Who Asks and Who Answers?

Nidagha approached his master with folded hands and spoke: "O Ribhu, blessed teacher, I come to you seeking knowledge of the Self. Please instruct me in the truth of Brahman."

Ribhu remained silent for a long moment, his eyes reflecting the infinite sky. Then he spoke:

"Nidagha, before I answer, tell me this: Who is it that asks? And who do you imagine will receive this knowledge?"

Nidagha replied: "I, your humble student, ask. And I hope to receive this wisdom so that I may attain liberation."

Ribhu smiled gently. "You speak of 'I' so easily. But have you examined this 'I'? When you say 'I ask,' what is this 'I'? Is it the body? The body cannot ask—it is mere flesh and bone. Is it the mind? The mind is only thoughts arising and passing. Is it the intellect? The intellect is simply a subtler form of the same mind."

Nidagha grew thoughtful. "Then perhaps the 'I' is the witness of all these—the consciousness that observes body, mind, and intellect?"

"Now you approach the truth," said Ribhu. "But even this witness you speak of—is it separate from what it witnesses? Consider: Can you separate the ocean from its waves? Can you extract wetness from water?"

Nidagha's brow furrowed. "Master, if the witness is not separate from what it witnesses, then..."

"Then there is no one who asks and no one who answers," Ribhu completed. "There is only Brahman—infinite, undivided, ever-present. This conversation itself is Brahman speaking to Brahman about Brahman. The question arises in Brahman. The answer dissolves in Brahman. The seeker, the sought, and the seeking are one."

"But Master," Nidagha persisted, "if this is so, why do I feel separate? Why does ignorance persist?"

Ribhu laughed softly. "Who feels separate? Examine this one who claims ignorance! Ignorance cannot exist in Brahman, for Brahman is pure awareness itself. What you call ignorance is like a man who has forgotten he is dreaming—yet even in forgetting, he never actually leaves his bed. You have never been anything other than Brahman. The question 'How do I become Brahman?' is like the ocean asking 'How do I become wet?'"

Nidagha sat in stunned silence as these words penetrated his being.

Ribhu continued: "The very effort to attain Brahman creates the illusion of distance. The very concept of a path implies you are somewhere else. But you are always, already, only This. Not 'you' as a person attaining something, but THIS that you truly are—beginningless, endless, untouched by time or change."

"Then what should I do?" Nidagha whispered.

"Do? Who is there to do? What is there to be done? Simply recognize what has always been true. Not through effort, not through practice, not through accumulating merit or knowledge—but through the direct recognition that you are, and have always been, the infinite Brahman itself. This recognition is not something you achieve. It is the falling away of the false belief that you ever were anything else."

Nidagha remained at his master's feet, and in that moment, the question itself dissolved—for there was no longer anyone asking.