From God to God - a periodic motion 

- Rajeeva Nayan Pathak, M.Sc. Phy,MA Sanskrit 

When a child is born, the first proclamation of life is not a word but a rhythm—the rapid beating of a tiny heart. Science observes that a newborn’s heart beats nearly twice as fast as that of an adult. Yet this speed is not merely biological; it symbolises a soul that has just emerged from the Source, still untouched by the weight of the world.

It is often said that a child is nearer to God. This nearness is not the result of discipline, knowledge, or spiritual effort. It is natural nearness. The child has no ego to protect, no past to regret, no future to fear. Trust is spontaneous, dependence complete. Innocence itself becomes prayer. The child does not know God intellectually, yet lives in God existentially.

The Upanisads describe the ultimate reality as peaceful, actionless, and pure - qualities that a child reflects effortlessly.

निष्कलं निष्क्रियम् शान्तं निरवद्यम् निरञ्जनम् ।

 - बृहदारण्यक उपनिषद् 4.4.23

The Self is without parts, without action, peaceful, faultless, and pure.

In this sense, the child mirrors the nature of the Self, not by understanding, but by being.

As life advances, the heartbeat gradually slows and stabilises. Childhood flows into youth and adulthood. Energy now turns outward. Ambitions arise, identities solidify, desires multiply. The senses rush towards objects, and life gathers speed—not necessarily in the heart, but in the mind. God, once lived unconsciously, now appears distant, remembered mostly in rituals, words, or moments of helplessness.

This outward flow is not accidental. The Kaṭha Upanisad explains that the human being is designed initially to look outward:

पराञ्चि खानि व्यतृणत् स्वयम्भूः

 तस्मात् पराङ् पश्यति नान्तरात्मन् ।

 कठोपनिषद् 2.1.1 (first half)

The Self-existent made the senses outward-going; therefore one perceives the outer world and not the inner Self.

Thus, the middle years of life are meant for engagement with the world—experience, struggle, learning, and even forgetting.

Then comes old age. The heartbeat softens further; the body conserves energy. More importantly, the mind begins to withdraw. Desires lose urgency, ambitions fade, and silence—once uncomfortable—becomes meaningful. Reflection replaces pursuit. The gaze slowly turns inward.

The same Kaṭha Upanisad completes the picture:

कश्चिद्धीरः प्रत्यगात्मानमैक्षत् आवृत्तचक्षुरमृतत्वमिच्छन् ॥

 - कठोपनिषद् 2.1.1 (second half)

But a wise person, desiring immortality, turns the senses inward and beholds the inner Self.

This inward turning is the true movement towards God. The nearness of old age is not accidental; it is earned through experience.

As the senses and mind settle, stillness deepens. The Upanisads clearly state that the highest state is reached not by activity, but by cessation of inner movement:

यदा पञ्चावतिष्ठन्ते ज्ञानानि मनसा सह 

 बुद्धिश्च न विचेष्टते तामाहुः परमां गतिम् ॥

 - कठोपनिषद् 2.3.10

When the five senses rest along with the mind, and even the intellect becomes still, that state is called the supreme destination.

Here, the slowing heartbeat becomes symbolic of an inner truth: God is encountered in stillness, not in speed.

Life, therefore, is not a straight journey away from God, but a circle.

The Mundaka Upanisad offers a luminous metaphor:

यथा नद्यः स्यन्दमानाः समुद्रे अस्तं गच्छन्ति नामरूपे विहाय ।

तथा विद्वान् नामरूपाद्विमुक्तः परात्परं पुरुषमुपैति दिव्यम् ॥

 - मुण्डकोपनिषद् 3.2.8

Just as rivers flowing reach the ocean, abandoning name and form, so the knower, freed from name and form, attains the Supreme Divine.

The child is like a river just emerging from the mountain—pure and close to its source. Life is the long flow through varied terrains. Old age, enriched by understanding, is the merging back into the ocean.

Truly it is said -

The child is near God because it has not yet forgotten.

The old are near God because they have finally remembered.

One nearness is of innocence, the other of realisation.

Between these two lies the entire human journey. The periodic motion, punarapi janmam punarapi marnam!

The body moves away from life,

the heartbeat slows,

but the soul moves closer to its origin.

From God we come, and to God we return - 

guided all along by the silent, sacred rhythm of the heart.

Hari  aum tat sat!

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