation. If I am not my body, not my mind, not my memories, not my experiences… then do I simply cease to be? Do I dissolve into a cold, dark void?
But Shankara, standing at the very precipice of the abyss, did not flinch. He let the final remnants of his constructed self fall away. And in that ultimate surrender, he discovered the greatest secret of the universe: he did not fall. He flew.
The negation of Neti, Neti (“not this, not this”) had finally reached its limit. The stage was completely empty. The actors had departed, the props were dismantled, and the lights were extinguished. Yet, there was an undeniable presence that remained to witness the emptiness.
“Tadaiko vasishtah…” When everything else is negated, what remains…
What remains when you remove everything that can be removed? It is not an empty void. It is the canvas itself. It is the vast, silent, shimmering screen upon which the entire movie of the universe was being projected. Shankara realized that the subtraction of the false does not lead to zero; it leads to infinity. It leads to the Absolute, the Brahman, the One without a second.
“…shivah kevaloham.” …is the One, Shiva, the Absolute. I am Shiva.
With this ecstatic declaration, the tone of the Dashashloki undergoes a magnificent transformation. The methodical, surgical process of tearing down the illusion is replaced by a triumphant, ringing assertion of truth. The young ascetic was no longer describing what he was not; he was finally, fiercely declaring what he is.
To understand this, we must strip the name “Shiva” of its mythological baggage. Shankara was not claiming to be the blue-throated, trident-bearing deity of the Hindu pantheon who resides on Mount Kailash. In the pure, non-dual language of Advaita Vedanta, the word Shiva means “that which is perfectly auspicious.” It is the essence of absolute purity, the unblemished, luminous consciousness that remains when the dirt of duality is washed away.
Kevaloham – “I am that alone.”
This was not a statement of arrogance; it was the ultimate humility. The ego – the small “I” that claims ownership and uniqueness – had been utterly destroyed. The “I” that was now speaking was the universal “I,” the singular heartbeat of existence.
This realization is accompanied by an indescribable, uncaused joy. When we rely on the world for happiness, our joy is fragile. It depends on the right circumstances, the right people, the right outcomes. But the joy Shankara was experiencing was the sheer, intoxicating joy of Being. It was a bliss that did not require a reason. It was the relief of a man who has carried a crushing weight on his shoulders for a thousand lifetimes, only to suddenly realize he can set it down.
In the depths of this inner radiance, the young boy from Kerala had vanished. In his place was the undeniable, ancient presence of the Absolute. He had pierced the veil of the universe, moving past the fleeting shadows of sorrow and the fragile sparks of human happiness, to rest in the blazing sun of his own eternal nature.
When everything that can be stripped away is gone, what remains is not an empty void, but the luminous, undeniable presence of the Absolute.
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