If Chance can lead to an accident, then the latter can also be turned into an opportunity. It becomes a pointer, and can be utilised to explore the darkness that is present in the subconscient depth. When the Sphinx born from the dark inscrutable Shadow is overpowered she kills herself. That is the only way of removing her from the path of the mystic traveller. The design of perfection seems to lie buried in the crudest kind of distortion and discordance. It looks as though the brilliance of light can be gauged or measured by its power to penetrate the thick obscurity and strength of darkness without it getting attenuated or refracted or lost in that shadowy murkiness. What is coarse and ugly and repulsive makes what is beautiful and far and yet unwon to stand out more prominently, in immense calm of triumph. The fulfilment of bliss is augmented and made yet keener by the intensity of pain and agony. The glory of the Triple Crown put on the head of the creation becomes more fulgent when ugliness and squalor and filth of the lower unregenerate nature rise but to vanish; for, surely these must disappear, disappear like a bad dream. The marvel of omnipresence lies in its capacity to absent itself from all that is profane and stubborn and distasteful.

If this mortal creation, in spite of its immediate origin in the operative Inconscience, has to become a divine creation, then the full play of Inconscience must be allowed in its own free and undiluted unhindered delight, perverse although it might look. The great Denial cannot be denied its right of assault, of treachery and deceit. Nor does it wait for consent from a feeble soul. It is as if by that operative Inconscience does the divineness of the Divine shine out in greater splendour with the absoluteness of this sovereignty. In fact that is the way we have to see the All-Divine in the play of a growing manifestation, that it can thus become more rich and opulent and splendid in it—because the Inconscience too is infinite, it is designedly infinite offering its ground for the divine infinities to dwell in this manifold of creation. But that demands a yogic effort. The thick viscous and bitter and biting poison-draught of mortality has to be drunk fully, that not even a single drop be left behind. Aswapati has done that. What Shiva did in the World of the Gods to become Nilakanţha, that Aswapati did in the evolutionary field. This is understandably crucial, necessary—even inevitable, because otherwise the unlit and insignificant-looking driblet of that malignant death could again expand and turn into an earth- and sky-filling ocean of total darkness, salilam apraketam of the Vedic description.

Which means that, the demand of the obstinate and uncompromising Inconscience is there not for nothing; its impulsion is towards the perfection of the absolute Truth coming into expression. The ignorant “No” is therefore the last testing ground of the quality of Aswapati the Yogi’s yoga-tapasya.  Not that these tests are designed or devised or incorporated in the process in the manner of a well-engineered mechanism. Rather these spring up by the very nature of the respective truths in operation. The full scope for the functioning of the Truth of Inconscience has to be understood. It must be granted the full sway of its dark evil creative role howsoever unacceptable it be. Aswapati must therefore extirpate all negation, from every part, from the recesses of his being. Only then can the gold-orange influx in its fluent splendour and limitless plenty flow even in the nerves of his body. His body’s cells too must become the luminous receptacles of that superior Light and Love and Joy. Such is the preparation demanded by the Mother Wisdom seated above in all her white radiance.

There is an atheist voice seated deep within, within as well as all around us, and it is necessary that it first be silenced. In its prudence and sagacity it insistently and persuasively argues that it is in slow cycles of time that the prude-sensible, the sagacious operate,— (p. 651)

Lest man’s frail days into the unknown should sink

Dragged like a ship by bound leviathan

Into the abyss of his stupendous seas.

Lo, how all shakes when the gods tread too near!

All moves, is in peril, anguished, torn, upheaved.

The hurrying aeons would stumble on too swift

If strength from heaven surprised the imperfect earth

And veilless knowledge smote these unfit souls.

The deities have screened their dreadful power:

God hides his thought and, even, he seems to err.

It indeed is grace that the deities have screened their frightful powers from the frail and fragile and fumbling soul of man. This atheism at the base of the evolution cannot be wished away, dismissed. At the same time, great effort is needed to take care of it if one has to be more watchful and sagacious. But then the Son of Strength cannot wait for the process of growth to proceed in the manner of a drudge and a weakling, let it move in the pace of a straggler, the uncertain working of Nature somehow and sometime arriving at this stage of great affirmation. No doubt in it there is sufficient intention, and no doubt one day or other it may happen that way. But then there are also uncertainties, and its failure could possibly mean another dissolution or pralaya.

There is the operative memory of such past happenings in the earth's subconscious soul, and ever the fear of death lurks deep in its dark bosom. Waiting indefinitely, or for too long that eventually the soul of man may get ready, can certainly not be the basis of Aswapati’s yogic project; such cannot be the mode of his enterprise. Perhaps this subconscious soul may not even get ready if left only to itself. Perhaps, and more importantly, the seeding of the higher in the lower has to be constantly there for its own bright and happy fruition. God’s coming here as Vibhutis and Avatars precisely brings that assurance to it. But at present in the evolutionary course a more decisive moment has arrived, has been made to arrive. Everything now seems to be pointing only towards the transformative action of the Divine in the inconscient nature of things. For too long have we been witnessing this frustration in the earth-process. It is now opportune that the charge of man's soul be taken over by the supreme Mother herself. Hence, again, everything is brought back to the focal point of Aswapati’s yoga-tapasya. It is uniquely true, and great, that (pp. 301-02)

He communed with the Incommunicable;

Beings of a wider consciousness were his friends,

Forms of a larger subtler make drew near;

The Gods conversed with him behind Life’s veil.

Neighbour his being grew to Nature’s crests.

The primal Energy took him in its arms;

His brain was wrapped in overwhelming Light,

An all-embracing knowledge seized his heart:

Thoughts rose in him no earthly mind can hold,

Mights played that never coursed through mortal nerves...

His finite parts approached their absolutes,

His actions framed the movements of the Gods,

His will took up the reins of cosmic Force.

Even his physical members that never saw light have now become channels for the rush of the corresponding immortal energies. Celebrated cosmic forces are presently at his full command and he can shape cosmic movements in their sufficient efficacy.