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Mar 18, 2018 'Sadhana – The Realisation of Life' is a breathtaking collection of spiritual discourses given by Rabindranath Tagore. A repository of the timeless wisdom of the East, Sadhana is one of the most profound books on spirituality that you will ever read! We highly recommend it to any seeker of spiritual wisdom.
We come now to the eternal problem of co-existence of theinfinite and the finite, of the supreme being and our soul.There is a sublime paradox that lies at the root of existence.We never can go round it, because we never can stand outside theproblem and weigh it against any other possible alternative. Butthe problem exists in logic only; in reality it does not offer usany difficulty at all.
Logically speaking, the distance betweentwo points, however near, may be said to be infinite because itis infinitely divisible. But we do cross the infinite at everystep, and meet the eternal in every second. Therefore some of ourphilosophers say there is no such thing as finitude; it is but amaya, an illusion. The real is the infinite, and it is onlymaya, the unreality, which causes the appearance of the finite.But the word maya is a mere name, it is no explanation.
It ismerely saying that with truth there is this appearance which isthe opposite of truth; but how they come to exist at one and thesame time is incomprehensible.We have what we call in Sanskrit dvandva, a series of oppositesin creation; such as, the positive pole and the negative, thecentripetal force and the centrifugal, attraction and repulsion.These are also mere names, they are no explanations. They areonly different ways of asserting that the world in its essence isa reconciliation of pairs of opposing forces.
These forces, likethe left and the right hands of the creator, are acting inabsolute harmony, yet acting from opposite directions. There is a bond of harmony between our two eyes, which makes themact in unison.
Likewise there is an unbreakable continuity ofrelation in the physical world between heat and cold, light anddarkness, motion and rest, as between the bass and treble notesof a piano. That is why these opposites do not bring confusionin the universe, but harmony. If creation were but a chaos, weshould have to imagine the two opposing principles as trying toget the better of each other. But the universe is not undermartial law, arbitrary and provisional. Here we find no forcewhich can run amok, or go on indefinitely in its wild road, likean exiled outlaw, breaking all harmony with its surroundings;each force, on the contrary, has to come back in a curved line toits equilibrium.
Waves rise, each to its individual height in aseeming attitude of unrelenting competition, but only up to acertain point; and thus we know of the great repose of the sea towhich they are all related, and to which they must all return ina rhythm which is marvellously beautiful.In fact, these undulations and vibrations, these risings andfallings, are not due to the erratic contortions of disparatebodies, they are a rhythmic dance. Rhythm never can be born ofthe haphazard struggle of combat.
Its underlying principle mustbe unity, not opposition.This principle of unity is the mystery of all mysteries. Theexistence of a duality at once raises a question in our minds,and we seek its solution in the One. When at last we find arelation between these two, and thereby see them as one inessence, we feel that we have come to the truth. And then wegive utterance to this most startling of all paradoxes, that theOne appears as many, that the appearance is the opposite of truthand yet is inseparably related to it.Curiously enough, there are men who lose that feeling of mystery,which is at the root of all our delights, when they discover theuniformity of law among the diversity of nature.
As ifgravitation is not more of a mystery than the fall of an apple,as if the evolution from one scale of being to the other is notsomething which is even more shy of explanation than a successionof creations. The trouble is that we very often stop at such alaw as if it were the final end of our search, and then we findthat it does not even begin to emancipate our spirit. It onlygives satisfaction to our intellect, and as it does not appeal toour whole being it only deadens in us the sense of the infinite.A great poem, when analysed, is a set of detached sounds. Thereader who finds out the meaning, which is the inner medium thatconnects these outer sounds, discovers a perfect law all through,which is never violated in the least; the law of the evolution ofideas, the law of the music and the form.But law in itself is a limit. It only shows that whatever is cannever be otherwise. When a man is exclusively occupied with thesearch for the links of causality, his mind succumbs to thetyranny of law in escaping from the tyranny of facts.
Inlearning a language, when from mere words we reach the laws ofwords we have gained a great deal. But if we stop at that point,and only concern ourselves with the marvels of the formation of alanguage, seeking the hidden reason of all its apparent caprices,we do not reach the end-for grammar is not literature, prosodyis not a poem.When we come to literature we find that though it conforms torules of grammar it is yet a thing of joy, it is freedom itself.The beauty of a poem is bound by strict laws, yet it transcendsthem. The laws are its wings, they do not keep it weighed down,they carry it to freedom. Its form is in law but its spirit isin beauty. Law is the first step towards freedom, and beauty isthe complete liberation which stands on the pedestal of law.Beauty harmonises in itself the limit and the beyond, the law andthe liberty.In the world-poem, the discovery of the law of its rhythms, themeasurement of its expansion and contraction, movement and pause,the pursuit of its evolution of forms and characters, are trueachievements of the mind; but we cannot stop there.
It is like arailway station; but the station platform is not our home. Onlyhe has attained the final truth who knows that the whole world isa creation of joy. This leads me to think how mysterious the relation of the humanheart with nature must be. In the outer world of activity naturehas one aspect, but in our hearts, in the inner world, itpresents an altogether different picture.Take an instance-the flower of a plant. However fine and daintyit may look, it is pressed to do a great service, and its coloursand forms are all suited to its work.
It must bring forth thefruit, or the continuity of plant life will be broken and theearth will be turned into a desert ere long. The colour and thesmell of the flower are all for some purpose therefore; no sooneris it fertilised by the bee, and the time of its fruitionarrives, than it sheds its exquisite petals and a cruel economycompels it to give up its sweet perfume. It has no time toflaunt its finery, for it is busy beyond measure. Viewed fromwithout, necessity seems to be the only factor in nature forwhich everything works and moves.
There the bud develops intothe flower, the flower into the fruit, the fruit into the seed,the seed into a new plant again, and so forth, the chain ofactivity running on unbroken. Should there crop up anydisturbance or impediment, no excuse would be accepted, and theunfortunate thing thus choked in its movement would at once belabelled as rejected, and be bound to die and disappear post-haste. In the great office of nature there are innumerabledepartments with endless work going on, and the fine flower thatyou behold there, gaudily attired and scented like a dandy, is byno means what it appears to be, but rather, is like a labourertoiling in sun and shower, who has to submit a clear account ofhis work and has no breathing space to enjoy himself in playfulfrolic.But when this same flower enters the heart of men its aspect ofbusy practicality is gone, and it becomes the very emblem ofleisure and repose. The same object that is the embodiment ofendless activity without is the perfect expression of beauty andpeace within.Science here warns us that we are mistaken, that the purpose of aflower is nothing but what is outwardly manifested, and that therelation of beauty and sweetness which we think it bears to us isall our own making, gratuitous and imaginary.But our heart replies that we are not in the least mistaken. Inthe sphere of nature the flower carries with it a certificatewhich recommends it as having immense capacity for doing usefulwork, but it brings an altogether different letter ofintroduction when it knocks at the door of our hearts. Beautybecomes its only qualification.
At one place it comes as aslave, and at another as a free thing. How, then, should we givecredit to its first recommendation and disbelieve the second one?That the flower has got its being in the unbroken chain ofcausation is true beyond doubt; but that is an outer truth. Theinner truth is: Verily from the everlasting joy do all objectshave their birth. Footnote: Anandadhyeva khalvimani bhutanijayante.A flower, therefore, has not its only function in nature, but hasanother great function to exercise in the mind of man. And whatis that function? In nature its work is that of a servant whohas to make his appearance at appointed times, but in the heartof man it comes like a messenger from the King.
In theRamayana, when Sita, forcibly separated from her husband, wasbewailing her evil fate in Ravana's golden palace, she was metby a messenger who brought with him a ring of her belovedRamachandra himself. The very sight of it convinced Sita ofthe truth of tidings he bore. She was at once reassured that hecame indeed from her beloved one, who had not forgotten her andwas at hand to rescue her.Such a messenger is a flower from our great lover. Surroundedwith the pomp and pageantry of worldliness, which may be linkedto Ravana's golden city, we still live in exile, while theinsolent spirit of worldly prosperity tempts us with allurementsand claims us as its bride. In the meantime the flower comesacross with a message from the other shore, and whispers in ourears, 'I am come. He has sent me. I am a messenger of thebeautiful, the one whose soul is the bliss of love.
This islandof isolation has been bridged over by him, and he has notforgotten thee, and will rescue thee even now. He will draw theeunto him and make thee his own.
This illusion will not hold theein thraldom for ever.' If we happen to be awake then, we question him: 'How are we toknow that thou art come from him indeed?' The messenger says,'Look! I have this ring from him. How lovely are its hues andcharms!'
Ah, doubtless it is his-indeed, it is our wedding ring. Now allelse passes into oblivion, only this sweet symbol of the touch ofthe eternal love fills us with a deep longing. We realise thatthe palace of gold where we are has nothing to do with us-ourdeliverance is outside it-and there our love has its fruitionand our life its fulfilment.What to the bee in nature is merely colour and scent, and themarks or spots which show the right track to the honey, is to thehuman heart beauty and joy untrammelled by necessity.
They bringa love letter to the heart written in many-coloured inks.I was telling you, therefore, that however busy our active natureoutwardly may be, she has a secret chamber within the heart whereshe comes and goes freely, without any design whatsoever. Therethe fire of her workshop is transformed into lamps of a festival,the noise of her factory is heard like music.
The iron chain ofcause and effect sounds heavily outside in nature, but in thehuman heart its unalloyed delight seems to sound, as it were,like the golden strings of a harp.It indeed seems to be wonderful that nature has these two aspectsat one and the same time, and so antithetical-one being ofthraldom and the other of freedom. In the same form, sound,colour, and taste two contrary notes are heard, one of necessityand the other of joy. Outwardly nature is busy and restless,inwardly she is all silence and peace. She has toil on one sideand leisure on the other. You see her bondage only when you seeher from without, but within her heart is a limitless beauty.Our seer says, 'From joy are born all creatures, by joy they aresustained, towards joy they progress, and into joy they enter.' Not that he ignores law, or that his contemplation of thisinfinite joy is born of the intoxication produced by anindulgence in abstract thought. He fully recognises theinexorable laws of nature, and says, 'Fire burns for fear of him(i.e.
By his law); the sun shines by fear of him; and for fear ofhim the wind, the clouds, and death perform their offices.' Itis a reign of iron rule, ready to punish the least transgression.Yet the poet chants the glad song, 'From joy are born allcreatures, by joy they are sustained, towards joy they progress,and into joy they enter.' The immortal being manifests himself in joy-form.
Footnote:Anandarupamamritam yad vibhati. His manifestation in creationis out of his fullness of joy. It is the nature of thisabounding joy to realise itself in form which is law. The joy,which is without form, must create, must translate itself intoforms. The joy of the singer is expressed in the form of a song,that of the poet in the form of a poem. Man in his role of acreator is ever creating forms, and they come out of hisabounding joy.This joy, whose other name is love, must by its very nature haveduality for its realisation. When the singer has his inspirationhe makes himself into two; he has within him his other self asthe hearer, and the outside audience is merely an extension ofthis other self of his.
The lover seeks his own other self inhis beloved. It is the joy that creates this separation, inorder to realise through obstacles of union.The amritam, the immortal bliss, has made himself into two.Our soul is the loved one, it is his other self. We areseparate; but if this separation were absolute, then there wouldhave been absolute misery and unmitigated evil in this world.Then from untruth we never could reach truth, and from sin wenever could hope to attain purity of heart; then all oppositeswould ever remain opposites, and we could never find a mediumthrough which our differences could ever tend to meet. Then wecould have no language, no understanding, no blending of hearts,no co-operation in life. But on the contrary, we find that theseparateness of objects is in a fluid state.
Theirindividualities are even changing, they are meeting and merginginto each other, till science itself is turning into metaphysics,matter losing its boundaries, and the definition of life becomingmore and more indefinite.Yes, our individual soul has been separated from the supremesoul, but this has not been from alienation but from the fullnessof love. It is for that reason that untruths, sufferings, andevils are not at a standstill; the human soul can defy them, canovercome them, nay, can altogether transform them into new powerand beauty.The singer is translating his song into singing, his joy intoforms, and the hearer has to translate back the singing into theoriginal joy; then the communion between the singer and thehearer is complete. The infinite joy is manifesting itself inmanifold forms, taking upon itself the bondage of law, and wefulfil our destiny when we go back from forms to joy, from law tothe love, when we untie the knot of the finite and hark back tothe infinite.The human soul is on its journey from the law to love, fromdiscipline to liberation, from the moral plane to the spiritual.Buddha preached the discipline of self-restraint and moral life;it is a complete acceptance of law. But this bondage of lawcannot be an end by itself; by mastering it thoroughly we acquirethe means of getting beyond it. It is going back to Brahma, tothe infinite love, which is manifesting itself through the finiteforms of law. Buddha names it Brahma-vihara, the joy of livingin Brahma.
He who wants to reach this stage, according to Buddha,'shall deceive none, entertain no hatred for anybody, and neverwish to injure through anger. He shall have measureless love forall creatures, even as a mother has for her only child, whom sheprotects with her own life. Up above, below, and all around himhe shall extend his love, which is without bounds and obstacles,and which is free from all cruelty and antagonism. Whilestanding, sitting, walking, lying down, till he fall asleep, heshall keep his mind active in this exercise of universal goodwill.' Want of love is a degree of callousness; for love is theperfection of consciousness. We do not love because we do notcomprehend, or rather we do not comprehend because we do notlove. For love is the ultimate meaning of everything around us.It is not a mere sentiment; it is truth; it is the joy that is atthe root of all creation.
It is the white light of pureconsciousness that emanates from Brahma. So, to be one with thissarvanubhuh, this all-feeling being who is in the external sky,as well as in our inner soul, we must attain to that summit ofconsciousness, which is love: Who could have breathed or movedif the sky were not filled with joy, with love? Footnote: Kohyevanyat kah pranyat yadesha akaca anando na syat. It isthrough the heightening of our consciousness into love, andextending it all over the world, that we can attainBrahma-vihara, communion with this infinite joy.Love spontaneously gives itself in endless gifts. But thesegifts lose their fullest significance if through them we do notreach that love, which is the giver.
To do that, we must havelove in our own heart. He who has no love in him values thegifts of his lover only according to their usefulness. Bututility is temporary and partial. It can never occupy our wholebeing; what is useful only touches us at the point where we havesome want. When the want is satisfied, utility becomes a burdenif it still persists.
On the other hand, a mere token is ofpermanent worth to us when we have love in our heart. For it isnot for any special use.
It is an end in itself; it is for ourwhole being and therefore can never tire us.The question is, In what manner do we accept this world, which isa perfect gift of joy? How to factory reset a compaq laptop windows 7. Have we been able to receive it in ourheart where we keep enshrined things that are of deathless valueto us? We are frantically busy making use of the forces of theuniverse to gain more and more power; we feed and we clotheourselves from its stores, we scramble for its riches, and itbecomes for us a field of fierce competition. But were we bornfor this, to extend our proprietary rights over this world andmake of it a marketable commodity?
When our whole mind is bentonly upon making use of this world it loses for us its truevalue. We make it cheap by our sordid desires; and thus to theend of our days we only try to feed upon it and miss its truth,just like the greedy child who tears leaves from a precious bookand tries to swallow them.In the lands where cannibalism is prevalent man looks upon man ashis food. In such a country civilisation can never thrive, forthere man loses his higher value and is made common indeed.
Butthere are other kinds of cannibalism, perhaps not so gross, butnot less heinous, for which one need not travel far. Incountries higher in the scale of civilisation we find sometimesman looked upon as a mere body, and he is bought and sold in themarket by the price of his flesh only. And sometimes he gets hissole value from being useful; he is made into a machine, and istraded upon by the man of money to acquire for him more money.Thus our lust, our greed, our love of comfort result incheapening man to his lowest value. It is self deception on alarge scale. Our desires blind us to the truth that there isin man, and this is the greatest wrong done by ourselves to ourown soul. It deadens our consciousness, and is but a gradualmethod of spiritual suicide.
It produces ugly sores in the bodyof civilisation, gives rise to its hovels and brothels, itsvindictive penal codes, its cruel prison systems, its organisedmethod of exploiting foreign races to the extent of permanentlyinjuring them by depriving them of the discipline of self-government and means of self-defence.Of course man is useful to man, because his body is a marvellousmachine and his mind an organ of wonderful efficiency. But he isa spirit as well, and this spirit is truly known only by love.When we define a man by the market value of the service we canexpect of him, we know him imperfectly. With this limitedknowledge of him it becomes easy for us to be unjust to him andto entertain feelings of triumphant self-congratulation when, onaccount of some cruel advantage on our side, we can get out ofhim much more than we have paid for.
But when we know him as aspirit we know him as our own. We at once feel that cruelty tohim is cruelty to ourselves, to make him small is stealing fromour own humanity, and in seeking to make use of him solely forpersonal profit we merely gain in money or comfort what we pay intruth.One day I was out in a boat on the Ganges. It was a beautifulevening in autumn. The sun had just set; the silence of the skywas full to the brim with ineffable peace and beauty.
The vastexpanse of water was without a ripple, mirroring all the changingshades of the sunset glow. Miles and miles of a desolatesandbank lay like a huge amphibious reptile of some antediluvianage, with its scales glistening in shining colours. As our boatwas silently gliding by the precipitous river-bank, riddled withthe nest-holes of a colony of birds, suddenly a big fish leapt upto the surface of the water and then disappeared, displaying onits vanishing figure all the colours of the evening sky. It drewaside for a moment the many-coloured screen behind which therewas a silent world full of the joy of life. It came up from thedepths of its mysterious dwelling with a beautiful dancing motionand added its own music to the silent symphony of the dying day.I felt as if I had a friendly greeting from an alien world in itsown language, and it touched my heart with a flash of gladness.Then suddenly the man at the helm exclaimed with a distinct noteof regret, 'Ah, what a big fish!' It at once brought before hisvision the picture of the fish caught and made ready for hissupper. He could only look at the fish through his desire, andthus missed the whole truth of its existence.
But man is notentirely an animal. He aspires to a spiritual vision, which isthe vision of the whole truth.
This gives him the highestdelight, because it reveals to him the deepest harmony thatexists between him and his surroundings. It is our desires thatlimit the scope of our self-realisation, hinder our extension ofconsciousness, and give rise to sin, which is the innermostbarrier that keeps us apart from our God, setting up disunion andthe arrogance of exclusiveness. For sin is not one mere action,but it is an attitude of life which takes for granted that ourgoal is finite, that our self is the ultimate truth, and that weare not all essentially one but exist each for his own separateindividual existence.So I repeat we never can have a true view of man unless we have alove for him. Civilisation must be judged and prized, not by theamount of power it has developed, but by how much it has evolvedand given expression to, by its laws and institutions, the loveof humanity.
The first question and the last which it has toanswer is, Whether and how far it recognises man more as a spiritthan a machine? Whenever some ancient civilisation fell intodecay and died, it was owing to causes which produced callousnessof heart and led to the cheapening of man's worth; when eitherthe state or some powerful group of men began to look upon thepeople as a mere instrument of their power; when, by compellingweaker races to slavery and trying to keep them down by everymeans, man struck at the foundation of his greatness, his ownlove of freedom and fair-play. Civilisation can never sustainitself upon cannibalism of any form.
For that by which alone manis true can only be nourished by love and justice.As with man, so with this universe. When we look at the worldthrough the veil of our desires we make it small and narrow, andfail to perceive its full truth.
Of course it is obvious thatthe world serves us and fulfils our needs, but our relation to itdoes not end there. We are bound to it with a deeper and truerbond than that of necessity. Our soul is drawn to it; our loveof life is really our wish to continue our relation with thisgreat world. This relation is one of love. We are glad that weare in it; we are attached to it with numberless threads, whichextend from this earth to the stars. Man foolishly tries toprove his superiority by imagining his radical separateness fromwhat he calls his physical world, which, in his blind fanaticism,he sometimes goes to the extent of ignoring altogether, holdingit at his direst enemy.
Yet the more his knowledge progresses,the more it becomes difficult for man to establish thisseparateness, and all the imaginary boundaries he had set uparound himself vanish one after another. Every time we lose someof our badges of absolute distinction by which we conferred uponour humanity the right to hold itself apart from its surroundings,it gives us a shock of humiliation. But we have to submit tothis. If we set up our pride on the path of our self-realisationto create divisions and disunion, then it must sooner or latercome under the wheels of truth and be ground to dust.
No, we arenot burdened with some monstrous superiority, unmeaning in itssingular abruptness. It would be utterly degrading for us tolive in a world immeasurably less than ourselves in the quality ofsoul, just as it would be repulsive and degrading to be surroundedand served by a host of slaves, day and night, from birth to themoment of death. On the contrary, this world is our compeer, nay,we are one with it.Through our progress in science the wholeness of the world andour oneness with it is becoming clearer to our mind. When thisperception of the perfection of unity is not merely intellectual,when it opens out our whole being into a luminous consciousnessof the all, then it becomes a radiant joy, an overspreading love.Our spirit finds its larger self in the whole world, and isfilled with an absolute certainty that it is immortal. It dies ahundred times in its enclosures of self; for separateness isdoomed to die, it cannot be made eternal. But it never can diewhere it is one with the all, for there is its truth, its joy.When a man feels the rhythmic throb of the soul-life of the wholeworld in his own soul, then is he free.
Then he enters into thesecret courting that goes on between this beautiful world-bride,veiled with the veil of the many-coloured finiteness, and theparamatmam, the bridegroom, in his spotless white. Then heknows that he is the partaker of this gorgeous love festival, andhe is the honoured guest at the feast of immortality. Then heunderstands the meaning of the seer-poet who sings, 'From love theworld is born, by love it is sustained, towards love it moves, andinto love it enters.' In love all the contradictions of existence merge themselves andare lost. Only in love are unity and duality not at variance.Love must be one and two at the same time.Only love is motion and rest in one. Our heart ever changes itsplace till it finds love, and then it has its rest. But thisrest itself is an intense form of activity where utter quiescenceand unceasing energy meet at the same point in love.In love, loss and gain are harmonised.
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In its balance-sheet,credit and debit accounts are in the same column, and gifts areadded to gains. In this wonderful festival of creation, thisgreat ceremony of self-sacrifice of God, the lover constantlygives himself up to gain himself in love.
Indeed, love is whatbrings together and inseparably connects both the act ofabandoning and that of receiving.In love, at one of its poles you find the personal, and at theother the impersonal. At one you have the positive assertion-Here I am; at the other the equally strong denial-I am not.Without this ego what is love? And again, with only this ego howcan love be possible?Bondage and liberation are not antagonistic in love. For love ismost free and at the same time most bound. If God wereabsolutely free there would be no creation. The infinite beinghas assumed unto himself the mystery of finitude. And in him whois love the finite and the infinite are made one.Similarly, when we talk about the relative values of freedom andnon-freedom, it becomes a mere play of words.
It is not that wedesire freedom alone, we want thraldom as well. It is the highfunction of love to welcome all limitations and to transcendthem. For nothing is more independent than love, and where else,again, shall we find so much of dependence? In love, thraldom isas glorious as freedom.The Vaishnava religion has boldly declared that God has boundhimself to man, and in that consists the greatest glory of humanexistence. In the spell of the wonderful rhythm of the finite hefetters himself at every step, and thus gives his love out inmusic in his most perfect lyrics of beauty.
Beauty is his wooingof our heart; it can have no other purpose. It tells useverywhere that the display of power is not the ultimate meaningof creation; wherever there is a bit of colour, a note of song, agrace of form, there comes the call for our love. Hunger compelsus to obey its behests, but hunger is not the last word for a man.There have been men who have deliberately defied its commands toshow that the human soul is not to be led by the pressure of wantsand threat of pain. In fact, to live the life of man we have toresist its demands every day, the least of us as well as thegreatest. But, on the other hand, there is a beauty in the worldwhich never insults our freedom, never raises even its littlefinger to make us acknowledge its sovereignty. We can absolutelyignore it and suffer no penalty in consequence. It is a call tous, but not a command.
It seeks for love in us, and love cannever be had by compulsion. Compulsion is not indeed the finalappeal to man, but joy is. Any joy is everywhere; it is in theearth's green covering of grass; in the blue serenity of the sky;in the reckless exuberance of spring; in the severe abstinence ofgrey winter; in the living flesh that animates our bodily frame;in the perfect poise of the human figure, noble and upright; inliving; in the exercise of all our powers; in the acquisition ofknowledge; in fighting evils; in dying for gains we never canshare. Joy is there everywhere; it is superfluous, unnecessary;nay, it very often contradicts the most peremptory behests ofnecessity. It exists to show that the bonds of law can only beexplained by love; they are like body and soul.
Joy is therealisation of the truth of oneness, the oneness of our soul withthe world and of the world-soul with the supreme lover.» » ».
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