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Charanbai madhu vindati charantsvadu mudambaram.
Suryasya pasya sreemanam yo na tandrayate charan.
Charaiveti. Charaiveti.
(Aitareya Upanishad, 7.15)

[Translation: The honey bees keep moving and collect honey. Birds keep moving and enjoy tasty fruits. The constantly shining sun keeps moving and is worshiped. One should (also) keep moving. Keep moving. Keep moving.]
{Charaiveti= Chara+eva+iti = moving + only + thus}

The man, his thoughts, his actions, his words, all that is living, all that is not living, all that has been created, all that is being created, all that shall be created, all religions, all histories, all civilizations, all cultures, all sciences, all arts, all literature, all political thoughts, all economic thoughts, you, me…nothing is complete.

Perhaps, the only thing that is complete is our singular concept, our faith, our belief, our ideal, our God; the God.

The beauty of the truth, the truth the man can comprehend, lies in his faith and efforts for completing the incomplete.

The moment anyone, an incomplete man, stops; erroneously thinking that he has thought about what was there to be thought about, has done what was there to be done or has said what was there to be said; the beauty recedes and the ugliness comes to the fore.

I think Gandhi had internalized what I have tried to write above, but, maybe, what I have written above is also incomplete.

[The writer of this blog has authored “Mahatma A Scientist of the Intuitively Obvious” and thereafter “In Search of Our Wonderful Words”.]