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A dew-drop rests on the petal of a rose, trembling, ever trembling, with a fearful consciousness of its own doom, he said, how can it reach the ocean? Its heart yearns to reach its destination, but it is helpless. The ocean is nowhere in sight. There is no one who might tell where it lies. And even if that were known, how could the little drop of dew leave its resting place and cover the distance?

Makaane yaar door az man na par daaram na paaye dil
Ajab dar mushkil uftaadam chunaa tai saazam een manzil

The House of my Beloved is far away I have neither wings nor feet-O heart!
A strange difficulty entraps me–how can I reach my destination!

This is the plaintive cry of the dew-drop. But just when it has begun to give up hope, a piercing ray of light from the sun enters into its midst and causes it to evaporate. The dew-drop becomes a wisp of smoke and rises into the heavens.
“It enters the clouds where hundreds of other dew-drops like it await union with the ocean. Their task appears hopeless.
“But there comes the wind which drives the clouds across the skies till they come to hover above the ocean.
“And, finally, the drop falls from the clouds and merges into the essence of its real self. The dew-drop enters the depths of the ocean and cries out in union:

‘Aa gayaa aanaa jahaan, pahunchaa vahaan jaanaa jahaan,
Ab naheen aanaa va jaanaa, kaam kyaa baaki rahaa

I have arrived where I had to arrive, I have reached where I had to reach,
There is no wandering now, for me any more, no task left that remains to be done!’

“In a like manner, when man realises his helplessness, and at the same time is seized by an intense desire to reach God, it is time for the Grace of God to come to him, like the ray of light from the Sun, and to take him to God through diverse routes of realisation.”