To spread his message to the four corners of the earth Sri
Ramakrishna
needed a strong instrument. With his frail body and delicate limbs he
could
not make great journeys across wide spaces. And such an instrument was
found in Narendranath Dutta, his beloved Naren, later known to the
world
as Swami Vivekananda. Even before meeting Narendranath, the Master had
seen him in a vision as a sage, immersed in the meditation of the
Absolute,
who at Sri Ramakrishna's request had agreed to take human birth to
assist
him in his work.
Narendra was born in Calcutta on January 12, 1863, of an aristocratic
kayastha family. His mother was steeped in the great Hindu epics, and
his
father, a distinguished attorney of the Calcutta High Court, was an
agnostic
about religion, a friend of the poor, and a mocker at social
conventions.
Even in his boyhood and youth Narendra possessed great physical courage
and presence of mind, a vivid imagination, deep power of thought, keen
intelligence, an extraordinary memory, a love of truth, a passion for
purity,
a spirit of independence, and a tender heart. An expert musician, he
also
acquired proficiency in physics, astronomy, mathematics, philosophy,
history,
and literature. He grew up into an extremely handsome young man. Even
as a child he practised meditation and showed great power of
concentration.
Though free and passionate in word and action, he took the vow of
austere
religious chastity and never allowed the fire of purity to be
extinguished by
the slightest defilement of body or soul.
As he read in college the rationalistic Western philosophers of the
nineteenth century, his boyhood faith in God and religion was
unsettled. He
would not accept religion on mere faith; he wanted demonstration of
God.
But very soon his passionate nature discovered that mere Universal
Reason
was cold and bloodless. His emotional nature, dissatisfied with a mere
abstraction, required a concrete support to help him in the hours of
temptation.
He wanted an external power, a guru, who by embodying perfection
in the flesh would still the commotion of his soul. Attracted by the
magnetic
personality of Keshab, he joined the Brahmo Samaj and became a singer
in
its choir. But in the Samaj he did not find the guru who could say that
he had seen God.
In a state of mental conflict and torture of soul, Narendra came to Sri
Ramakrishna at Dakshineswar. He was then eighteen years of age and had
been in college two years. He entered the Master's room accompanied by
some light-hearted friends. At Sri Ramakrishna's request he sang a few
songs,
pouring his whole soul into them, and the Master went into samadhi. A
few minutes later Sri Ramakrishna suddenly left his seat, took Narendra
by
the hand, and led him to the screened verandah north of his room. They
were alone. Addressing Narendra most tenderly, as if he were a friend
of
long acquaintance, the Master said: "Ah! You have come very late. Why
have you been so unkind as to make me wait all these days? My ears are
tired of hearing the futile words of worldly men. Oh, how I have longed
to pour my spirit into the heart of someone fitted to receive my
message!"
He talked thus, sobbing all the time. Then, standing before Narendra
with
folded hands, he addressed him as Narayana, born on earth to remove the
misery of humanity. Grasping Narendra's hand, he asked him to come
again,
alone, and very soon. Narendra was startled. "What is this I have come
to
see?" he said to himself. "He must be stark mad. Why, I am the son of
Viswanath Dutta. How dare he speak this way to me?"
When they returned to the room and Narendra heard the Master speaking
to others, he was surprised to find in his words an inner logic, a
striking
sincerity, and a convincing proof of his spiritual nature. In answer to
Narendra's question, "Sir, have you seen God?" the Master said: "Yes, I
have seen God. I have seen Him more tangibly than I see you. I have
talked to Him more intimately than I am talking to you." Continuing,
the
Master said: "But, my child, who wants to see God? People shed jugs of
tears for money, wife, and children. But if they would weep for God for
only one day they would surely see Him." Narendra was amazed. These
words he could not doubt. This was the first time he had ever heard a
man
saying that he had seen God. But he could not reconcile these words of
the
Master with the scene that had taken place on the verandah only a few
minutes before. He concluded that Sri Ramakrishna was a monomaniac,
and returned home rather puzzled in mind.
During his second visit, about a month later, suddenly, at the touch of
the Master, Narendra felt overwhelmed and saw the walls of the room and
everything around him whirling and vanishing. "What are you doing to
me?" he cried in terror. "I have my father and mother at home." He saw
his own ego and the whole universe almost swallowed in a nameless void.
With a laugh the Master easily restored him. Narendra thought he might
have been hypnotized, but he could not understand how a monomaniac
could cast a spell over the mind of a strong person like himself. He
returned
home more confused than ever, resolved to be henceforth on his guard
before
this strange man.
But during his third visit Narendra fared no better. This time, at the
Master's touch, he lost consciousness entirely. While he was still in
that
state, Sri Ramakrishna questioned him concerning his spiritual
antecedents
and whereabouts, his mission in this world, and the duration of his
mortal
life. The answers confirmed what the Master himself had known and
inferred.
Among other things, he came to know that Narendra was a sage
who had already attained perfection, and that the day he learnt his
real
nature he would give up his body in yoga, by an act of will.
A few more meetings completely removed from Narendra's mind the last
traces of the notion that Sri Ramakrishna might be a monomaniac or wily
hypnotist. His integrity, purity, renunciation, and unselfishness were
beyond
question. But Narendra could not accept a man, an imperfect mortal, as
his
guru. As a member of the Brahmo Samaj, he could not believe that a
human
intermediary was necessary between man and God. Moreover, he openly
laughed at Sri Ramakrishna's visions as hallucinations. Yet in the
secret
chamber of his heart he bore a great love for the Master.
Sri Ramakrishna was grateful to the Divine Mother for sending him one
who doubted his own realizations. Often he asked Narendra to test him
as
the money-changers test their coins. He laughed at Narendra's biting
criticism of his spiritual experiences and samadhi. When at times
Narendra's
sharp words distressed him, the Divine Mother Herself would console
him,
saying: "Why do you listen to him? In a few days he will believe your
every
word." He could hardly bear Narendra's absences. Often he would weep
bitterly for the sight of him. Sometimes Narendra would find the
Master's
love embarrassing; and one day he sharply scolded him, warning him that
such infatuation would soon draw him down to the level of its object.
The
Master was distressed and prayed to the Divine Mother. Then he said to
Narendra: "You rogue, I won't listen to you any more. Mother says that
I love you because I see God in you, and the day I no longer see God
in you I shall not be able to bear even the sight of you."
The Master wanted to train Narendra in the teachings of the
non-dualistic
Vedanta philosophy. But Narendra, because of his Brahmo upbringing,
considered it wholly blasphemous to look on man as one with his
Creator. One
day at the temple garden he laughingly said to a friend: "How silly!
This
jug is God! This cup is God! Whatever we see is God! And we too are
God! Nothing could be more absurd." Sri Ramakrishna came out of his
room and gently touched him. Spellbound, he immediately perceived that
everything in the world was indeed God. A new universe opened around
him. Returning home in a dazed state, he found there too that the food,
the
plate, the eater himself, the people around him, were all God. When he
walked in the street, he saw that the cabs, the horses, the streams of
people,
the buildings, were all Brahman. He could hardly go about his day's
business.
His parents became anxious about him and thought him ill. And when
the intensity of the experience abated a little, he saw the world as a
dream.
Walking in the public square, he would strike his head against the iron
railings to know whether they were real. It took him a number of days
to
recover his normal self. He had a foretaste of the great experiences
yet to
come and realized that the words of the Vedanta were true.
At the beginning of 1884 Narendra's father suddenly died of
heart-failure,
leaving the family in a state of utmost poverty. There were six or
seven
mouths to feed at home. Creditors were knocking at the door. Relatives
who
had accepted his father's unstinted kindness now became enemies, some
even
bringing suit to deprive Narendra of his ancestral home. Actually
starving
and barefoot, Narendra searched for a job, but without success. He
began to
doubt whether anywhere in the world there was such a thing as unselfish
sympathy. Two rich women made evil proposals to him and promised to
put an end to his distress; but he refused them with contempt.
Narendra began to talk of his doubt of the very existence of God. His
friends thought he had become an atheist, and piously circulated gossip
adducing unmentionable motives for his unbelief. His moral character
was
maligned. Even some of the Master's disciples partly believed the
gossip,
and Narendra told these to their faces that only a coward believed in
God
through fear of suffering or hell. But he was distressed to think that
Sri
Ramakrishna, too, might believe these false reports. His pride
revolted. He
said to himself: "What does it matter? If a man's good name rests on
such
slender foundations, I don't care." But later on he was amazed to learn
that
the Master had never lost faith in him. To a disciple who complained
about
Narendra's degradation, Sri Ramakrishna replied: "Hush, you fool! The
Mother has told me it can never be so. I won't look at you if you speak
that way again."
The moment came when Narendra's distress reached its climax. He had
gone the whole day without food. As he was returning home in the
evening
he could hardly lift his tired limbs. He sat down in front of a house
in sheer
exhaustion, too weak even to think. His mind began to wander. Then,
suddenly,
a divine power lifted the veil over his soul. He found the solution
of the problem of the coexistence of divine justice and misery, the
presence
of suffering in the creation of a blissful Providence. He felt bodily
refreshed,
his soul was bathed in peace, and he slept serenely.
Narendra now realized that he had a spiritual mission to fulfil. He
resolved to renounce the world, as his grandfather had renounced it,
and he
came to Sri Ramakrishna for his blessing. But even before he had opened
his mouth, the Master knew what was in his mind and wept bitterly at
the
thought of separation. "I know you cannot lead a worldly life," he
said,
"but for my sake live in the world as long as I live."
One day, soon after, Narendra requested Sri Ramakrishna to pray to the
Divine Mother to remove his poverty. Sri Ramakrishna bade him pray to
Her himself, for She would certainly listen to his prayer. Narendra
entered
the shrine of Kali. As he stood before the image of the Mother, he
beheld
Her as a living Goddess, ready to give wisdom and liberation. Unable to
ask Her for petty worldly things, he prayed only for knowledge and
renunciation,
love and liberation. The Master rebuked him for his failure to ask the
Divine Mother to remove his poverty and sent him back to the temple.
But
Narendra, standing in Her presence, again forgot the purpose of his
coming.
Thrice he went to the temple at the bidding of the Master, and thrice
he
returned, having forgotten in Her presence why he had come. He was
wondering about it when it suddenly flashed in his mind that this was
all the
work of Sri Ramakrishna; so now he asked the Master himself to remove
his poverty, and was assured that his family would not lack simple food
and
clothing.
This was a very rich and significant experience for Narendra. It taught
him that Sakti, the Divine Power, cannot be ignored in the world and
that in the relative plane the need of worshipping a Personal God is
imperative.
Sri Ramakrishna was overjoyed with the conversion. The next day,
sitting almost on Narendra's lap, he said to a devotee, pointing first
to
himself, then to Narendra: "I see I am this, and again that. Really I
feel no
difference. A stick floating in the Ganges seems to divide the water;
But in
reality the water is one. Do you see my point? Well, whatever is, is
the
Mother — isn't that so?" In later years Narendra would say: "Sri
Ramakrishna
was the only person who, from the time he met me, believed in me
uniformly throughout. Even my mother and brothers did not. It was his
unwavering trust and love for me that bound me to him for ever. He
alone
knew how to love. Worldly people, only make a show of love for selfish
ends."