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Chapter
Twelve
ONE YEAR OF MY LIFE AS AN
ASHRAMITE
Durga
Puja in Calcutta (1948)
Sri Ma was invited to visit Bishtupur (district Birbhum)
in Bengal by a zamindar, Ram Bahu, before the Durga Puja, which would be performed in Calcutta. Sri Ma allowed me to
accompany her small party. I had not
previously seen the interior of Bengal.
The celebrated scenic beauty of Birbhum district was exactly as we had
read in books and heard in songs. The lyric “gram chhara oi ranga matir patha.”
(My heart remembers the red lane meandering away from the village etc) came
vividly to mind while we approached our destination. The red track led us along
wide stretches of water, which looked almost black, where they reflected the
surrounding dark blue hills rising on all sides. The immense lakes were profuse with white and pink lotuses. I
almost fell off my carriage when I saw the wealth of lotuses so near at
hand. The carriage driver was amused at
my excitement. He stopped and waded into the lake to pluck an armful of the
glorious flowers for me. Bunidi scolded
me for getting us all wet but we now had flowers worthy of being placed at Sri
Ma’s feet. Sri Ma also was a little amused to see my excitement with the
flowers and scenery. One other person
who was bewitched by the scenery was Maunima. The Zamindar took Sri Ma and all
of us to visit the ruins of ancient temples situated within the heart of the sal forest. The dark and sombre sal
trees rising to immense heights seemed to provide a fitting background to the
ruins. The temples must have been
beautiful and on a grand scale in their time.
Sri Ma took a keen interest in their architecture. We heard with interest Ram Babu’s
description of the bygone history of the place. Birbhum was Swami Paramanandaji’s district. He was pleased to
find us so fascinated by the beauty, hospitality and quality of food of this
district.
Maunima was so enamoured of these outskirts of the town
that she told Sri Ma that she would like to remain there for the rest of her
life. Sri Ma at once endorsed her
views, suggesting various practical ways and means whereby Maunima could be
made comfortable in one of the many guest houses surrounding a lake in the
village where we ourselves were putting up for the time being. I listened to
this conversation with some scepticism.
It was well known that Maunima could never stay anywhere for more than a
few days. She often travelled with Sri
Ma and soon selected her place of residence.
Sri Ma always made elaborate arrangements for her comfort and security
every time she showed a preference to stay behind in a garden room or safe place.
But lo and behold! Maunima was back in Sri Ma’s entourage within a few days,
having met with some insurmountable difficulty at her place of stay.
Listening to Sri Ma’s enthusiastic endorsement of
Maunima’s resolve, I felt a little uneasy at the exercise in unreality, as it
were. I approached Didi and said, “Does
Sri Ma deal with us also in this fashion?
How are we ever to know if she is not indulging our passing whims? How
are we to distinguish her own kheyala
from this acquiescence to our desires?”
Didi had no doubt, and replied in robust tones, “Ma never deals with us
like this. You will know what is her kheyala or what is not when the occasion
arises!”
Didi was very positive but my doubts remained undispelled
because I had never seen Sri Ma apply double standards at any time. If one could transform the mind into a
crystal wherein Sri Ma’s kheyala
would be reflected without being flawed, then perhaps one would know for sure,
but that in itself is an impossibility!
Incidentally, it may be recorded here that the very next
day after this conversation with Ma, Maunima said sadly, “Ma, everything is
very beautiful but the mosquitoes are intolerable!” And so once again she came
away with us.
Durga Puja this
year took place in Calcutta. This was
my first real encounter with crowds in Calcutta. The sheer overpowering press of people, their totally
unreasonable demands regarding free access to Sri Ma’s rooms at all hours was a
nerve-wracking experience. Sri Ma hardly
had time to take rest, spare a few minutes for light refreshments or even just
to drink a glass of water! It was
incredible. It was not that they were
impelled by devotion; the true devotees got shoved to the back and watched
helplessly as pandemonium swirled round Sri Ma. Incredibly, she always remained the same, serenely managing to
exchange a few words with those closest to her, smiling at those who stood at
the back of the crowd, and acknowledging the presence of those who were too
timid to push themselves forward.
Amidst the seething press of humanity she was as undisturbed as if alone
and in peaceful surroundings, as in Nainital or Solon. Bunidi made herculean efforts to guard her
door; as a result she came in for much abuse.
Some women even pulled her hair – amazing violence when one considered
the context in which this occurred. On
many such occasions Sri Ma would head straight into the melee and make her way
to the hall and sit there for a while, till everybody had quietened down and
were pleased to have had their way. I
tried a few times to help Bunidi and others, but I was no match for these
aggressive women who apparently believed it their right to approach Sri Ma come
what may whenever they came for darsana. We heard them mutter, “Sri Ma is all right
and kindness itself. It is these girls
who want to keep Ma away from ordinary folk like us!” Another allegation was that Sri Ma was for the rich and important
people only. Nothing could be further
from the truth. If they only knew the
kind of talk that went on in Sri Ma’s room and the problems she dealt with, they
would know that richness and worldly importance played no part in Sri Ma’s
granting of her grace (kripa). But the rich were not excluded either. I have not known any rich or important
person to take Sri Ma for granted in any way whatsoever. They approached her with as much homage and
adoration as the humblest of her retinue.
I have not known anyone, not even Prime Ministers, or Ambassadors, or
business magnates to look upon her countenance with any degree of familiarity
or presumption of acceptance as a matter of course. It needed Sri Ma’s look of kindliness or a friendly smile to
dissipate the initial diffidence with which everyone approached her. It is true however, that there was a lack of
discipline and organisation near Sri Ma.
Sri Ma was never disturbed by the chaos all around her. Much later, I heard from Didi that they had
met with ideal disciplined crowds in South India. Sri Ma went on a tour of the South in 1952. Didi said she wished the people of Calcutta
could come and see a crowd of 10,000 sitting quietly waiting for Sri Ma. Moreover, they did not break ranks to rush
her as soon as she appeared. It was not
that they were less devoted. In Madurai
she was looked upon as Meenakshi Devi, the presiding Deity of the town and so
it was to be all along the route. But
in Calcutta and Dhaka they behaved like “brats” with their indulgent
mother. Perhaps, they thought it was
their privilege! Having known her when
she was unknown, they wanted to demonstrate their superiority over crowds in other
towns.
During the three days of the Durga-puja, I was away from
the ashram and its unmanageable crowds.
I was busy in the Puja-pandala working with the ashram people,
where Kusumda (Nirvananandaji) and I were in charge of the naivedya room. My sister was in the shed where the cooking for the puja was being done. Sri Ma used to come
and give suggestions and guidance wherever needed. The park where the puja
pandal had been put up was soaking
wet and muddy under foot. Sri Ma asked
us to carpet the whole floor with banana leaves to lessen the discomfort of
working under such conditions.
Cooking on such occasions
was done on a large scale, so that hundreds of devotees could have prasad after puja. The cooking pot or kadhai was of an immense size and there
were about 100 kgs. of vegetables in it.
When it was bubbling and ready my sister did not know how to take it off
the fire, which was a veritable gigantic grate. She came to ask Sri Ma, who accompanied her back to the
kitchen. Sri Ma stood with her right
hand touching my sister’s shoulder, teaching her how to empty the big cauldron
little by little into smaller vessels, how to pull away the logs so that the
fire would simmer down gradually and many other manoeuvres which were
commensurate with such large scale cooking operations. In time, my sister became an adept.
I am sure it was a grand function and a rewarding
experience for many but I had a feeling of tiredness and exhaustion all the
time. On the last evening, returning to
the ashram, I tried to find a quiet corner for myself. I ended up in Sri Ma’s kitchen and lay down
in one corner and fell asleep. After a
while, I heard Bunidi’s voice whispering, “ Get up, Ma is here!” I opened my
eyes to see Sri Ma’s feet and also Bunidi’s.
Bunidi had evidently persuaded Sri Ma to come in for a minute so that
she could be served with a glass of lemon-water, before she went back to the
crowds for unpredictable lengths of time.
Bunidi always took care of Sri Ma in these little ways. I was too spent to muster up energy to rise
to my feet and was glad to hear Sri Ma whisper back, “Let her be, let her be!”
It was during this puja
festival that we met Sri Ma’s elder sister-in-law Pramoda Devi. We knew that she was a V.I.P guest who had
been billeted in the hall with us but discovered her identity only when Sri Ma
came to her bedside one late night and began a conversion with her in a village
dialect not understood by us. Those of
us who had not gone to bed gathered round them. The hall was now empty of local people. I could imagine that Pramoda Devi must have been feeling a little
lost in the mammoth crowd of devotees.
She had only caught glimpses of Sri Ma as she had passed though the hall
on a few occasions. Sri Ma now sat on
her bed. She held her (Pramoda’s) hands
with both of hers. She reminded her of
many incidents and many experiences of Narundi, Sripur, Atpara etc. Pramoda Devi, taken aback a little at first,
soon regained her poise. She seemed to
recognise in the august personality of these days, the young Nirmala who had
served her so well. Sri Ma translated
the dialect for us. Her narration of
many incidents was funny in the extreme and evoked hilarious laughter. This brought in other women who were
sleeping in other rooms. We became quite
a crowd. In answer to a question,
Pramoda Devi spoke words of loving praise for her young sister-in-law. She said very gravely, “Such sevabhava (spirit of service) is not
possible in any other person. In all
the years that she was with me I never had occasion to find any fault with
her.”
I do not know about other auditors to this testimony but
I was astonished by Sri Ma’s look of gratitude. She looked a little embarrassed but highly pleased that Pramoda
Devi spoke such words of praise for her services. She had not taken for granted that her behaviour would be
perfect, nor was there any pretence or make believe in her role of a young
bride in the house of her eldest brother-in-law. I was surprised by this look of gratitude on other occasions
also. Sometimes at the request of some
older devotees she sang songs which she had learnt in her childhood. If anybody spoke admiringly of her voice and
singing Sri Ma would be as gratified as a child who is trying to please its
elders. To me as to many others, Sri
Ma’s singing was an enthralling experience.
We would sit bemused but it did not occur to us to speak words of praise
to Sri Ma. However, I have heard Bunidi
and Chhabi Banerjee and one or two others speak admiringly and say how
beautiful the singing had been. Sri Ma
would say, “Yes, Yes, go on. You must
encourage this little child, what else!” or similar words. I used to be surprised at this lila.
Sri Ma’s deportment as a housewife had been perfection itself, so was
her singing, so was her behaviour with ordinary folk, old and young, scholars,
politicians, musicians in fact, anybody and everybody. To say as much to her seemed to border on
the inane. This phenomenon, however,
gave me an understanding of the religious hymns (stotras) which are spoken in praise of different deities. I always used to wonder, why does God need
all this flattery. The extolling of
His auspicious qualities, magnificence, His compassion, it all seemed like
stating the obvious. Does God need man
to say all this to Him? Apparently He does, because He takes nothing for
granted. He waits for man to turn to
him out of his own free will and so welcomes words of adoration. So spoken adoration, although sounding silly
at times did perhaps have an important place in sadhana!
During
this sojourn in Calcutta, one day Sri Ma found time to scold me for
non-observance of orthodoxy in matters of food habits. Actually what she said was, “Does it never
occur to you that you should follow the orthodox system?” Very reluctantly, I gave
up my freedom to sit with my friends and eat in public. This stage of my life did not last long
because the symptoms of the illness, which was soon to take me out of the
Ashram, were already imminent. I came
away from Calcutta with a bad cough, which resisted all known remedies of the
time.
We came back to Varanasi. I think Gopal Thakur came from Allahabad to celebrate the
function of Gita Jayanti. The new
ashram saw a synthesis of different forms of worship demonstrating Sri Ma’s vani, “All forms of worship are rendered
to the One only.” Gopal Thakur belonged to a school of thought which emphasised
full-hearted emotional commitment to the deity; the ritualistic undergirding of
this puja of adoration remained at a
minimal level. Gopal Thakur led the
prayers and songs; his disciples and mainly his daughters took up the refrains
and also sang beautiful hymns, creating an atmosphere suffused with
spirituality.
In the same ashram, a few yards away, the Savitri Yajna was being conducted in an atmosphere of scrupulous obedience
to injunctions laid down in scriptures regarding ritualistic performance. The rhythmic, sonorous sound of the Gayatri mantra pronounced in unison by
many voices to the accompaniment of the flickering light of the leaping flames
from the central yajna-kunda, created
another kind of atmosphere of no less religious significance than an emotional
outpouring of the heart. Sri Ma’s presence leant magnificence and splendour
equally to both groups; at the time it all seemed very natural and just as it
should be.
In the beginning of 1949, I was left in the Kanyapeeth,
when Sri Ma went away on her travels.
In February, my youngest brother Babu was to receive his
sacred thread in Allahabad. I came home
to attend this function. The ceremony
went off with its usual accompaniments of religious rites and feasts for
relatives and friends of the town. Babu
spent the scheduled three days in retreat.
On the fourth day all of us repaired to the River Ganga. This is the minimal ritual now obtaining for
the Upanishadic tradition of living as a brahmachari for 12 years in the ashram
of the guru. The new brahmachari,
however, must observe certain restrictions regarding his diet for one year at
least and he is supposed to adhere to the recitations of his Gayatri mantra all
his life.
Sri Ma arranged for groups of our party to go on
pilgrimages to Dwarka and Dakore. When
we showed reluctance to leave her even for a few days, she said, “One should
visit the residing deities of the places where you go as a mark of
respect”. We did enjoy these short
trips and had many agreeable experiences.
Nama yajna was performed by
the Delhi party at the invitation of the devotees of Ahmedabad. We were sitting in Sri Ma’s room awaiting
the arrival of the Delhi Party from the station. Sri Ma described their mode of sankirtana and their backgrounds to Kantibhai and to Mrs.
Talyarkhan and other dignitaries of the town.
She said, “The name is for them God Himself. They live with Him while they sing. I have been told that Haran Babu was so attuned to this music
that if he heard the strains of kirtan
coming from anywhere, he would just follow the sound and even enter a
stranger’s house and join in. You will
meet his sons, Lal and Nani , who are quite as dedicated as their father was.”
While Sri Ma was speaking about the group, they arrived from the station and
came in to do their pranams before
retiring to their allotted rooms. Sri
Ma said, “If you are not too tired will you sing a few lines of a kirtana now? I have been describing to these people a little of the ritual of
a namyajna.” Nanida unpacked his harmonium and in his deep melodious voice
began, “Radhe Govinda, Radhe Govinda, Radhe.”
I vividly remember the utter stillness which enveloped the entire congregation;
they sat in rapt attention listening to this sound of the music of just the
names. Whatever Sri Ma had just said
became a reality.
The Namayajna
exceeded all our expectations of an ennobling spiritual experience. In those days, the Delhi Party was at the
peak of their much-celebrated reputation.
Birenda was the guiding spirit.
His inimitable way of dancing around the altar of pictures and flowers
with a pair of cymbals in his hands captivated the hearts of the people of
Ahmedabad. Mrs. Taleyarkhan, a Parsi
lady, was especially enchanted by this music and became a great fan of the nama yajna. She was a disciple of Ramana Maharshi but became very close to
Sri Ma after her own Guru was no more.
We were told that it was the great Maharshi himself who had told some of
his disciples that they could go to Sri Ma if they felt the need of spiritual
guidance in his absence. During the
Fifties we saw many groups and individuals from South India visit Sri Ma in Varanasi,
no doubt in response to this behest of the Maharshi.
From Ahmedabad, we went on to Rajpipla, Bhimpura and
other places on the banks of the hallowed river Narmada. It was a truly joyous experience. The beautiful river, second only to Ganges,
has attracted great ascetics to her banks for centuries. We saw many sacred sites where yogis of high
reputation had practised sadhana. The Mahant of the prestigious local temple
welcomed Sri Ma with every sign of respect and devotion. As members of Sri Ma’s entourage we also
came in for our share of due recognition.
The story of my acquisition of an image of Siva at this
time is rather interesting. We had
heard the legend that in the Narmada “Jitne
kankar utne Samkara,” that is, all riverbed rock-pebbles are images of
Siva. We used to go to the river for
our daily bath. The first day, all of
us were fascinated by the sight of the sparkling waters rippling over a
variegated bed of coloured rocks of all shapes and sizes. The girls started picking up one or two
pretty ones; soon everybody had a collection of beautiful rocks big and
small. I was not interested and looked
with amusement at the growing heap of rocks in the arms of my friends. At the very last moment of leaving the river
bed I looked down and picked up a tiny white translucent rock, beautifully
shaped and a little smaller than my thumb.
Nobody saw me do this; I wanted to throw it back but somehow did not do
so. We arrived back at the ashram and
crowded into Sri Ma’s room to show her our finds. Sri Ma took each rock in her hands, admired its colour, at times
pointed out special markings and in general seemed very pleased. She put all of them in her lap. I, as usual was standing at the fringe of the
crowd and just as I was about to go forward with my little rock I heard her say,
“Yes, all these rocks are very beautiful; but as you know, it is believed that
they are not to be considered so but as the images of Siva himself. They are not playthings or items of
decoration. You must take them back
tomorrow and return them to the river-bed.”
A sigh of disappointment went up but the rocks were restored to the
river as directed by Sri Ma. Only mine
remained because on hearing her statement I stayed where I was and did not show
her my rock, telling myself that since Sri Ma had not seen it her words did not
apply to it. I just did not want to
part with it.
We returned from Gujarat and dispersed to different
towns. After some months Sri Ma went
back to Gujarat on her way to Bhimpura.
We went to the railway station to meet her train. Although I had brought away the little rock
from Narmada, I was not quite easy in my mind, thinking that I had disobeyed
Sri Ma’s spoken words. So, I took the
rock with me to the station to give it to her to be taken back to the
river. As chance would have it, there
was no crowd at the station. I stood at
the window of her compartment and confessed to my surreptitious acquisition of
a stone from the Narmada. Sri Ma said
quite calmly, as if she knew about it all along. “Since you have Narmadeshwara (Siva) himself you are required to
do puja everyday. The minimal form of worship is to offer 3 bilva-leaves in the morning,
daily.” I was relieved that she did
not ask me to give it back. Later, when
we had installed the Image properly in a silver peetha and got used to its
worship by offering bilva-leaves I
realised and appreciated Sri Ma’s great indulgence and graciousness because
Siva himself seemed to have come to stay, conferring ahetuka krpa on us. More
than twelve years later, Sri Ma happened to tell my brother Bindu’s wife
Shyamoli to worship Siva on some occasion or other. Shymali said that it would be difficult for her to go to a temple
because there were none in their vicinity.
Sri Ma said, “Why, there is Siva in your own family house.” Shyamoli could make nothing of this. When she told me about Sri Ma’s statement I
explained to her the history of the little image at home. I was amazed that Sri Ma had remembered. Perhaps she said it to strengthen our faith
in what we were doing. I am struck by
the similarity of Sri Narmadeshwara’s entering our home in this way and Sri
Ma’s statement that she had made to my father in Bareilly that she had come to
his house uninvited!
Chapter
Thirteen
THE BEST YEARS OF THE ASHRAM
IN VARANASI
For nearly thirty years Sri Ma continued to pay frequent
visits to Varanasi. In the beginning many functions were celebrated, on a
simple scale; they grew in scope and magnificence as the years went by. The completion of Savitri-yajna January 14,
1950 was one of the best we witnessed.
It had begun on 14th January 1947. A small square shed-like building with sloping roofs had been
erected for this purpose in the middle of the courtyard. Sri Ma’s kheyala
about a mahayajna spoken in Dhaka
nearly twenty years earlier was fulfilled by a strange bunch of
coincidences. Didi, who was at the
forefront of all organisation at the time, never thought to take credit for its
accomplishment. She has written a book
about this mahayajna which explains
how a concatenation of events inspired her to proceed toward the undertaking of
a vedic yajna at a time when the
country seemed poised on the brink of a war-like situation of massacre. The samkalpa
(aim, intention) of the yajna was
written out very carefully by Didi. She
had repeatedly asked Sri Ma and understood her to say, “To please Him who is
the most adored one (Istadevata) of
all creation.”
For three years we had become used to the sound and smell
of the yajna. The oblations put in the fire gave out a
very agreeable aroma. As Didi had
hoped, the wherewithal for this gigantic undertaking poured into her coffers
from unlooked-for sources. Sri Ma’s kheyala brought about congenial
conditions; not only sufficient money, but also suitable men and women who
lightened Didi’s task. All the
ramifications of the yajna were of
profound significance; every detail was carried out with circumspection and
consummate artistry. The small
structure that contained the kunda had corrugated sheets of galvanised iron as
a four-sided sloping roof. Ten pairs of
banners and flags decorated the edges representing the ten chiefs (dikpalas)
of ten directions. Each flag and
standard was marked by the special astra
(weapon) and vahana (the mount) of
the god. As for example, elephant and vajra for Indra, bull and trident for
Siva, buffalo and mace for Yama; swan and kamandala
for Brahma; Garuda and cakra for
Narayana etc. Like everyone else I had
noticed the flags fluttering in the air all these years. But this particular year I had a special role
to play in this matter. When I arrived
in Varanasi a little ahead of time for this festival, Sri Ma said, “So you have
come. Didi, bring out the satins which
have been purchased for the flags.”
Didi laughed and said, “I see that Ma was waiting for you. I said to her so many times that the flags
should be marked but every time Ma said, “Later! Now I know why!”
Sri Ma had commissioned Renu to make sketches of the
mounts and weapons. I was given the 20
sketches, a room to work in, and the bundle of satins of many colours, cut out
and stitched to specific lengths and shapes.
The flags were triangular and the banners rectangular. I and one or two girls from the Kanyapeeth settled
down to a lengthy sewing session. The
sketches we traced out on pieces of satin and then she appliqued them on to the
flags. Previously Kamlakanta had cut
out the shapes and had attached them to the flags with running stitches. We had not noticed that there were different
animals, they had all looked rather alike.
Now, Renu’s beautiful sketches embroidered on to shiny surfaces looked
quite attractive. This set was made for
the function of purnahuti, that is,
the completion of the yajna.
Sri Ma looked prasanna
when we brought our handiwork for her inspection. I do not know how to translate the word prasanna. The words,
‘pleased, ‘satisfied’ etc. do not apply
to Sri Ma but sometimes, she definitely allowed her approbation to delight the
heart of the recipient.
Guests started arriving for the function. The VVIP guests, of course, were the
mahatmas who were quartered with their groups of disciples. The royal families who were devoted to Sri
Ma, I think, made their own arrangements.
Yogibhai and his people came to the ashram as usual. Then there were business magnates from
Bombay, Ahmedabad, Calcutta and other parts of India. Above all, were the scholars who would give learned discourses
and the singers of devotional music, especially the Ramayana. Haribabaji came with his troupe of Raslila
performers. The gaps in this great
mosaic of the populace were filled by the common people belonging to various
provinces, professions or walks of life.
Sri Ma’s asta sakhis (eight friends), the eight village women from
Almora mingled with the highly sophisticated and stylish ladies from
metropolitan cities. A miniature India
was created in and around the ashram.
The ashram at this time was at its most spacious. The whole building constructed over the
pillars rising out of the Ganges was in full use. The great hall projecting onto the river was the venue of daily
satsangs. The middle of the hall was
circular which was just below the circular terrace adjoining the courtyard of
the ashram. The hall was flanked by
sets of rooms. There was a complete
story below this level duplicating the upper structure. The kitchens for the entire gathering of
guests were located here. The middle
space could accommodate more than two hundred people at a time. From morning till night, it was the venue
for the gathering of stores, preparation of vegetables and a hundred and one
details for providing food for the concourse of people gathered in and around
the ashram. A young teacher of the
Vidyapeeth, Mrnmayda (who later became Swami Chinmayananda) was in charge. I do not remember having seen him come up
out of these premises to the level of the courtyard during the entire duration
of the festival. Another person who
stood like the rock of Gibraltar at the main gates of the ashram was Panuda, a colleague of Mrnmayda. Panuda was in charge of reception. He allocated rooms and hotels and rented
houses to people pouring in at all hours of the day and sometimes night. We do not know when he left his post to eat
or sleep. My father was so struck by
his seemingly immovable stance at the gates that he used to describe him as
“Kumara Angada” (Angada, it is said, so positioned himself in the court of
Ravana that nobody could dislodge him; subsequently this posture came to be
known as the “Angada stance.”) Even as
early as this in his life Panuda had impressed people by his organisational
capabilities; he acquired great expertise in the matter of receiving the
mahatmas, arranging for their accommodation and in preparing the hall for the
daily satsangs. The days of Gini’s and
my amateur efforts were over. With the
help of servants Panuda did an impressive job of placing carpets, asanas,
bolsters, microphone etc., on the dais for formal occasions, and also for the
more homely meeting in the hall of the ashram every day.
In every corner of the sprawling ashram people were busy
with some aspect of the coming solemnities.
Many celebrations were happening at the same time. Sri Ma would find
time to attend each one of them and so add to the enthusiasm of the
convenor. I remember Didi and I
happened to be in one of the upstairs rooms doing something when a girl came
running with a message from Sri Ma, “Didi, Ma wants a presentation tray
prepared for a bride with all suitable items; bring it to the hall.” Saying
this she ran back from where she had come.
Didi looked quite bewildered, “Who is getting married? I cannot recall that we have been told of
any marriages!” However, she assembled
a sari, a pair of white conch shell bangles and sundry other items of a bride’s
decorative getup and we hurried to the hall carrying these things on
trays. What a surprise it was when we
realised that these offerings were to be dedicated to Rukmini, the bride of
Krishna! The narrator of the Bhagavat
Purana had come to the incident of Krishna’s marriage that day and he had asked
for a bridal gift for the occasion.
There was much blowing of conch shells; the audience reacted suitably
with jayadhvanis and a general air of
rejoicing prevailed. The remarkable
fact was that Didi would not have been surprised at anything that may have been
happening near Sri Ma. The ashram was
ever a bubbling fountain of mirth and joy, each person had his share not quite
knowing what the others were busy with!
It was a fairground where one could discover the multiple nature of
religious enterprise.
The day of purnahuti
dawned crisp and clear. Amidst joyous
scenes the solemn ritual of offering the final oblation to the fire was
accomplished. Sri Ma herself directed
all arrangements. She had very
thoughtfully provided for pails of milk and water and a hand spray
beforehand. As in Delhi earlier, Bindu
and I brought her this hand-spray not knowing what she wanted it for. When the flames leapt up, the wooden rafters
caught fire and started smouldering Sri Ma indicated the presence of the pail of
milk and water and the sprayer. Batuda,
the Panditji in charge of the yajna,
most thankfully utilised it to put out the fire in the beams.
The sound of the solemn Gayatri Mantra recited every morning for the last three years
ceased. We almost felt bereaved as if
somebody dear to the heart had departed forever. Since Sri Ma was there, the mood of nostalgia was
short-lived. We became busy with the
other events as they occurred in the ashram.
The
first Samyam Saptah
Yogibhai, after becoming the President of the Sangha,
mooted the idea of a celebration which would be based on Sri Ma’s teachings and
which would be special and peculiar to our own ashram. Many discussions were held about the manner
and duration of this observance. It was
Yogibhai’s suggestion that since Sri Ma always spoke of restraint and
discipline in daily life and a one-pointed dedication toward
self-enlightenment, how would it be if we chalked out the ideal manner of daily
routines for maybe a week or a fortnight?
This disciplined regime would be practised in Sri Ma’s vicinity, so that
she would guide and help our efforts.
The idea met with great enthusiasm.
Plans were drawn up, invitations sent out to devotees in other
towns. The ideal duration was accepted
as that of one week.
Sri Ma had come to Varanasi for the festival of Jhoolan
(end of July 1952) and Janmastami. Varanasi ashram was selected as the venue of
the first venture and the week between Jhoolan
(full moon night) and Janmastami (the
eighth day) the right time for it. A
rather strict schedule of daily routine was drawn up. Time was allowed for personal sadhana,
meals, a little rest, otherwise the whole day was divided up into durations of japa, dhyana (meditation) kirtan,
listening to readings from scriptures and talks by eminent speakers in the
evening satsanga. The best part of the day came at 9.30 in the
evening when Sri Ma would answer questions from the audience.
The vratis (those
who enrolled themselves for the week of regimen) were divided into three groups
as far as meals were concerned. The A
class would keep fast on the 1st and 7th days. On the other five days, they would have a
light lunch at midday and milk at night.
For their lunches, Sri Ma devised very interesting meals. She herself came to the kitchens, supervised
the preparation of the dish of milk and fruit which she named payphal. She put in it many exotic ingredients like various kinds of dried
fruit and aromatic herbs like rose leaves etc.
In the opinion of the devotees, the previous day’s fast was made
worthwhile by this extra-ordinarily satisfying lunch. For the other four days, they had similarly tasty but light
cereal meals, also supervised by Sri Ma.
The Group-B could have light cereal meals on all the days, but once a
day only. Group-C was allowed two meals
a day. Strange as it may seem the
largest number opted for Group-A.
Sri Ma attended all the sessions. Nobody complained of tiredness, boredom or
hunger. People seemed to be enjoying
themselves; they were so alert and keen that many wanted to keep it up for a
fortnight. I was one of the volunteers
who had charge of guarding doors during the hour of meditation. No one was to enter or leave during this
time. The ashram itself needed to be
made silent so that random noise would not penetrate to the satsang hall. At this time, Varanasi ashram was at its
magnificent best. The venue of the samyam saptah sessions was the spacious
hall under the terrace adjoining the main courtyard. The circular pillared hall projected right on to the river. Sometimes one could even hear the lapping of
the waves below the windows.
Sri Ma asked Renu to make four sketches of the stages of sadhana. She herself adopted the poses, which Renu tried her best to
portray on paper. The first was that of
a man sitting up straight and doing japa. The second of a man sitting in meditation,
the third of a man in a state of renunciation or sanyasa; the fourth was the most difficult and which Sri Ma named sahaja, that is to say ‘natural’, a
sadhu who looked at ease and blissful.
She herself posed for all the portraits and Renu did her best. Her drawings were always clear and
expressive. Sri Ma had these portraits
framed and hung on the wall of the satsang hall. This set of pictures travelled to Vindhyachala, Calcutta and then
Bombay on the occasion of subsequent samayam
saptahs.
Saporybhai, a Bombay devotee, acquired them, saying he
wanted to keep them as mementos. Sri Ma
asked Renu to make another set of the same portraits. The second set remained at Pilani with the family of the
Birlas. The set which is in use at
present was created by Sushilbhai, now known as Sri Satyananda (who lives in
Assisi, Italy)
The first samyam
saptah was an unqualified success.
It began with the celebrations on the occasion of Jhoolan Purnima and
ended with the equally festive rites of Sri Krishna Janmastami. So the period of rigorous discipline was
crowned by joyous activities. By
tradition the next day to Janmastami is observed as the day of Nandotsava, that
is, villagers come to Nanda’s house to congratulate him on the birth of a
son. Sri Ma’s long-term devotees,
Kamalaji, Ramaji and other matrons dressed up as village women, the dairy-maids
of Vrindaban, and with pots of curds balanced on their heads danced in a group
around Sri Ma. Sri Ma joined in,
putting her left arm around one woman after another. She moved gracefully from
one to the other; eventually the pots were dropped to break and scatter the
contents. Sri Ma picked out lumps of
curds which were held up to her in the shards of the pots and fed them to the
people surrounding her. She also
smeared the faces of all her companions.
The men who were keeping their distance from the dancing group suddenly
found Sri Ma in their midst and could not escape being smeared with curds. But even during this general scene of chaos
and confusion Sri Ma was just what she was.
I remember clearly how I hid at the
back of the crowd because I somehow did not particularly relish being caught up
in this messy affair spreading by leaps and bounds. Sri Ma, however, found her way to the back row. I prepared myself for a drenching but no,
she held her hand poised in front of me.
I opened my mouth and was given an infinitesimal speck of curd so neatly
that there was absolutely no mess!
Later samyam vratas were held
in November, so the Nandotsava never became a feature of it. So ended a function, which in time assumed
mammoth proportions. Over the years samyam saptah took on a very special
character of its own. Sri Ma’s Vani, “To talk of God alone is
worthwhile, all else is in vain and pain” was brought to fruition for a short
while in the lives of a cross-section of people who could never have dreamed of
accomplishing it except in her presence.
The mahatmas, who were invited to give orations on the
occasion, were delighted with this function.
They were used to the noise and hectic activities of the various
festivals and celebrations they attended in different Ashrams but the samyam saptah
proved to be an event after their own hearts.
In an atmosphere of quietude, a large number of people practised
rigorous sadhana and seemed to be
enjoying themselves. The main reason
for this was that they were almost constantly in Sri Ma’s presence. She attended almost all the programmes from
early morning till late at night.
During the hour of maunam
(silence) she sat straight and still with eyes sometimes closed and sometimes
open with a steady gaze, a perfect figure of meditation. I always took the job of a volunteer because
I could not sincerely obey all the austerities expected of a participant. I sometimes observed Sri Ma carefully during
the hour of maunam. It was a very interesting phenomenon. Without moving at all, she somehow watched
each and every one sitting in the hall.
Her eyes seemed to encompass all directions. It was not that she moved her head or eyes but from any corner of
the hall someone would open his eyes and meet her bright gaze.
Chapter
Fifteen
THE
MESSAGE OF SRI MA ANANDAMAYI
It is as true to say that
Sri Ma had no message to give to the world, as that she spoke on every topic
which is of interest to human beings. She spoke tirelessly, for countless hours, discussing, answering questions discoursing upon
themes raised by scholars or simple people; the refrain of her talks, however,
became clear as years went by. She repeated a pithy statement again and again,
anywhere and everywhere;
To talk of God alone is
worthwhile,
All else is, verily, in vain and
pain!
Once, a successful man of the
world posed the question;
" What harm is there if we
are happy in our way of life? If we are satisfied as we are?"
Sri Ma: "I am not saying there is any harm,
if you can remain happy in the world. If one can remain immersed in it then it
is all to the good. But actually, no one can do that. If anyone tries to
immerse himself in worldly pleasures, they begin to choke him. As for example,
you put on nice clothes and go out on a pleasure trip; as soon as you return
home, you want to take off all the restrictive items of dress and wish to relax
in your everyday simple garments. It is man's nature to seek freedom. This is
why even if a man busies himself in the world he seeks relief from it after a
while. The coercion chafes him. Everyone seeks peace and happiness because man
is of the nature of bliss. There is the possibility of eternal bliss in him,
that is why he becomes impatient with worldly ties. Creaturehood means
limitations; when he gains freedom from all limitations, he becomes established
in supreme bliss.
“Pitaji, how much pleasure can this world contain? If you get
even a taste of the happiness in that dimension then you will not care for any
pleasures of this world. This is the absolute truth. Keeping company with
sadhus, attending satsangs, reading of elevating books etc., brings about an
interest in that other world. It is not necessary to eschew anything (any
pleasures of this world). Only try to establish contact and hold on to the
other dimension. Whatever is redundant will fall off of its own accord.”
Once a modern young man very
boldly told Sri Ma that bliss could be experienced easily by taking appropriate
drugs, so why should one go in for a lot of tapasya?
Sri Ma answered. “Yes, but such
experiences are temporary and not unalloyed - there are unpleasant repercussions.
The bliss (ananda) the scriptures are
talking about cannot be induced artificially because it is not related to the
physical or the mental or even the intellectual plane. In fact one cannot do
anything to bring it about. One just prepares oneself and awaits its happening
as a realization. It is not a state but one becomes of the nature of bliss.”
Sri Ma was heard to steer clear of modern terminology regarding higher
consciousness. I heard her once say emphatically, "To talk of expansions
of consciousness without reference to faith and devotion is mere euphoric
indulgence (vilesa). If you leave God
out of your concerns in life then you opt out of the way to the ultimate gain
of peace."
Just as Sri Ma did not brook any
trivialisation of the life of devotion, she bracketed all emotional outpourings
and overtly physical displays of religious sentiments. I have heard her say to
contemporaries who were prone to such displays, “One should always keep control
over one’s behaviour and emotions. If you lose yourself in these waves of
feelings the result may not be
auspicious - why? Because some onlookers may pass adverse remarks which you do
not need. Others may become genuinely impressed and begin to admire you. This
also is not conducive to a life of sadhana.
One must proceed on one’s way, without being distracted by extraneous matters.
Sri Ma always stressed the need
for privacy and inner strength. Sadhana should
be practiced away from public gaze, she would say, and it should not cause
inconvenience to others either. A woman
said to her, “Ma, I get no time to sit quietly even for 10 minutes. Something
or other, someone or other will make demands whenever I am hoping that at last
I am on my own;" Sri Ma smiled and said, “Such is the nature of households
- but let things and family keep you busy during the days; the nights are your
own.”
To another person who posed a
similar problem she said, “Can a man stand at the sea-shore thinking he will go
in for a bathe when the waves have subsided? He has to plunge in facing the
oncoming breakers.”
Another point which Sri Ma
stressed was relentless constancy. She would say, “Do not give up your effort.
If you feel overcome by sleep, take a nap; if you feel a great thirst, get up
and take a drink; but come back again and again to your nama japa. Tell yourself that I must, I must finish my nama japa no matter how many times, I am
disturbed.”
A young man asked her, “Ma if
somebody feels like wandering around all the time,
what should he do?" Sri Ma asked "Why
does he feel like wandering around?”
Questioner
: "No special reason just a random
wish for roaming around."
Sri Ma
: "That is not possible. There must
be a reason, although it may not be clear to him. This thought that there is no
aim beyond the fact of wandering around, itself is a reason. Well,
if you do feel such a desire, go ahead and fulfill it; perhaps, after wandering
round aimlessly, you may feel like settling down at a particular place.
Constant movement is not conducive to sadhana. If you keep shaking an ewer of
water, it cannot become still. So the mind." (Sri Ma seemed to know that
it was his own question and not asked on behalf of someone else).
Sri Ma always focussed on
God-remembrance. “In very truth, the offspring of immortality (human beings)
must focus their thoughts on God. Divorced from God there cannot be even a
chance of peace, Never - never - never ! By abiding in God - remembrance alone,
man will find peace! The veil will be rent and the remover of sorrow will stand
revealed. He alone is the conqueror of evil; he is the innermost being, the
sole treasure of the human heart.
“Everyone without exception will
have to put in immense effort. Men and
women are equally endowed with the capacity for realizing God. It is the
supreme duty of each human being to impart full worth to this birth which is
such a rare boon (by engaging in God-remembrance) otherwise they will continue
uselessly in the round of births and deaths.”
During one of the very popular
satsangs in Varanasi, a question was raised regarding rebirths. Pandit
Vaidyanath said, “Ma, we believe in rebirths according to karmic laws.” Sri Ma,
“Yes, that is so.”
Question
"But Christians believe in one birth only. After
death they are to wait for the Day of Judgment when God will decide their
destinies.”
Sri Ma
: “Yes that is the truth.”
Everyone laughed to hear Sri Ma
endorse two seemingly opposite points of view. Sri Ma also joined in saying,
“Bholanath used to call me queen of the Appellate Court (Appealeshwari) because I seem to agree with everyone. The fact is
that I truly see the interconnections between statements; the singulars one by
one lead to the totality or infinity. What is there to reject and what is there
to accept? Beliefs belong to the plane of the mind; the mind is shaped and determined
by untold predilections. The proneness toward a set of beliefs rises from
predilections which are not known to you. I see that whoever is expressing a
belief is convinced that it is so and from his point of view that is so
indeed’!”
Sri Ma had a way of diffusing
doctrinal disputations. She laid stress on the quest for knowledge which alone
could resolve all doubts. A God-oriented attitude of mind was needed. Unless
and until man takes the path toward the supreme, he cannot find peace,
therefore, the remembrance of God must be sustained under all conditions and
circumstances.
She would say, “You ask, how to
achieve peace? I say to you, if you constantly live with things which are
unquiet and disturbing, how can you hope for tranquility. Sitting
near a fire, you cannot feel cool. To attain God
is to attain peace. All that is helpful toward
this end is of the nature of serenity. There is no
other way to peace.”
When I contemplate the
overwhelming variety depth and flow of Sri Ma’s vani (words) I feel like
comparing it with the advent of the holy Ganga in our country. No set of simple
words could do justice to the mystery of the mighty river’s first majestic
appearance, the beauty of the deep blue waters cascading down reverberating
gorges; the playful dancing progress through mountain ravines to the plains at
the foothills of the Himalayas. Here she takes on a new role. The scintillating
shining waters become serene; the river flows deep and wide and gracious so
that her people may derive as much benefit as they can from her bounteous
presence. She allows them to take advantage of her generosity, even to exploit
and to impose. She then silently withdraws into the ocean. Even in the act of withdrawal she divides
herself in immeasurable ways for the benefit of her ever-demanding children.
She comes in majesty and grace flows in abounding plenitude mile upon mile till
she reaches the ocean for a mingling of the manifest into the anonymity of
vastness. Through all the changes of her journey she uniformly maintains her
purity. From Gomukh to Gangasagar the waters are holy and confer peace on all
those who come to her. To the Hindu, she is the mother Ganga but she denies
herself to no one; all are equally welcome to come to her shores to find
holiness, peace and tranquility.
I remember a conversation
between a sadhu from the Sri Ramakrishna Mission and Sri Ma regarding the
future of India. The Swamiji tried for a long time to elicit some pronouncement
regarding the future but Sri Ma parried his questions. To his question “Shall
we ever achieve the glories of the past and again rise to new heights in the
future?" Sri Ma said,
“If so many of you feel that such should be the case, then perhaps such an
atmosphere will prevail and your dreams will come true.” The Swamiji was
pessimistic. He said, “People are heedless. They are busy copying the West. And
they (the Westerners) are coming to learn our ways and taking away the best of
the East with them.” Sri Ma said, “Why do you say “they?” They are also you,
isn't it? This answer gave the Swamiji
pause and food for thought.
Sri Ma’s dialogues were full of puns alliterations and anagrams.
All topics were dealt with lightly but profoundly. To a gentleman who asked her
“How can union (yoga) be achieved?” She replied, “Are you experiencing
disunion? (viyoga). The very thought, however, that I must be united with God
or how may I be united with Him, will open up ways; yearning itself is the means to union.”
Listening to her talks,
discourses, casual conversations over the years, I realized that she was
recalling to our attention the ancient Upanishadic thought of discrimination
between that which is pleasant (preyas)
and that which is good-in-itself (sreyas).
All aims in life, all values guiding conduct, she would subsume under the one
rubric of quest for ultimate truth. The donation of 10 minutes, each day, or
the one day in a one week program of samyam
(restraint, abstention) formed parts of the same overall pattern of a life
devoted to God-remembrance.
She seemed to gauge to a nicety
the aura of anyone who approached her for guidance; she would start them off
from wherever they were; she could fill with hope even the most pessimistic of
interlocutors. Sometimes she met with indifference - this was also acceptable to her. Once she said, “If you have no
interest and do not need to ask anything, then I have nothing to say but if you
ask, and, if it is my kheyala, then
certainly I shall tell you the sreyas, the
ultimate worthwhile aim of life for every human being.”
The ideal of renunciation
permeated her discourses like the thread stringing many flowers together. Not
that she asked anyone to renounce anything, not the world, society, a career,
family, a home or friends. She would say that if one could abandon the mind at
the feet of the Lord, then nothing more needs to be done. All will happen in
its own time. She did, however, give the highest respect to anyone who looked
to be a renunciate, a man in saffron clothes. Gradually, people of our
generation came round to this new way of looking at our sadhu-samaj. It must be
acknowledged that previously we had rather looked askance at ochre-robed
people. It must also be said that Sri Ma herself was deceived by many of these
people innumerable times over the years, but she never lessened even an iota of
her reverential attitude in the
presence of a sanyasi (renunciate).
These men and women were committed to the highest calling and thus deserving of
respect.
An off-repeated question in Sri
Ma’s vicinity was, “Can a man see God?”
Sri
Ma: "Certainly, one can; He appears
before the human eyes. Just as you see me .
Before
you and talking to you, so can one see God and hold conversations with
him."
Sri Ma said many times
that she was an onlooker only; she was not here to do
anything
or to teach anyone. In fact where was the "other"? She herself was all that there is,
in
fact there was no space even for her to turn over, so what was there for her
to do or say?
But if
asked to give advice she would repeat her vani
- "To talk of God alone is
worthwhile.
All else is in vain and pain."