By
SRI SWAMI CHIDANANDA
A DIVINE LIFE SOCIETY PUBLICATION
Fifth Edition: 1991
(3,000 copies)
World Wide Web (WWW) Edition : 1999
Website: http://www.divinelifesociety.org/
This WWW reprint is for free distribution
© The Divine Life Trust Society
ISBN 81-7052-080-0
Published By
THE DIVINE LIFE SOCIETY
P.O. Shivanandanagar—249 192
Distt. Tehri-Garhwal, Uttaranchal,
Himalayas, India.
CONTENTS
In this little volume an attempt has been made to present to the public
an impartial study of Swamiji's personality from a consideration of
some of the salient incidents of his interesting life-past and present
as well. Unlike the two or three books of a biographical nature issued
on earlier occasions, the present work mainly aims at bringing out the
philosophy underlying and the practical lessons embodied in many of
his ordinary activities. Therefore it is in the nature of a development
of and a finishing touch to the previous works, rather than a mere narration
of his career. Written somewhat in an analytical vein, very many helpful
and guiding hints have been brought out: they are certain to be of immense
practical value to every class of reader. Herein lies its distinctive
worth. It also brings to light some beautiful traits of Sri Swamiji,
known little hitherto, as a many-sided model of the Ideal Man.
-THE DIVINE LIFE SOCIETY.
Blessings come slowly but when do they come they shower upon you in
plenty. They have done so in my case. On top of all, I have had the
crowning good fortune of being chosen by Him to engage in a work that
is certain to prove of service to not a few. Considering it a rare privilege
to write about one who is a leading light both to India and to the world
of today, I am launching forth this work with pleasure. The purpose
of the book, the introduction makes amply clear. Even if a fraction
of it is fulfilled, I shall be thrice blessed indeed.
SWAMI CHIDANANDA.
Sridhar Rao, as Swami Chidananda was known before taking Sannyasa,
was born to Srinivasa Rao and Sarojini on 24th September, 1916, the
second of five children and the eldest son. Srinivasa Rao was a prosperous
Zamindar owning several villages, extensive lands and palatial buildings
in South India. Sarojini was an ideal Indian mother, noted for her saintliness.
At the age of eight his life was influenced by one Anantayya, a friend
of his grandfather, who used to relate to him stories from the epics,
Ramayana and Mahabharata. Doing Tapas, becoming a Rishi, and having
a vision of the Lord became ideals which he cherished.
His uncle, Krishna Rao, shielded him against the evil influences of
the materialistic world around him and sowed in him the seeds of the
Nivritti life which he joyously nurtured until, as later events proved,
it blossomed into sainthood.
His elementary education began at Mangalore. In 1932 he joined the
Muthiah Chetty School in Madras where he distinguished himself as a
brilliant student. His cheerful personality, exemplary conduct and extraordinary
traits earned for him a distinct place in the hearts of all teachers
and students with whom he came into contact.
In 1936, he was admitted to Loyola College, whose portals admit only
the most brilliant among students. In 1938 he emerged with the degree
of Bachelor of Arts. This period of studentship at a predominantly Christian
College was significant. The glorious ideal of Lord Jesus, the Apostles
and the other Christian saints had found in his heart a synthesis with
all that is best and noble in the Hindu culture. To him study of the
Bible was no mere routine; it was the living of God; just as living
and real as the words of the Vedas, the Upanishads, and the Bhagavad
Gita. His innate breadth of vision enabled him to see Jesus in Krishna,
not Jesus instead of Krishna. He was as much an adorer of Jesus Christ
as he was of Lord Vishnu.
The family was noted for its high code of conduct and this was infused
into his life. Charity and service were the glorious ingrained virtues
of the members of the family. These virtues found an embodiment in Sridhar
Rao. He discovered ways and means of manifesting them. None who sought
his help was sent away without it. He gave freely to the needy.
Service to the lepers became his ideal. He would build them huts on
the vast lawns of his home and look after them as though they were deities.
Later, after he joined the Ashram, this early trait found complete and
free expression where even the best among men would seldom venture into
this great realm of divine love, based upon the supreme wisdom that
All is one. Patients from the neighbourhood, suffering from the worst
kinds of diseases came to him. To Chidanandaji the patient was none
other than Lord Narayana Himself. He served Him with a tender love and
compassion. The very movement of his hand portrayed him as worshipping
the living Lord Narayana. Nothing would keep him from bringing comfort
to the suffering inmates of the Ashram, no matter the urgency of other
engagements at the time.
Service, especially of the sick, often brought out the fact that he
had no idea of his own separate existence as an individual. It seemed
as if his body clung loosely to a soul which he fully awakened to the
realisation that It dwelt in all.
Nor was all this service confined to human beings. Birds and animals
claimed his attention as much as, if not more than, human beings. He
understood their language of suffering. His service of a sick dog evoked
the admiration of Gurudev. He would raise his finger in grim admonition
when he saw anyone practising cruelty to dumb animals in his presence.
His deep and abiding interest in the welfare of lepers had earned for
him the confidence and admiration of the Government authorities when
he was elected to the Leper Welfare Association, constituted by the
State-at first Vice-Chairman and later Chairman of the Muni-ki-Reti
Notified Area Committee.
Quite early in life, he although born in a wealthy family, shunned
the pleasures of the world to devote himself to seclusion and contemplation.
In the matter of study it was the spiritual books which appealed to
him more than college books. Even while he was at the College, lesson-books
had to take second place to spiritual books. The works of Sri Ramakrishna,
Swami Vivekananda and Gurudev took precedence over all others. He shared
his knowledge with others so much so that he virtually became the Guru
of the household and the neighbourhood to whom he would talk of honesty,
love, purity, service and devotion to God. He would exhort them to perform
Japa of Sri Rama. While still in his twenties he began initiating youngsters
into this great Rama Taraka Mantra. He was an ardent admirer of Sri
Ramakrishna and Swami Vivekananda. He visited the 'Math' at Madras regularly
and participated in the service there. Swami Vivekananda's call for
renunciation resounded within his pure heart. He ever thirsted for the
Darshan of saints and Sadhus visiting the metropolis.
In June 1936, he disappeared from home and after a vigorous search
by his parents, he was found in the secluded Ashram of a holy sage some
miles from the sacred mountain shrine of Tirupati. He returned home
after some persuasion. This temporary separation was but a preparation
for the final parting from the world of attachments to family, friends
and possessions. While at home his heart dwelt in the silent forests
of spiritual thoughts, beating in tune with the eternal Pranava-Nada
of the Jnana Ganga within himself. The seven years at home following
his return from Tirupati were marked by seclusion, service, intense
study of spiritual literature, self-restraint, control of senses, simplicity
in food and dress, abandonment of all comforts and practice of austerities
which would augment his inner spiritual power.
The final decision came in 1943. He was already in correspondence with
Sri Swami Sivananda of Rishikesh. He obtained Swamiji's permission to
join the Ashram.
On arrival at the Ashram, he naturally took charge of the dispensary.
He became the man with the healing hand. The growing reputation of his
divine healing hand attracted a rush of patients to the Sivananda Charitable
Dispensary.
Very soon after joining the Ashram, he gave ample evidence of the brightness
of his intellect. He delivered lectures, wrote articles for the magazines
and gave spiritual instructions to the visitors. When the Yoga-Vedanta
Forest University (now known as the Yoga-Vedanta Forest Academy) was
established in 1948, Gurudev paid him a fitting tribute by appointing
him Vice-Chancellor and Professor of Raja Yoga. During the first year
he inspired the students with his brilliant exposition of Maharshi Patanjali's
Yoga Sutras.
It was also in the first year of his stay at the Ashram that he wrote
his magnum opus-"Light-Fountain", an immortal biography of Sivananda
of which Gurudev once remarked: "Sivananda will pass away, but 'Light-Fountain'
will live."
In spite of his multifarious activities and intense Sadhana, he founded
under the guidance of Gurudev, the Yoga Museum in 1947, in which the
entire philosophy of Vedanta and all the processes of Yoga Sadhana are
depicted in the form of pictures and illustrations.
Towards the end of 1948, Gurudev nominated him as General Secretary
of the Divine Life Society. The great responsibility of the organisation
of the Society then fell on his shoulders. From that moment he spiritualised
all its activities by his presence, counsel and wise leadership. He
exhorted all to raise their consciousness to the level of the Divine.
On Guru Purnima day, 10th July 1949, he was initiated into the holy
order of Sannyasa by His Holiness Swami Sivanandaji Maharaj, as Swami
Chidananda, a name which connotes, "One who is in the highest consciousness
and bliss."
Apart from his distinction as an able organiser of Divine Life Society
Branches in several parts of India, his contribution to the success
of the epochal All-India Tour of Gurudev in 1950 is memorable. Together
they attracted to the Divine Life movement great political and social
leaders in India, high-ranking Government officials and rulers of Indian
States.
In November 1959 Swami Chidananda embarked on an extensive tour of
America, being sent by Gurudev as his personal representative to radiate
the message of Divine Life in the New World. He was hailed by the Americans
as the Yogi of India very well fitted to interpret Indian Yoga to the
occidental mind. He also toured several countries in South America and
preached in Montevideo and Buenos Aires etc. From America he made a
quick tour of Europe, returning to the Ashram in March 1962.
In April 1962 he set out on a pilgrimage to South India where he visited
temples and other holy places and delivered soul-stirring lectures.
He returned from the South in early July 1963, about ten days before
the Mahasamadhi of Sri Gurudev, a fact which he described as nothing
short of a miracle.
In August 1963 he was elected as President of the Divine Life Society.
After the election, he strove hard to hold aloft the banner of Tyaga
(renunciation), Seva (dedicated service), Prem (love of humanity) and
Adhyatmikata (Spiritual idealism) not only within the set-up of the
widespread Organisation of the Society, but in the hearts of countless
seekers throughout the world, who were all too eager to seek his advice,
help and guidance. He has endeared himself to one and all by his exemplary
life of a towering Sannyasin, a spiritual magnet and working hard in
all directions, for a resuscitation of the glorious Ideals of Divine
Life in the world. His carefully guarded personality of an intrinsically
good and loving nature of spontaneous servicefulness had brought immense
solace in the lives of hundreds and thousands. In addition to his regular
tours in this country far and near, the Swamiji toured Malaysia and
Hong Kong and scattered broadcast the seeds of true culture, spirituality
and the spirit of self-effacement in all actions, thus planting the
art of divine living in the minds of thousands of people, which has
evoked a deep sense of gratefulness to him in all quarters.
I
"Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime."
-Longfellow.
The life and actions of a great man-an illumined soul-are ever a permanent
fount of inspiration and refreshment to the struggling wayfarer on the
hard and weary road of life. The day-to-day activities and talks of
such saints and seers form as it were so many instructive and eminently
helpful pages of a guide and ready-reference book to bewildered travellers.
When the frail raft of life, adrift on the dark ocean of earthly existence,
is heaved about on the surging swell of mighty Maya and is tossed
by the violent winds of passions and the pairs, the living records of
a great life, nobly and intensely lived, act as the benign beams from
a brilliant beacon-light brightening the benighted mariner's way and
bringing strength and solace to the solitary sailor on the stormy seas
of Samsar.....The conduct of an ideal life faithfully recorded
is therefore of the utmost importance to struggling humanity. It is
a valuable asset in its fight against the forces of darkness and evil,
and is of inestimable help in the perpetual endeavour to solve the numerous
painful problems that perplex it on the path of progress towards perfection.
In its power to awaken and inspire, in the practical example that it
puts before the aspiring one, in its ability to evoke that which is
noble, sublime and divine in man and influence him to emulate such an
ideal, in these lie the worth and value of such a narration. Such indeed
is the purpose of this chronicle, dear reader, and to that degree of
the eagerness and receptivity with which you approach it, will inspiration,
guidance and strength be thine.
But is there indeed such a pressing need and demand for light and guidance?
Comes the query. Ah! Reader, do but open thy eyes and cast a glance
on humanity around thee. Therein lies the answer to the query. Everywhere
you see mankind in a feverish quest after happiness, rushing after fleeting
phenomena and trying to grasp the transitory trifles that go to make
up this sense-world. The being does not know what constitutes real happiness
or wherein it lies. Neither is he certain how to set about to acquire
it. It is all a feverish groping in the darkness, a groping made even
more confusing by a hundred conflicting theories, cults, philosophies
and ideals that have obscured the mental horizon of the present-day
world. Each asserts its infallibility and warns the already-tormented
traveller to beware of the other paths. So everywhere there is the cry
for guidance, direction and light. Whither lies the way to joy and what
direction to follow is the question on every lip. At this juncture comes
to mind the sound counsel of the ancient sage Vyasa on Ekadasi Tattva:
Srutir-vibhinna smritayopi bhinnah
Tatha muneenam matayopi bhinnah
Dharmasya tattvam nihitam guhayam
Mahajano yena gatah sa panthah.
"The Srutis are conflicting, the Smritis too differ.
Even so, the opinions of sages too vary. The inner truth of what is
Dharma is concealed as it were in a cavern. The path to follow
is therefore that path which the saints have traversed, i.e., the way
to live is even as the great ones lived their life."
Sound counsel is this, for confused mankind to abide by. And here mark,
with these great ones, to whichever age, clime and clan they belong,
the basic qualities of head and heart, the sublime impulses that animated
their lives, you will find to be everywhere similar.
And to enable you, dear reader, to get to know how one such ideal life
has been and is being lived, how it reacted to certain circumstances,
what sublime considerations motivated many of its apparently insignificant
actions, what noble impulses lay hid behind certain acts that outwardly
seemed sometimes ungenteel, nay even crude, these enlightening fragments
are presented here as and when they became known to the humble narrator.
They reveal aspects of a life fully, nobly and energetically lived;
a life whose chief joy consists in giving itself away ceaselessly to
others, to the world at large, day and night, physically, mentally,
intellectually and spiritually in every conceivable form and way it
can think about. Not being satisfied with this perpetual self-sacrificing,
it ever tries to devise fresher and newer ways and means each day, by
which to be of some service to every creature on earth, to reach and
relieve even the least one on earth. For herein indeed is the secret
of all happiness, all joy, in wearing away oneself in selfless and loving
service. Life is for joyous sacrifice, not to rust in repose and lethargy.
And behind this reckless extravagance of life, there is withal a deep
and silent undercurrent of ever awake spiritual awareness that continuously
feels the presence of a universal power and love and knows that it is
that power, that love, which flows into and works through him. This
fills his life with a child-like artless humility that cannot be understood
easily by an onlooker. A unique spontaneity, a complete absence of all
artifice or guile, and a complete disinterestedness, freedom from attachment,
all have originated from this inner awareness. Such is the life, the
living light from which a humble attempt has been made to absorb a few
rays and refract them through the prism of the writer's plainly unworthy
and all too inadequate understanding, so that perchance some one may
find his path brightened, and his heart lightened and enabled to march
straight and vigorously on the highway of life. To chase out darkness
and dispel doubts everyone will find this of greatest positive help.
The personality I have had the great good fortune and privilege to
move with is, as it were the flower in full bloom, whose budding and
growth can be traced far back to his early years at a time when he toiled
as a doctor in a hospital in the F.M.S. Those were the days of silent
shaping and growth, when for nearly a decade, he strove intensely for
the alleviation of human suffering. The fiery and abundant energy of
the choicest years of his youth (a period when most of us would like
to enjoy for ourselves the best of life's gaieties) he ungrudgingly
and freely utilised in working for the welfare of his fellow-beings
around him. He has always been reluctant to make any mention of his
early activities and even now is apt to be reticent in divulging his
silent acts of everyday service and love. It was by tactful persuasion
and opportune enquiry that we could draw him out of his self-imposed
reticence and make him tell us something about his life now and then.
Finally it was by touching upon a soft spot in his nature that many
factors were brought to light. It happened this way. As seekers on the
spiritual path we were now and again faced with various problems that
agitated and troubled us greatly. Also a great many aspirants were constantly
writing numerous letters to Swamiji putting before him their difficulties
and desiring help and guidance. Emboldened by this state of affairs
we importuned him greatly to tell us how he dealt with similar conditions
when he was striving in his early days, what the secret of his success
was, wherein lay the source of that bubbling energy and joy, what now
animated him every moment of his life and were manifest in every act
of his life which would be of help to us and the world at large, by
their inspiring example. We pressed home the point that such information
would be of immense help and guidance to one and all by the ideal of
conduct thus represented by the principle that motivated them and the
moral they revealed. We would be the losers, we told him, if information
of such practical utility were withheld out of personal disinclination.
For the benefit of others he must speak. We urged. And thus we got him
to lift part of the veil that covered the intense activity of his life.
II
The holy sage and saint Sri Swami Sivanandaji of Rishikesh, Himalayas,
became widely well-known throughout the modern spiritual world. During
the past fifty years of this 20th century, he is regarded as one of
the world teachers of our times and a great spiritual Master who brought
about spiritual awakening into the hearts of millions of people in numerous
countries of the world. He became familiar to countless grateful seekers
all over the world as a benign Teacher, a great Sadguru and a gracious
and compassionate saint who brought spiritual light and guidance as
well as solace, comfort and peace into the hearts of innumerable people
in different walks of life. His gracious and radiant personality shining
with radiance of Goodness, Selflessness and Universal Love attracted
earnest aspirants and devotees from all parts of the modern world even
as the full-blown lotus flower attracts bees from all the ten directions
to his beautiful spiritual abode on the bank of the sacred river Ganga
near holy Rishikesh. His entire life was totally consecrated to a continuous
spiritual ministry that kept Him engaged day and night in teaching,
instructing, training, inspiring, guiding, encouraging, consoling, helping
and transforming seekers, spiritual aspirants, Sadhakas and people of
all sorts, men and women, young as well as old including students, teachers,
professional people and even politicians. Engaged in this ceaseless
spiritual work, Swami Sivanandaji shed His mortal coil on the 14th of
July, 1963 and merged in the Divine.
This holy saint of modern India was the Light of the East and a Light
for the whole world. His country recognises Him as one among the foremost
spiritual leaders born in this land of sages, saints, holy men and monks.
His life-long services for the revival of the Vedic Religion and the
effective propagation of the spiritual science of Yoga and Vedanta have
been unparalleled and outstanding in this present century. His name
is known in countless homes and has become a byword for spiritual world
and ideal conduct and selfless service. Swami Sivanandaji preached selfless
service to mankind, devotion to and worship of God, practice of meditation
and attainment of Divine wisdom and liberation through the Realisation
of Self. He enjoined upon all the principles of TRUTH, CHASTITY and
NON-INJURY. Such a life of Truth, Purity and Love and of Service, Devotion,
Meditation and Realisation, Swamiji termed as Divine Life. He broadcast
His message of Divine Life through His Institution, the Divine Life
Society, which he founded in I936. He came to be hailed as the prophet
of Divine Life.
In this little book, "LIGHT-FOUNTAIN", an attempt is made to take a
close look into the daily life of this great spiritual luminary as well
as to have a glimpse into the background of His early years in distant
Malaysia when as a doctor he strove tirelessly to serve, relieve and
treat the suffering and sick in the Far East. This book comprises a
study of His noble personality with a humble aim to learn about the
secrets of His self-development, inner unfoldment and spiritual perfection
through the pattern of Divine living, He adopted for Himself. Thus it
would become a source of light to us all who also wish to live an ideal
life and tread the path that leads to Divine Perfection. This book was
written in the year 1943-44 while the spiritual hero and worshipful
subject of this study was gloriously alive and full of vibrant and dynamic
spiritual service of one and all. Hence, the difference in the present
tense is found throughout the book.
May Gurudev's Grace be upon all seekers and spiritual aspirants who
study this book with faith, devotion and with receptivity and reverence.
May all aspirants reach the highest spiritual Realisation and attain
Supreme spiritual blessedness and Divine Bliss.
OM NAMO BHAGAVATE SIVANANDAYA.
Swami Chidananda
\
CHAPTER ONE
Far back, during those days of medical practice at Malaya, the young
Dr. Kuppuswamy was the biblical Samaritan carried to the degree of perfection.
He effaced himself. His energy, his talents and his body, he did not
consider as belonging to him. He belonged to any creature that was in
distress and in need of him. He would not spare himself. It happened
once that a humble woman of the low caste-a pariah (untouchable)-was
about to be of child. She had none to call her own and to be of help.
This young doctor, a Brahmin of a most celebrated family was at once
by her side, all tenderness and sympathy, more solicitous than if she
were his own sister. He looked to her comforts, eased her as best as
he could and, as the necessity arose, kept vigil that night, stretching
himself down on the earth and passing the night thus outside the door
of her lowly dwelling. Only when the task on hand was concluded did
he return home and think of himself. It is this inherent thirst to befriend
all, to relieve pain, to lessen sorrow, to console and comfort, that
animates his life. A genuine disinterestedness and depth of sympathy
form leading traits in this personality. It is this rare virtue that
constitutes the central secret of the happiness that fills his life.
Man forgets his 'self' in an all-absorbing love and sympathy for others!
Readers who are acquainted with the life of that saintly man, Dr. Rangachari
of Madras, will recall how this sympathy and love formed the key-note
of his beautiful life. More than as a famed surgeon of almost international
repute, he is enshrined in the grateful hearts of thousands as the man
of compassion, who was ever ready to lovingly minister even unto the
most lowly. Instances have been when, forgetting all engagements, he
had stopped on the wayside and alighted from his car; to be by the side
and attend to some destitute low-caste woman who was in labour. Not
infrequently, after treating and tending some penurious patients in
his nursing home for several days, he refused the small fee they hesitatingly
tried to offer him. Instead, he would force them to accept double the
amount from him for their diet, etc., and send them away silencing ail
their remonstrances.
Even so, Swamiji, while at Malaya, would keep poor patients in his
house, nurse them back to health and send them after giving them some
gift out of his own pocket. Without the least aversion he would tenderly
support untouchable patients on his lap, clean their beds and even dirt
cheerfully, in case they were too weak to move.
But one point we may note here with profit. Though having the softest
of hearts, brimming with an almost motherly tenderness, gentle to a
degree, yet these essentially feminine traits did not at all make him
effeminate and timid or weak-willed. On the other hand, with all the
woman's sympathy, concern, desire to comfort that had in it something
of the passionate and inspired urge of a Florence Nightingale, Swamiji
was a purposeful and enterprising man. He lived a manly life, very active
and vigorous. He was the soul and centre of all popular functions and
social gatherings which he animated with his cheerful and ready activity.
If there was any trouble at the hospital, any discontentment among the
employees-a threat of strike-it was the young doctor who had to be on
the spot to set it right at once. Even a perfect stranger to the town
happening to come to the young doctor's notice, immediately had all
his problems solved. Whatever he wanted, was arranged by the eager host
even before he expressed them, right up to the moment of his departure
when the doctor would personally give him a send-off.
He also took a keen interest in sports, followed important tournaments,
wrote articles to papers, like the 'Malay Times', etc. He was the author
of several instructive tracts on medicine, hygiene, etc. He was editing
a medical journal too.
If only the youth of today are fired with this genuine zeal to serve
and to relieve suffering, sorrow will vanish from their lives and the
earth will become a blessed place filled with joy.
Years later, when Swamiji, no longer a fashionable doctor but a monk
given to intense asceticism and Sadhana, was in seclusion at Rishikesh,
the self-same flame continued to burn steadily within him with the same
warmth of compassion and desire to serve, with which his heart was aglow
in the earlier days. To him, turning away from worldly pursuits on a
higher quest did not mean the suppression of the sublime sentiments
and the extinction of the elevating emotions that were his inherent
nature. Rather they became the more intensified and refined by the touch
of a higher unselfishness and wider consciousness.
We have here an incident that reveals some striking aspects of this
strange personality. Even after renunciation he made it a practice to
help the pilgrims to Badri with medicines. The road was very bad and
the journey difficult and attended with several risks. Therefore he
used to distribute packets containing seven or eight medicines to the
pilgrims he came into contact with.
It happened on an occasion that a Badri Yatri came to see him one evening.
After a short talk when he was taking his departure Swamiji gave him
the wonted packet with the directions for using the medicines. The Yatri
left for Lakshman Jhula, the next halt. Anyone would have retired and
slept restfully that night pleased with his work, for as the good old
saying goes, "Something attempted, something done has earned a night's
repose." Not so Swamiji. After the visitor has left, it occurred to
Swamiji that he should have given a certain special medicine that would
be particularly helpful to the pilgrim. The thought filled his mind
that he had not done the utmost, the best that he could have done. So,
very early the next morning, even before dawn, he took the medicine
and started at a steady uphill-run to catch up with the traveller. When
he reached the next halt, he found that the pilgrim was an even earlier
riser and had already proceeded on his way. Nothing daunted, Swamiji
at once commenced running higher up to Garud Chutty only to be informed
that his quarry had passed higher up. Undismayed, the pursuer pressed
on to Phul Chutty and not finding him even there ran further up, caught
up with, the pilgrim near the 5th mile and there gave him the precious
medicine. By this time it was past nine o'clock and the monk had to
race back to his Kutir to be in time for the daily alms at the Annakshetra.
Let us pause and reflect for a moment what this one incident reveals
to us. We see that it was all done silently and unostentatiously, none
else being the wiser for it save the two concerned. All for the sake
of a person whom Swamiji had never seen before nor perhaps afterwards.
He would not be satisfied by doing a little but must give his very best.
The urge in him has always been to do the maximum good. A task undertaken
must be pursued to its logical conclusion and done perfectly. Such was
the genuine aspiration in him to serve, that to the winds went all considerations
of personal comfort and even daily spiritual routine. Overcoming physical
laziness (the greatest bar and pitfall to the selfless worker) to have
run nearly 6 miles distance, gives an idea of the absolute, almost breath-taking
sincerity and wholeheartedness that burns throughout the whole act.
Ordinarily, a person after going up a little distance and failing to
catch up with the pilgrim would have returned succumbing to a sense
of moral satisfaction of having done his duty. The whole incident bespeaks
the high mettle that made up his personality.
At another time, an old lady rashly undertook the difficult ascent
to the shrine Nilakanth Mahadev, about 7 miles from Swargashram. The
strain proved too much for her and on her return both her legs got swollen.
Without hesitation Swamiji went to her aid and set about shampooing
her legs until relief was obtained.
On several occasions, he gave up even his Sadhana and Tapas to be by
the side of a sick man until the latter was nursed back to health. When
a junior monk, the Swami Atmananda, lay dangerously ill at Rishikesh,
Swamiji left Swargashram at once and came over to Rishikesh (where he
put up for nearly three weeks) and nursed him successfully through a
critical period.
The grateful monk recently wrote, "He whom I have the honour to call
Gurudev, stayed during my severe sickness, in some neighbouring Dharmashala
at Rishikesh for about twenty days to personally attend to me. He saved
me when my life was in danger during that illness." A European Sadhu,
a disciple of Shree Meher Baba, used to tell Swamiji that whenever the
latter approached his sick-bed he felt healing vibrations and obtained
relief at once. Indeed, genuine and disinterested love cannot but make
itself felt as a positive force emanating from the fortunate possessor.
A similar love it was that irresistibly drew the hearts of those that
approached the Lord Jesus Christ and the Lord Buddha and in our own
times, the patriot saint Gandhiji-the Mahatmaji of the adoring masses.
The modern boy-scout is urged to do at least one good turn every day.
Swamiji's persistent insistence to everyone he meets, is to fill the
entire day from dawn to dusk with good turns. At all places, in every
situation, throughout the waking hours, 'service' is to be the motto.
A robust positivism characterises Swamiji's attitude towards this factor
of being useful and doing good. "Ever be on the lookout for an opportunity
to serve. Never let by even a stray chance of being of some service.
You must be like a watch-dog, alert and keen to grasp at once any possibility
that presents itself, of being useful. Sharply watch and see what help
you can do to those about you". Thus run some of his favourite admonitions
to eager workers. Nay, he went a step further. You must create opportunities
to do something for others. Do not keep quiet waiting for a chance but
create means of making yourself useful and helpful, whichever way you
are particularly suited by temperament, talents and natural disposition.
No one is to neglect his or her natural talent. If a person is endowed
with fine physique and is of an energetic disposition, let him learn
some Asanas and exercises and spread physical culture among students
and youths. Let him do active and intense social service. A doctor should
treat the poor gratis. He must treat his patients with gentleness and
kindliness. Let him also be scrupulously honest in all his dealings
with his patients. A lawyer should refuse to argue false cases and avoid
taking recourse to untruth on any account. This will constitute the
greatest service to the cause of 'justice' in his capacity as lawyer.
In the educational field let the teacher or professor throw himself
heart and soul in elevating and moulding the character of the students
entrusted to his care. A trader, by being honest in all his transactions,
renders his service to society. Even a menial servant should faithfully
do his routine duties, looking upon his master with loyalty and reverence.
Thus, to suit every case, each in his particular sphere could live up
to this ideal of being helpful and serviceable.
As with Browning, Swamiji too firmly believes that "All service ranks
the same with God." There is no act of service ever so trifling that
one would be justified in passing it by. For it is not what we do that
matters, but with what attitude it is done that counts. Let every act
be a beautiful blossom reverentially laid at the feet of the Divine,
manifest as Humanity, i.e., Virat. And I have found that with Swamiji
this 'worship by service' is not so much poetry but it is the very fact
of his being.
Coming across old Sadhus, long-standing residents of Rishikesh and
its environs, I would sometimes obtain glimpses of Swamiji's Swargashram
days in the course of my talks with them. From what I could gather in
this way, I saw that Swamiji's method of service had one valuable feature
which is worth noting and emulating. That is the quality of motivelessness
and absence of ostentation. They would relate how Swamiji would wait
for the time when they were away from their cell, either at toilet or
bath, then enter it, sweep and clean the floor, wash the pot and refill
it with fresh water and come away silently. At other times, if a recluse
happened to be ailing, Swamiji would himself go to the Kshetra and get
Bhiksha on behalf of the sick person and procuring a little extra milk
would place it in his room and come away.
This silent and humble service was not that of a devout youngster to
his elders (for one must remember that at the time Swamiji was nearing
his fortieth year-a time when a person usually becomes invested with
a sense of dignity and subtle egotism peculiar to middle age). This
was possible because Swamiji has, throughout his life, unconsciously
retained the essential simplicity of the child.
When a certain monk belonging to the well-known Ramakrishna Order,
Swami Tanmayananda by name, was once laid up with a severe attack of
pox, Swamiji attended upon him for two or three weeks incessantly doing
all the work of nursing, feeding, cleaning and fetching pots full of
water from the river. Years later when recently I chanced upon the monk
Sri Tanmayananda, now grown old and infirm, he feelingly related to
me this incident and said, "He saved me from certain death that time.
None could have possibly served me in such a way as he did. If you see
him please take a note from me." And I wrote on a piece of soiled paper
his message of informal greetings to Swamiji, familiar in the way of
long-standing friends and gratefully reminiscent of the old days.
The test of genuineness of the selfless server is the whole-heartedness
of the urge in him. He must have no vestige of any sort of mental reservation
in his action. Else it will at once be felt by sensitive natures and
they will shrink from accepting the proffered hand. There was at that
time (about 1926) a young anchorite practising austerities at Swargashram.
He belonged to a very highly-placed family of the Southern Provinces,
almost a prince in a small way. So complete was his renunciation, so
severe the standard of self-denial, that he had set up for himself and
so extremely sensitive his disposition that he not only never accepted
any sort of gift from any one but also scrupulously avoided even borrowing
anything. He persistently declined Swamiji's offers of little things
of simple everyday necessity and would not allow of his attempts at
small services even. But gradually the absolute selflessness and the
genuineness of the desire to help, of Swamiji so overcame him that,
he ended by accepting whatever Swamiji brought to him. The onslaught
of this disinterested love made Bhaskarananda (for that was the name
of the youthful ascetic) relax the stern austerity for which his name
had become a byword amongst the hermit community of the place.
But not unfrequently the situation was of a different kind. Hearing
of his efficiency as a man of medicine and his loving nature numerous
people would invade his cell for help and treatment at all odd hours
of the day. So much so, that at times he felt forced to flee the locality
and hide himself either among the huge rocks by the waters' edge or
in some dilapidated Kutir further inside the jungle. Thus he would snatch
a quiet hour or two for deep meditation.
At times urgent summons would come from some distressed person; then
leaving aside everything Swamiji would run (at times even at midnight)
to relieve him. Once an amusing incident occurred which proved a trial
to his patience. A fastidious Sadhu at midnight invaded his Kutir, even
climbing the protective fencing surrounding it, to hammer on the door
insistently. It was to remove some grit that had entered his eye. Though
sorely tried, Swamiji maintained his equanimity, carefully attended
to his night-raider and sent him back satisfied. Calls to treat scorpion-bite
would come at all unexpected moments because the creatures abound in
the locality even to this day. Not once did he allow his temper to be
ruffled even under the most annoying circumstances. Such then is to
be the true spirit of the selfless server. Let him aim to be cheerful
and keep alive a genuine enthusiasm, not allowing disgust to creep in
even unnoticed-an ideal to be kept in mind, be it by the student, the
boy-scout, an occasional volunteer or the member of some service league,
in private or public capacity.
Once or twice these interesting remarks have escaped him... "On rare
occasions you must even be aggressive in your service. Sometimes helpless
persons in need of aid will foolishly refuse aid. In such cases do them
the required service in spite of their hesitation." He would laughingly
cite two occasions when he employed such aggressive methods, once forcibly
carrying about the monk Jnanananda in the hospital at Lucknow where
he was undergoing treatment; unable to walk the daily round from the
ward to the dressing-room and back again, the monk was at the same time
unwilling to ride on Swamiji's obliging shoulders. But the latter took
the matter into his own hands and carried the protesting but grateful
monk on his back daily.
The second incident was how he turned a deaf ear to the remonstrations
of the venerable lady, the pious and devoted Rani of Singhai and himself
lifted her up from the ferry-boat on to the steamer as they were proceeding
in a party on pilgrimage to Ganga-sagar. The water was rough and the
boat heaving alarmingly, and the frightened 'dear old lady' (she was
about seventy then) was in a quandary. She was at the same time full
with the instinctive feminine reluctance to accept Swamiji's aid. But
the latter did not waste time to argue. In a trice the protesting Rani
found herself gently and reverentially lifted up and safely deposited
on board the steamer, good-naturedly riled by her own daughters laughing
merrily at Swamiji's effective tactics. "But", (I remember his adding
quietly) "at all times be uniformly decent, delicate and courteous.
Always have consideration for others' feelings. Never be rough in the
name of 'service'."
CHAPTER TWO
To such of us that are so placed in life as to be denied the opportunity
and scope for doing actual active service most of the time, there is
another, a little known aspect of Swamiji's life, which has a wealth
of significance and inspiration. That is his practice of a continuous,
silent prayer, the hidden habit of 'constantly willing good' to all.
Those who are unable to engage in sustained service let them pray for
everyone, at all times, everywhere and on all occasions. Let them commence
to earnestly wish the happiness and good of all creatures. To fill the
heart with sincere motiveless love for all will, by itself, mysteriously
help those in need of aid and relief. This will itself constitute a
sublime service. Service is 'Love' in expression and the cherishing
of such a broad love in oneself, coupled with a strong positive desire
for Universal weal, becomes an effective and higher sort of service.
By generating a current of helpful and healing vibration, it will contribute
to common welfare in a subtle but none-the-less powerful way.
Swamiji puts this into practice everyday, even now. I have observed
that there is no exception to the prayer that he says. If he sees a
sick person he at once breathes a prayer to him. Happening to read the
obituary report of some person he will at once pray for his peace. For
the war to end soon as also for the relief of the starving multitudes
in Bengal, he regularly offers daily prayers. Seeing a lame dog, a prayer
will rise up in his heart. Perhaps an ant is accidentally trodden underfoot
in his presence, at that very moment a feeling heart would melt in hidden
prayer all unnoticed by those about him. Even hearing from another that
someone else is ill makes Swamiji pray for the stranger's recovery and
health. Perhaps some little disagreement resulted in a momentary angry
word or two between a couple of his own students; then too Swamiji's
only reaction would be to silently forego his next meal and pray for
the erring worker. Thus firmly has this habit of prayer become grounded
in his nature that it has come to be an inseparable part of Swamiji's
very existence.
There is something so peculiarly and essentially Christian about this
trait in him that the ordinary non-Christian will fail to understand
him. One may find it somewhat difficult to appreciate the significance
of this habit which savours so much of the Occident. The devout Christian
on the other hand will find it to be quite in sympathy with his firm
beliefs. Swamiji himself is very emphatic in his convictions about the
efficacy of prayer that is really earnest and genuine. He once said
in reply to a query, "Yes. Prayer has tremendous influence. It can work
anything provided you are sincere. It is at once heard and responded
to. Do it in the daily struggle of life and realise for yourself its
high efficacy. Pray in any way you like. Become as simple as a child.
Have no cunningness or crookedness. Then you will get everything."
That he has proved this to himself in his very life, I have no doubt.
I had the fortunate privilege to freely go through the voluminous mail
that he daily receives, practically from throughout the length and breadth
of the land. Without the least exaggeration I can state that people
keep writing to him from the whole of India. I found that everyday there
are numerous letters begging Swamiji to pray for some person or other.
Sometimes it is a prayer for recovery from illness. At another it is
for the long life of a new-born or the prosperity and happiness of a
newly-wed couple. One will write for prayer to succeed in some critical
endeavour. Then grateful acknowledgements of the mysterious efficacy
of Swamiji's prayers come as unsought-for testimonials. Call this a
result of subjective faith, law of psycho-therapeutics or what you will.
The bare truth is that it is a matter of fact. Quite recently the mail
brought with it three urgent telegrams on three consecutive days, all
requesting for the prayers of Swamiji on behalf of a chronic sufferer,
one Gopal M. from distant Feroke in Malabar. This and numerous similar
instances make one pause before venturing to entertain any doubt or
scepticism as to whether Swamiji's firm opinion on the subject of prayer
is based upon personal experiment and experience or not. The intellectual
and the rationalist is bound to smile indulgently at this somewhat eccentric
anachronism of such a kind of perpetual piecemeal praying, for anything
and everything, in an enlightened age as this. But one would do well
to ask himself how it is that Sri Gandhiji, universally acknowledged
as one of the greatest thinkers of our times, happens at the same time
to be a staunch and confirmed votary and a most ardent advocate of prayer?
Were the practice of prayer an obsolete antiquity, then Gandhiji's critical
intellect (whose pre-eminence none questions) would have ere now rejected
it unhesitatingly. Those who regard prayer as something queer and puerile
are those who have never bestowed a thought as to what prayer is and
how it works. Prayer for others is, in a way, the intense willing of
good. Now this constant habit of unselfishly desiring good to all evokes
a stream of pure 'love' in the praying heart. Pure unselfish 'love'
is in essence really God Himself. Love is the very essence of divinity.
Thus in prayer a wave of divinity is set up in the etheric field in
which the Universe has its being. And wherever there is need of it,
this wave reaches and acts with its benign force. When one reminds oneself
that right at this very moment some insignificant individual (let us
call X) sitting at a table in a dingy office in one corner of the world,
is able by jabbing away at a knob with a staccato rattle, to register
a message and set things moving thousands of miles away in some other
corner, then it becomes easy to accept that there can be a positive
efficacy and power in prayer. The mental and supra-mental powers in
man are rapidly being recognised as most potent factors in the shaping
of human affairs.
Swamiji is so filled with this conviction that any observer, who is
curious enough to note, will find that he has tagged up prayer as an
invariable item in every sort of occasion and function imaginable. I
could see that whatever is done, either by himself or by others under
his guidance, always started with and ended with a prayer. If a room
was being constructed then the workers were made to gather round a tiny
lamp, sing the Lord's Name, chant a prayer and then commence the work.
A consignment of marble image arrives and immediately a prayer is arranged.
Should a dinner be given to a party of Sadhus, then too, a prayer is
an invariable item of the function. While packets and leaflets are done
up or magazines wrapped for mailing, Swamiji would tell the workers
"Pray and praise the Lord while your hands are doing the work. Do not
carry on loose talk." And at the Ashram itself, he and his little band
of workers, assemble in the prayer hall on the hillside and there the
Lord's Name is chanted in unison and then a prayer for Universal Peace
is solemnly uttered in the stillness of twilight.
CHAPTER THREE
To the casual observer, however, externally there is very little in
Swamiji's day-to-day activities to suggest a man of prayer. Indeed the
exact opposite impression. If ever a person is thoroughly removed from
the dreamy mystic type, it is Swamiji. For I have seldom witnessed a
busier or a more intensely active life. For an ascetic, who had shut
himself up in seclusion for more than half a decade and has stuck to
the selfsame spot for well nigh a quarter of a century, he is of an
incredibly dynamic type. I have to admit that, when I was new to him,
until I got accustomed to his surprisingly ceaseless activity, I was
for sometime left helpless and gaping. Recently they celebrated his
57th birthday (and six months have already passed) and yet to this day,
try as I may, I cannot get over the feeling that he is not one hour
older than sixteen. And rest assured, I am not a bit sentimental about
this, but from what I see with mine own eyes, I am literally forced
to accept this paradoxical fact. There is about him an air of such juvenile
vivacity that completely belies his years. Oftentimes it happens that
some idea suddenly strikes him or some new scheme unexpectedly appeals
to him. It sets him at once all abubbling with an exquisite boyish enthusiasm.
His cheeks are set aglow with a childlike excitement and expectancy
and the lively sparkle in the clear eyes reflects the keen zest with
which he applies himself to anything that once catches his fertile imagination.
With him there are no half measures; there is nothing of indecision,
much less of hesitation. He is as thorough in his actions as he is earnest
and deep in his inward life of prayer and almost constant holy recollection.
From the solemnity and silence of his room by the waters' edge, a room
sounding only with the whispers and murmurs of the sacred river softly
flowing past in all her majestic serenity, he will step out in the morning
at about ten. The moment he steps out of his room, he is a different
man altogether. He becomes a veritable live-wire. With a brisk gait,
he will walk up to the Society premises and his appearance is at once
a signal to set the little community of his student-workers hum with
activity. It is impossible to be dull or slovenly in his presence. His
dealing with certain aspirants who used to go about their work in a
dreamy and abstract fashion, was rather amusing. One such aspirant had
acquired a sort of deceptive indolence imagining it to be a way of expressing
inner spiritual tranquillity. It happened that Swamiji was conversing
with some visitors on the broad verandah skirting the hall of common
worship on the hillside. The youth in question came ambling up the pathway
in leisurely stateliness which immediately caught Swamiji's eye. "Come
on here, young man" he called out, and then, "What is the matter with
all of you? Are you being underfed? Is there nothing in the kitchen?
Or is it that you don't get time to eat? Your hair is not grey yet.
Why then this deportment of a half-starved being? Where is your energy,
your youth? Why can't you step about with a bound and a jump? Let me
see you sprint. Now take a run round the hall. Come on."
A sheepish expression that the youth assumed so tickled Swamiji that
he suddenly turned round to me and said with a serious nod, "Look here,
I want to send this X (naming the youth) to a military camp. It is only
a military training which will infuse pep into these entranced hermits.
I think man is born lazy. It seems that a life of renunciation is synonymous
with physical quiescence and inactivity. Where they obtain such ideas
the Lord alone knows. You have to learn lessons from the busy man of
the city and the young medical students. How agile, efficient and full
of enthusiasm is the young medico! How briskly from block to block,
from ward to ward, along verandahs and through corridors, does the medico
step about in his daily work in the hospital! Why can't we take his
example? A world-renouncer should, on the other hand, be the most dynamic
of workers because he has the advantage of wholly being free from the
multifarious vexing activities and distractions that beset a man in
the worldly life. Be energetic from tomorrow. Let me see you run and
not walk. Let me see you everywhere at once. Sloth does not constitute
sainthood. If it were so, then every chair, table, pillar and wall would
have to be canonised. Shake yourself up, my young man, and turn out
into a versatile worker".
This drew forth a hurried and embarrassed "Yes Sir, I will, I will,"
from the confused youth as he hastily retreated from the spot. The next
instant Swamiji naively addressed the visitors saying, "What do you
say to this, am I right in having said so? Or am I being a bore in sermonising?
Don't you really think that everyone ought to be active and energetic?"
And sure enough, from the next day, not only the particular aspirant
but also one or two other amblers were observed to step on it with added
zest and vigour.
In this connection I cannot help digressing to mention a peculiar phenomenon
that has caught my attention. It is this. Whatever Swamiji asks or advises
a person to do, sooner or later the person begins to follow in spite
of himself. He may be a most heedless and negligent sort. He might forget
Swamiji's suggestion. He may just make light of the instruction, or
fail to pay any attention to it, due to preoccupation. But he will invariably
end up by following it. Now, what is the explanation of this? The reader
doubtless knows that there are thousands of irate fathers, despairing
mothers, helpless school-masters and professors, furious employers and
bitterly complaining public leaders, all utterly dismayed and distracted
at their failure to make others listen to their ceaseless admonitions,
obey their words and follow their lead. They are at a loss as to how
to make those about them pay any heed to their counsel. But here is
one, surrounded by a band of workers (who have by the very nature of
their lives, no ultimate connection with one another, and who have freedom
from all bonds as their aim) who utters a few sentences of advice and
instruction and never racks his brains about ways and means of enforcing
them; and yet within a short time beholds them being diligently put
into practice. Wherein lies the secret of this? What lesson of practical
utility could be drawn out of this? I am forced to conclude that it
lies in the deep difference that exists between the mere saying of certain
things and actually being and doing them oneself. People are not generally
moved to action by the words of a person but, on the other hand, almost
unconsciously begin to copy and follow him when they observe him actually
living his precepts. If one actually lives the exhortations that he
utters, then, even the most recalcitrant and the proudest will bend
before him. For, example verily is yet the highest known method of evoking
emulation. For instance, what a vast gulf there is between one who professes
and preaches selfless service and another who, according to his native
disposition, ceaselessly serves all beings with equal vision? Trying
to review the serious problem of advice and obedience in this light
will doubtless help the vexed parents, preachers, teachers and leaders
a great deal.
It is this law that is also at the back of the admirable attainments
of the modern miracle of a man, Sri Gandhiji, in the field of politics
and social morality. To millions, his is a name to conjure by and he
is a power to be reckoned with. This phenomenal achievement is attributable
to the utter sincerity of his life and the exact correspondence of his
life to the beliefs he holds. To do even the lowliest act as the highest
worship is one of the dominant notes of his life. One is told how when
his son Sri Devadas Gandhi was married to the daughter of the reputed
C.R., the very first thing Gandhiji had them do, immediately after the
ceremony, was to take up broom and pail in hand and clean some spots
in the locality. This was the wedding present of the groom's father
to the new couple! The 'Old Man of Sewagram' has successfully striven
to make himself the living embodiment of the ideals that he seeks to
propagate.
This very phenomenon it is that shines through the varied activities
of the dynamic saint of 'Ananda Kutir'. It dawned on me that to Swamiji
ethical and spiritual truths were not so many sentences on the pages
of the sacred books, but were to become facts of one's life, a life
of being and doing. Let one but strive to become the incarnate expression
of the advice and admonitions that he wants to be heard and followed,
then, as sure as day follows night, will the world follow his lead.
To be like the Brahmin in the fable and to expect obedience will only
prove futile. It is related that a Brahmin of Karnatak, a reader of
scriptures by profession, was on one occasion presented with a basket
of vegetables by an appreciative member of the daily audience. There
were among others, a few fresh and juicy brinjals in the vegetables
presented. The Pundit on reaching home that day handed them to his timid
wife and asked her to prepare a nice curry of the brinjals. Now it had
so happened that the day previous, the Pundit had discoursed on some
texts dealing with the qualities of various things and had explained
that brinjals were to be eschewed from one's menu as they (brinjals)
were classed among articles that tended to rouse the dire nature or
Tamas in man. His wife who had been present during the exposition had
heard this and now she recalled the passages and made bold to mention
the injunction to the Pundit. Instantly, he turned round on her and
exclaimed, "Hush woman, do you seek to teach me 'Dharma'? Listen, the
vegetable that was forbidden is the 'brinjal in the book,' not the 'vegetables
in the basket'. Make haste thou and cook this brinjal in the basket."
Referring to this type of people, the saint Sri Ramakrishna used, in
his own inimitably quaint way, to say, "Mere erudition and knowledge
of scriptures is of no avail. If a scholar is also endowed with dispassion
and discrimination then I feel nervous while visiting him. But if he
is a mere Pundit without Vairagya then I look upon him as a mere dog
or a goat."
It is the fact that, to the best of his ability, Swamiji constantly
endeavours to embody in life whatever he speaks and writes, that makes
it impossible for one to pass over his words lightly. The practical
counsels that come from Swamiji have a vital, though quiet, authority
behind them. They carry with them an incontestable assurance and reliability
such as that behind a serum that comes out of the Pasteur Institute
or a formula given out by 'May and Bakers'.
CHAPTER FOUR
When he urges one and all to keep themselves ever active in service
and doing of altruistic works, it is just what he is himself actually
doing. There is not one idle moment in Swamiji's life. He does not know
what 'ennui' is, just as Napoleon did not know what 'impossible' meant.
At times he would say that "24 hours are all too little for a day. They
are not enough. Every moment is precious. Even a single minute should
not be wasted. Keeping the body and mind fully engaged is the best panacea
for all physical and mental ills. Unregulated living and idleness are
prolific parents of every known evil. Therefore, like Benjamin Franklin,
Samuel Smiles and others, Swamiji sticks to a time-table of activities
for the day, allocating definite occupations for set times of the day.
This practice he recommends to all people in whichever walk of life
they be. This principle of a definite daily routine, while giving scope
for maximum and continued activity, yet enables one to maintain serenity
as it eliminates all aimlessness and distractions. Though, by nature,
Swamiji is utterly the reverse of all formality and convention, yet
there is not the least tinge of weakness or vagueness about him. He
combines ceaseless energetic activity with constant and undisturbed
serenity. Delightfully unconventional he is, yet effortlessly and unconsciously
dignified. This has been possible because there are no 'loose ends'
in his time and activities. It is the man that does not know "what to
do next" that usually ends in failure. The harmonious blend of serenity
and activity Swamiji manifests, is the acquisition of a life of carefully
regulated action and a full and fixed daily routine. Such exact routine
and regularity effectively eliminates all idleness and agitation from
the mind, investing life with a mantle of dignity and calm which one
can't dream of finding in the irregular and chaotic life of a man without
programme and principle.
Doubtless, time is short and to devote it to worthy pursuits, the busy
man of the city finds very little of it to spare. Yet, he will find
that if he but regulates his activities, he will, in a short time, discover
that a good deal of time which is habitually wasted away unnoticed will
come to light. The fruitful living of one's life is only possible through
a wise and worthy utilisation of time. The latter is therefore important
indeed, and no effort is too much if thereby one is enabled to lessen
sorrow, enhance one's own as well as others' happiness in this world.
The time that you daily spend on the train, tram or bus, to and from
your place of study, work or business, could be harnessed and utilised
for self-improvement and evolution instead of in the time-honoured processes
of window-gazing or gently dozing. Further, the midday lunch time recess
is not to be frittered away flippantly in gossip. Then again, when a
man waits for the bus, tonga or train, he invariably gives himself up
to profitless worry or to aimless reverie. This twofold evil must be
stopped and such time also has to be 'pressed into service', if you
are really eager to win the battle against all failure, weakness, pain
and evil. These odd bits of time, slipping away here and there, all
unnoticed, have to be carefully checked up and put to good use. Just
as in a total struggle, every unit of man-power is conscripted and also
all manner of scrapes is collected and made into weapons of offence
and defence, even so, the individual attempting to achieve success must
pool together all his resources and utilise every moment of his life-span
profitably. Every single day is, as it were, a valuable oyster-shell
that comes floating-by on the time-current of the stream of life. The
diligent one who realises the great value of time and makes a full and
careful use of it has, in effect, promptly opened the shell and secured
a priceless pearl ere the oyster has floated away 'down-stream.' The
waster of time has lost the pearl never to see it again. Day by day
through the years, wasted days form so many rings of iron that link
themselves into a chain binding the heedless person to the existence.
But the profitable life forms, at the close, a beautiful chain of precious
pearls laid at the feet of the Giver of life.
Some of those who have come into personal contact with Swamiji have
been inspired by his example and have adopted this course of using every
moment profitably. There is no doubt that it has changed their lives
for the better. A notable example of this is Sri D.N.J. of Delhi, a
gentleman of the legal profession, who has successfully cultivated this
habit of making the best use of every minute of his time to improve
himself. The popular business psychologist, Dale Carnegie too, lays
very great stress upon the vital importance of this practice. Assiduously
cultivated, it will definitely bring astonishing returns to the seeker
of success. One should cultivate the same jealous parsimony with regard
to time as displayed by the vigilant individual who exclaimed, "Alas!
I have just lost one golden hour set with sixty diamond minutes."
This great emphasis laid by him on the conservation and profitable
utilization of time has resulted in a unique feature, i.e., the Spiritual
Diary. It will act as an effective 'Cerberus' to keep guard over the
elusive factor of 'Time' by keeping out the thieves-idleness, aimlessness
and procrastination. Referring to the incalculable benefits of maintaining
the 'diary' Swamiji has stated, "There is no other best friend and faithful
teacher or Guru than your diary. It will teach you the value of time.
Then you will be able to know how much time you are spending for worthy
purposes. If you maintain a daily diary properly, without any fault
in any of the items, you will not like to waste a single minute unnecessarily.
Then alone you will understand the value of time and how it slips away."
Like the sped arrow and the spoken word, the spent hour too is irrecoverable.
This aspect of it is ever vividly before Swamiji's mind. We have it
in his valuable work "Sure Ways for Success in Life" where he writes,
"Time is indeed most precious. It can never come back. It is rolling
on with a tremendous speed. When the bell rings, remember you are approaching
death. When the clock strikes, bear in mind that one hour is cut off
from the span of your life." Well has the Western mind conceived of
'Time' as a fleeting old man with a single tuft of hair on the front
of the head. 'Time and tide' are two mighty forces that can neither
be held up nor recalled for the convenience of man. Therefore with Swamiji
the motto is 'Do It Now.' What can be done a month hence should be done
today. If a thing may be done tomorrow, well, do it now. Things must
be done at once. Death will not announce his visit to you beforehand
for you to prepare yourself. "Life is short. Time is fleeting. Arise,
Awake, Realise the Self"-These are terse maxims which he never fails
to present to those that seek his guidance. To one who spoke of 'turning
over a new leaf' on some date in the near future, Swamiji spiritedly
exclaimed, "Don't say that. That tomorrow is for fools. It will never
come. Days, months, years, even life itself, will pass away unawares.
Exert yourself from this very second."
It is a significant thing that Swamiji, a Sannyasin and one revered
by many as a bold exponent of Advaita Vedanta should lay such emphasis
upon diary, routine, self-culture and success in life, etc., because
Maya-Vadins, as a rule, negate the very existence of the body, Vyavaharic
activity and the world itself. There is a sound reason behind this.
Advaita-Siddhi is actually the highest pinnacle, the grand culmination
and the crowning glory of spiritual life. It is the last word in realization
for the Vedantin. As such, it is not a matter for glib talk and lofty
presumption by all and sundry. One has first to render himself fit to
receive and assimilate this dizzy truth by preparing the mind through
a life of discipline and regulation. Breaking through the cobwebs of
Mayaic illusion is not a joking matter. Every moment of your life, every
ray of your mind and every faculty of your being has to be resolutely
directed towards the task of freeing yourself from the coils of the
narrow egoistic personality. To the earnest seeker, all the difficulties
and obstacles are very real indeed. Details of discipline have to be
very, very, practical. Theory will only serve to inspire and to guide
but practical exertion alone gradually 'step by step' turns the theory
into fact. As he often says, one has to ascend the 'Ladder of Yoga'
step by step and in this process, vigilance, conservation of energy,
profitable utilization of time, are all of paramount importance.
CHAPTER FIVE
It is on the subject of spiritual life and practical spiritual Sadhana,
more than on other matters, that a great many lessons could be drawn
through the unbiased study of Swamiji from the early stages of severe
discipline, asceticism and inner struggle; the steady and determined
efforts of the earnest aspirant, the progressive victory of a resolute
will and a regulated routine over the deceptive wiles of the mind and
finally the full unfoldment of the present personality.
From what could be gathered of his previous life, before he took to
this path of renunciation and spiritual attainment, some very instructive
facts come to light. In a way his earliest years were the fashioning
(though unconscious) of the framework over which the inspiring edifice
of his later spiritual life was built up.
From the very beginning, Swamiji had the natural faculty of devoting
his entire attention and all his energies to any task that he happened
to take in hand. He would ignore and forget everything that did not
concern the matter on hand. As an youngster, for instance, at one period
in his teens, Swamiji was fired with the idea of physical culture. His
mind at once caught up the idea enthusiastically and was filled with
it. He immediately began to take keen interest in exercising on the
parallel and the horizontal bars. His orthodox parents did not view
it with any great favour. But the boy used to be up from bed, even as
early as 3.00 a.m. or 3.30 a.m. in the small hours of the morning and
slip away before the rest of the household arose from slumber.
"I have to confess," he once said, with a reminiscent twinkle in his
eyes "that many a time I used to place a pillow on my bed and cover
it up carefully with a blanket to give the appearance of my innocent
self sleeping soundly." This was for the edification of the watchful
father. The boy would at that time be in the gymnasium absorbed in his
vigorous pastime.
He was endowed with a fair amount of dash and boldness and consequently
to receive august visitors, deliver addresses or enact plays, he was
much sought after by his friends and superiors. Though modest, he would
readily come forward on occasions and was not to be overawed by personalities.
This latter trait is even now prominent in him and it had served him
greatly in his Sadhana days at Swargashram. It has also partly helped
in making him the frank and fearless reformer that he is. He is not
easily subdued by public criticism. He does not care for anyone's opinion
once he sets himself to do something which he is convinced is conducive
to common weal.
It might well be within the personal experience of the reader too that,
when one tries to stick to his well-grounded convictions and assays
to act up to them, he is always confronted with a good deal of active
opposition that tries his mettle. On such occasions, Swamiji would never
desert his principles. With a characteristic gesture, the right hand
pushing up the spectacles and a quick vigorous shake of the index-finger
of the upraised left hand, Swamiji once exclaimed, "No! No! I am not
always like this. I am most aggressive. If occasion arises, I shall
never give in. Sometimes I become a fighter and then I can be formidable.
In that respect I am Guru Govind Singh. One has to be spirited when
the situation demands."
This is indeed sound advice for those of us who are striving to live
up to certain high ideals and principles and encounter trying situations
in the process. Particularly when you are disposed to be quiet and humble
by nature and, therefore, prone to relapse into timidity in the face
of opposition, the above aspect of Swamiji's nature affords a clue to
the attitude you should adopt.
His days as a student of medicine were also characterised by the same
whole-heartedness and zeal as is so evident in him even now. Apropos
of a casual remark once made within his heating, Swamiji once said,
"I really don't know what it is to do things by halves. I always used
to do everything fully and properly. The usual sort of eleventh hour
preparation, so common among you, youths of the present day, was unknown
to me. I was ever ready to answer examinations on any subject without
previous intimation. Even now, I feel just like a student about to attend
an examination. Such a sort of constant readiness and vigilance has
become one of my habitual traits. I know no rest. I am always alert
and occupied. You must all try to look upon life in this manner, as
an eternal student. Ever be keenly on the look-out for learning something
new, each day, even each hour. Be like me an intellectual scout. You
can learn something from everyone. Everything in this universe has some
lesson to give to one who is receptive. Don't pass by any experience
lightly. Draw instruction and inspiration from every great example in
the world. Thus perhaps, some chance word of admonition, lost in the
subconscious mind, might come up at some critical juncture in one's
life and save us from disaster or change the course of our lives. Extract
something from everything and treasure it up in your mind. Carelessness
about minor details is not an expression of Vairagya but is a Tamasik
habit of neglect."
He has cultivated the above kind of alert receptivity with care and
deliberation. He keeps a recording notebook with him constantly and
immediately jots down in it any new idea or thought that occurs to him,
any novel suggestion and information given out in his presence. He is
convinced that this practice is of immense advantage, both from a spiritual
as well as secular point of view.
As a young medico, he used to remain in the hospital even during holidays
and instead of wasting away the day, gave his mind wholly to hospital
work, study and observation. He would shut out all other thoughts and
get immersed in this interesting pursuit. No wonder then that, even
as student of the first year, he was well conversant with the entire
syllabus of the whole course! This is the key to the apparently effortless
and unbroken concentration this Swamiji's routine life now reveals.
I have observed him at times on a settee in the room that serves as
office of the Divine Life Society. He would sit there replying to some
distant agitated aspirant, answering queries and clearing doubts. A
typewriter tattoos away noisily with a nervous rattle, a regular soft
'thud', 'thud' comes from the next room where somebody is stamping new
books with the library seal. From outside, the sound of nails being
hammered into a packing case of books, on the road, a few yards away
from the room, the loud chant of a batch of pilgrims or the unimaginably
deafening din of a passing motor-bus, while from the Ganges is heard
the pious shouts of a ferry-boatful of Yatris. As though these were
not enough, just near Swamiji squat a party of visitors, one enquiring
about a Hindi book, another placing some flowers and fruits on the table,
a child becoming restive and talkative, and on the top of all, some
hill-man come to ask for some medicine for an ailing daughter; and the
figure on the settee quietly absorbed in the work before him, undisturbed
in the even and easy flow of his pen. So intent is he on the task that,
until the letter is complete, his spectacles removed and restored to
its case, and the pen capped and laid down on the table, he is quiet,
unaware of those about him. Only when he looks up, sees the visitors,
hears the noise, does he say, "Please stop the hammering; ask S. to
stamp the books later."
The development of this sort of one-pointedness is very essential for
every aspirant as well as for the layman too. Concentration is not any
peculiar ritual or any set exercise to be performed at stated times
of the day. It has to become the habitual state of mind of the Sadhaka.
Swamiji would state that there is no miraculous short-cut or magical
formula for concentration and meditation. It comes naturally to the
man who makes it a practice to do even the smallest act with attention
and interest. To execute little tasks in a slovenly and careless manner,
day by day, renders the mind weak and causes it to lose all acumen and
capacity for concentration. He says, "Do you affix a postal stamp to
a cover or are you paring a pencil? Well, do it with the same care and
minute attention as a jeweller would in setting a diamond to a ring
meant for royalty; or as an ophthalmic surgeon would execute a delicate
eye-operation. Do everything that you do-eating, cleaning the teeth,
reading, writing, even wiping a shoe-with your whole mind and attention.
Concentration will develop most effectively."
Pavhari Baba, the saint of Gazipur, used to give similar advice to
aspirants, i.e., to do even the least and the smallest of acts as though
the very life depended upon doing it. Forget everything else beside
the immediate task on hand.
With Swamiji as a doctor on the F.M.S. (after his student days), we
witness the same absorption in his medical and philanthropic activities.
And it brought him unscathed through that decade of Malayan life, a
life which used invariably to prove disastrous to the morals of most
newcomers; for these islands of the Archipelago were to the enterprising
Indians what Honolulu and Tahiti were to unguarded Westerners.
Of course, in the case of the spiritual aspirant, the object of concentration
as well as the attitude with which it is pursued will necessarily have
to be tinged with religious colouring. He has to connect everything
with this spiritual ideal.
Likewise this same talent is sought to be developed in the West too,
but there it is in a purely materialistic way. Psychologists of the
West have been aware of the great importance of focussing one's faculties
in the growth and development of the individual.
In this matter of cultural growth, the point of vital importance is
that such a training should be commenced from the very earliest period
of the individual's life. The necessity of encouraging this habit, right
from childhood, has been well recognised by the West. We see the children
being provided with building blocks, pictorial cubes and later with
jig-saw puzzles, still later on with intelligent and scientific devices
like the 'Mechano',' which aid greatly in inducing the habit of attention
and concentration.
It was with frank wonderment that I saw that, this hermit sage, settled
in the isolated corner that Rishikesh is, has long been applying these
principles in his mission of awakening and regenerating Indian spirituality
and culture. The actual experiment that he started in his immediate
locality has showed itself to be an astonishing success. The little
primary school run at the Ashram is something of a 'phenomenon' in itself.
Tiny tots, who have hardly learned to articulate, go through the intricacies
of 'Kirtan Kolattam,' the 'Rama-Sita-drill,' 'Kirtan marching,' etc.
Visitors at the Ashram, specially during times of Sadhana weeks and
such occasions, find it difficult to believe their own eyes when, before
an assembly of more than hundred to two hundred persons, an infant being
lifted up to the platform, solemnly bowing to them and after a tiny
four-line speech in Hindi as also in English, commences Nama-Sankirtan
with a sweet "Radhe-Krishna, Gopal-Krishna". Another toddler will dismay
you with a recitation of some select verses from the Upanishads and
the Gita halting only to recover its breath. It is significant here
that though Swamiji is up-to-date in his principles and views, yet,
in the practical details of his methods, he takes care to see that they
are quite in keeping with the tradition and culture of the land. It
is the failure to take this precaution that has resulted in the unhappy
mess that is the youth of India today, an unenviable combination of
half oriental and half occidental ideas, ideals and instincts.
Even as "It is never too late to mend," just so, Swamiji believes in
"It is never too early to begin." He even goes a step ahead and maintains
that the training of the individual should start prior to birth. He
says, "The impressions strike deep root in the brain of the foetus that
dwells in the womb. If the pregnant woman does Japa and Kirtan, if she
studies religious books and leads a pious life during pregnancy, the
foetus is endowed with spiritual Samskaras or impressions, and is born
as a child with spiritual inclination or spiritual tendency."
Again, "The minds of children are elastic and plastic when they are
young. They can be nicely moulded without much effort. The impressions
that are made in the young minds last till death. They cannot be erased."
Whenever a householder visits Swamiji, the latter always asks him if
he is training his children on the proper lines and moulding their lives
from early age. It is also his fond desire that there should be an ideal
institution where select children, willingly dedicated by their parents,
should receive training from their very childhood under the care of
selfless Sannyasins to become models of spirituality and of service.
They must be so surrounded with ideal environments that they grow up
absolutely free of the slightest trace of worldliness in them and should
be saturated with the highest and noblest sentiments. Who knows! A day
might come when such an institution as this might spring up and become
the generatrix of a band of cosmic educators and servants of humanity.
CHAPTER SIX
Overshadowing all else, dominating every other feature and equalled
only by his consuming spirit of service, shines the spirit of renunciation
of Swamiji. In this matter he is a model and an ideal of peerless value
to aspirants of all time. How very forcefully it is brought home to
us by the outstanding event of his life i.e., his spiritual conversion
and renunciation becomes evident as one considers the background at
that time.
As a busy doctor and popular social figure, Swamiji had then no idea
of renunciation or self-realization. An itinerant Sannyasin, stopping
for a few days with the young doctor, fell ill and so carefully and
tenderly did the doctor nurse him back to health that the Sadhu became
captivated by the loving treatment. He had had with him certain very
valuable Vedantic books which he cherished jealously. He had been keeping
them concealed and at first had refused to part with them. Now he voluntarily
gave to the doctor the best book from the lot. It was the Jiva-Brahma-Aikyam
by Satchidananda Swami. It acted as the spark to ignite the dormant
spirituality of Swamiji and set his thoughts Godward. It led to the
study of other books-works of Swami Ram Tirtha, theosophical literature,
Swami Vivekananda, etc. Awakened thus to the grandeur and truth of the
spiritual life, the remarkably vigorous mind of Swamiji lost no time
in plunging into this quest with his characteristic thoroughness. Like
all that he did, his adoption of the new life was now as complete and
final as his former passionate loyalty to his medical and philanthropic
work.
So extreme was the spirit of dispassion that now seized him, so absolute
the breaking away from the former life, that one feels amazed to think
on it, specially considering the zeal and earnestness with which he
worked as a doctor coupled with the great popularity and influence that
was his happy lot. His winning manners and the force of his active and
captivating personality had made him something of a power in those parts.
Halting the train for his sake, the railway staff would see to it that
the beloved doctor did not miss his journey. If he had to sail by ship
and happened to arrive a trifle late at the quay-side, the Singapore
boat having steamed off from the jetty, would stop for him to come on
board. The exceptional privilege of doing cash transactions at important
banks even on Sundays and holidays, was his. And at one stroke all these-position,
influence, prosperity and popularity-were discarded like worthless chaff.
The next that is seen of the prosperous and promising man is on the
dusty winding highroads of this mysterious land of ours, a pilgrim,
all alone, set on reaching the City of the Eternal. The simple cloth
he wore, and a vessel and staff made up his entire wealth, while but
a short time back he was the master of the merry household, ever humming
with entertainment and hospitality. The enthusiastic possessor of cabin
trunks full of costly silken apparel, shirts, trousers, coats, etc.,
(for Swamiji has been a lover of beauty and the good things of life)
made himself a penniless wanderer for the sake of the ideal that had
fired his heart. We are told, how, being fond of dress and ornaments,
he had a regular collection of golden rings and watch-chains, the former
comprising of precious stones of all kinds and description. Anything
of beauty or culture appealed to the sense of the artist in him; he
immediately acquired, whether it was really necessary to him or not
he never considered; it was immaterial to him. Brand new typewriters,
three beautiful gramophones and several harmoniums too were among his
collections. All this was effaced from his life overnight by his flaming
aspiration and with a determination and dispassion akin to that of Siddhartha
and Gopichand of old, he now cast aside a position of power and plenty
to become a mendicant relying solely on God, with Vairagya as his only
wealth.
A half-hearted and wavering sort of renunciation is the main cause
for the dismal failure of ninety per cent of the aspirants of the present
day, who take to the Nivritti-Marga. You do not stamp out all traces
of the old affections, memories, preferences, etc. Therefore even after
years of Sannyasa life, the renunciation yet remains only partial and
ultimately you end in a state of melancholy and passive resignation.
Your mind gets filled with vague longings and vain regrets. To all such,
the example of Swamiji's spirit becomes the ideal to be kept before
the mind and emulated.
To the hesitating and the vacillating ones, this is indeed an object
lesson. Indecision in taking such an important step in life will result
in the loss of both the worldly life as well as the life of spirit.
Like a being with his feet on two boats, the fate of the half-hearted
will be to get plunged in an ocean of despair. In a lesser way, even
in ordinary worldly life, it is necessary to cultivate such a fiery
determination and finality in making important resolves and in attempting
to root out any vice, addiction, etc., that enslaves you.
Hence it is from the actual experience that he has lived that voices
the exhortation to aspirants, "Have strong determination and an iron
will. Never think of returning back home after taking to the Nivritti
Marga-Have courage and fixity of mind and a definite purpose in life.
Be not wavering. Are you ready to give up all possessions including
body and life?...Then alone you can take to the Nivritti Marga and embrace
Sannyasa. A man of patience, perseverance and iron will alone can tread
this path. This is not a rosy path as you may imagine. It is full of
thorns. It is beset with countless difficulties. Have you fully determined
with an iron will to stick to the line of Sannyasa at any cost? Can
you cut off all connections with your relatives? Think well."
Again he would say, "You must think deeply over a matter for some time
and should be able to come to a definite decision. At once you must
apply your will. You must immediately try to put the matter into execution.
Then only you will succeed. Remember the wise saying: "Cut the Gordian
Knot."
How fearlessly he has himself done this "cutting" is too patent to
require mention. Suffice it to say that his spiritual conversion was
something like the proverbial resurrection of the Phoenix which 'dies
to be born anew.'
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nothing that is worthwhile is to be achieved without undergoing a corresponding
amount of pain and suffering. No enduring ideal can be attained without
toil and sweat. The seed splits and perishes to put forth the plant.
The flower lays its life to give place to the sweet fruit. It is in
the furnace that gold emerges from the ore. Even so, the price of sainthood
is to be paid in the interim period of utter loneliness, privation and
struggle which the aspiring soul passes through.
The early itinerant days of Swamiji bring out fully this hard truth.
Bare-headed and bare-footed, scantily clothed, the lone novice wandered
beneath the burning skies of Maharashtra. At times overtaken by nightfall,
while trudging along strange roads, the wanderer slept on the bare earth
at the foot of some roadside tree. Not infrequently, starvation fell
to his lot and days were, when the tired mendicant, forced by hunger,
would pick up wild figs and cherries, scattered along the wayside and
eat them after carefully wiping away the dirt and the dust covering
the fallen fruit. The two pieces of cloth were reduced to rags but Swamiji
heeded it not. The stern rigours of this hard life only fanned up the
blaze that was burning in his heart.
