Narendra's music — True renunciation — Study of scriptures for the beginner — Trailanga Swami and Bhaskarananda — The seer of God transcends good and evil — Seeing God in everything — Characteristics of divine love — Indications of God-realization — Efficacy of japa and prayer — Parable of the two friends — Zeal for the Lord destroys sin — Traits of bound souls — Two classes of perfect souls — The everperfect — Worldly people lack perseverance — Master consoles a bereaved father — Difficulty of overcoming vanity — Different manifestations of divine power — Free will and God's will.
Saturday, April 7, 1883
SRI RAMAKRISHNA was visiting Balaram
in Calcutta, with Narendra,
Bhavanath, Rakhal, M., and others. Balaram, at the Master's bidding,
had invited some of the young devotees to lunch. Sri Ramakrishna
often said to him, "Feed them now and then; that will confer on you the
merit of feeding holy men." The Master looked on his young disciples,
yet
untouched by "woman and gold", as veritable embodiments of God.
A few days earlier Sri Ramakrishna had been to Keshab's house with
Narendra and Rakhal to see a performance of the play entitled
Nava-Vrindavan. Narendra had taken part in the
performance, in which Keshab
had played the role of Pavhari Baba.
MASTER: "Keshab came on the stage in the role of a holy man and
sprinkled the 'Water of Peace'. But I didn't like it. The idea of
sprinkling
such water on a theatrical stage after a performance!
"Another gentleman played the part of Sin. That is not good either. One
should not commit sin; one should not even feign it."
The Master wanted to hear Narendra sing. The young disciple was not
feeling well, but at the Master's earnest request he sang to the
accompaniment
of the tanpura:
Sing, O bird that nestles deep within my heart!
Sing, O bird that sits on the Kalpa-Tree of Brahman!
Sing God's everlasting praise. . . .
Then he sang:
Brahman, Joy of the whole universe, Supreme Effulgence;
God beginningless. Lord of the world, the very Life of life! . . .
And again:
O King of Kings, reveal Thyself to me!
I crave Thy mercy. Cast on me Thy glance!
At Thy dear feet I dedicate my life,
Seared in the fiery furnace of this world.
My heart, alas, is deeply stained with sin;
Ensnared in maya, I am all but dead.
Compassionate Lord! Revive my fainting soul
With the life-giving nectar of Thy grace.
Narendra continued:
Upon the tray of the sky blaze bright
The lamps of sun and moon;
Like diamonds shine the glittering stars
To deck Thy wondrous form.
The sweet Malaya breeze blows soft,
For fragrant incense smoke;
The moving air sways to and fro
The fan before Thy holy face;
Like gleaming votive lights
The fresh and flowery groves appear.
How wonderful Thy worship is,
O Slayer of birth and death!
The sacred Om, from space arisen,
Is the resounding drum.
My mind craves nectar day and night
At Hari's Lotus Feet;
Oh, shower the waters of Thy grace
On thirsty Nanak, blessed Lord;
And may Thy hallowed name
Become his everlasting home!
He sang again:
In Wisdom's firmament the moon of Love is rising full,
And Love's flood-tide, in surging waves, is flowing everywhere.
O Lord, how full of bliss Thou art! Victory unto Thee! . . .
Then at the Master's bidding Bhavanath sang:
Where is a friend like Thee, O Essence of Mercy?
Where is another friend like Thee
To stand by me through pain and pleasure?
Who, among all my friends, forgives my failings,
Bringing me comfort for my grief,
Soothing my spirit in its terror?
Thou art the Helmsman who dost steer life's craft
Across the world's perilous sea;
Thy grace it is alone, O Lord,
That silences my raging passions' storm.
Thou pourest out the waters of peace
Upon my burning, penitent soul;
And Thine is the bosom that will shelter me
When every other friend I own
Deserts me in my dying hour.
Narendra said to the Master with a smile, referring to
Bhavanath, "He
has given up fish and betel-leaf." ( Hindu religious
aspirants often renounce these, since they are considered luxuries
detrimental to spiritual progress.)
MASTER: "Why so? What is the matter with fish and betel-leaf? They
aren't harmful. The renunciation of 'woman and gold' is the true
renunciation.
"Where is Rakhal?"
A DEVOTEE: "He is asleep, sir."
MASTER (with a smile): "Once a man went to a certain
place to see a
theatrical performance, carrying a mat under his arm. Hearing that it
would
be some time before the performance began, he spread the mat on the
floor
and fell asleep. When he woke up it was all over. (All laugh.)
Then he
returned home with the mat under his arm."
Ramdayal was very ill and lay in bed in another room. The Master went
there to inquire about him.
About four o'clock in the afternoon some members of the Brahmo Samaj
arrived. The Master began to converse with them.
A BRAHMO: "Sir, have you read the Panchadasi?"
MASTER: "At first one should hear books like that and indulge in
reasoning.
But later on —
Cherish my precious Mother Syama
Tenderly within, O mind;
May you and I alone behold Her,
Letting no one else intrude.
"One should hear the scriptures during the early stages of
spiritual discipline.
After attaining God there is no lack of knowledge. Then the Divine
Mother supplies it without fail.
"A child spells out every word as he writes, but later on he writes
fluently.
"The goldsmith is up and doing while melting gold. As long as the gold
hasn't melted, he works the bellows with one hand, moves the fan with
the other, and blows through a pipe with his mouth. But the moment the
gold melts and is poured into the mould, he is relieved of all anxiety.
"Mere reading of the scriptures is not enough. A person cannot
understand
the true significance of the scriptures if he is attached to the world.
Though with intense delight I learnt many poems and dramas,
I have forgotten them all, entrapped in Krishna's love.
"Keshab enjoys the world and practises yoga as well. Living in
the world,
he directs his mind to God."
A devotee described the Convocation of Calcutta University, saying that
the meeting looked like a forest of human heads.
MASTER: "The feeling of the Divine is awakened in me when I see a
great crowd of people. Had I seen that meeting, I should have been
over-
whelmed with spiritual fervour."
Sunday, April 8, 1883
It was Sunday morning. The Master, looking like a boy, was
seated in
his room, and near him was another boy, his beloved disciple Rakhal. M.
entered and saluted the Master. Ramlal also was in the room, and
Kishori,
Manilal Mallick, and several other devotees gathered by and by.
Manilal Mallick, a business man, had recently been to Benares, where
he owned a bungalow.
MASTER: "So you have been to Benares. Did you see any holy men there?"
MANILAL: "Yes, sir. I paid my respects to Trailanga Swami,
Bhaskarananda,
and others."
MASTER: "Tell us something about them."
MANILAL: "Trailanga Swami is living in the same temple where he lived
before — on the Manikarnika Ghat, near the Benimadhav Minaret. People
say he was formerly in a more exalted spiritual state. He could perform
many miracles. Now he has lost much of that power."
MASTER: "That is the criticism of worldly people."
MANILAL: "Trailanga Swami keeps a strict vow of silence. Unlike him,
Bhaskarananda is friendly with all."
MASTER: "Did you have any conversation with Bhaskarananda?"
MANILAL: "Yes, sir. We had a long talk. Among other things we discussed
the problem of good and evil. He said to me: 'Don't follow the path of
evil.
Give up sinful thoughts. That is how God wants us to act. Perform only
those duties that are virtuous.'"
MASTER: "Yes, that is also a path, meant for worldly-minded people. But
those whose spiritual consciousness has been awakened, who have
realized
that God alone is real and all else illusory, cherish a different
ideal. They
are aware that God alone is the Doer and others are His instruments.
"Those whose spiritual consciousness has been awakened never make a
false step. They do not have to reason in order to shun evil. They are
so
full of love of God that whatever action they undertake is a good
action.
They are fully conscious that they are not the doers of their actions,
but
mere servants of God. They always feel: 'I am the machine and He is the
Operator. I do as He does through me. I speak as He speaks through me.
I
move as He moves me.'
"Fully awakened souls are beyond virtue and vice. They realize that it
is
God who does everything.
"There was a monastery in a certain place. The monks residing there
went out daily to beg their food. One day a monk, while out for his
alms,
saw a landlord beating a man mercilessly. The compassionate monk
stepped
in and asked the landlord to stop. But the landlord was filled with
anger and
turned his wrath against the innocent monk. He beat the monk till he
fell
unconscious on the ground. Someone reported the matter to the
monastery.
The monks ran to the spot and found their brother lying there. Four or
five
of them carried him back and laid him on a bed. He was still
unconscious.
The other monks sat around him sad at heart; some were fanning him.
Finally someone suggested that he should be given a little milk to
drink.
When it was poured into his mouth he regained consciousness. He opened
his eyes and looked around. One of the monks said, 'Let us see whether
he
is fully conscious and can recognize us.' Shouting into his ear, he
said,
'Revered sir, who is giving you milk?' 'Brother,' replied the holy man
in a
low voice, 'He who beat me is now giving me milk.'
"But one does not attain such a state of mind without the realization
of
God."
MANILAL: "Sir, what you have just said applies to a man of a very lofty
spiritual state. I talked on such topics in a general way with
Bhaskarananda."
MASTER: "Does he live in a house?"
MANILAL: "Yes, sir. He lives with a devotee."
MASTER: "How old is he now?"
MANILAL: "About fifty-five."
MASTER: "Did you talk about anything else?"
MANILAL: "I asked him how to cultivate bhakti. He said: 'Chant the
name of God. Repeat the name of Rama.'"
MASTER: "That is very good."
The worship was over in the temples and the bells rang for the food
offerings in the shrines. As it was a summer noon the sun was very hot.
The
flood-tide began in the Ganges and a breeze came up from the south. Sri
Ramakrishna was resting in his room after his meal.
The people of Basirhat, Rakhal's birth-place, had been suffering from a
severe drought during the summer months.
MASTER (to Manilal): "Rakhal says that the people in
his native village
have been suffering seriously from a scarcity of water. Why don't you
build
a reservoir there? That will do the people good. (Smiling)
You have so
much money; what will you do with all your wealth? But they say that
telis
(The oil-man caste to which Manilal belonged. It is a comparatively low
caste in
Hindu society in Bengal.) are very calculating." (All laugh.)
Manilal was truly a calculating man, though he suffered no lack of
money.
In later years he set up an endowment of twenty-five thousand rupees
for
the maintenance of poor students.
Manilal made no answer to these words of the Master about his caste
characteristics. Later on, in the course of the conversation, he
remarked
casually: "Sir, you referred to a reservoir. You might as well have
confined
yourself to that suggestion. Why allude to the 'oil-man caste' and all
that?"
Some of the devotees smiled to themselves. The Master laughed.
Presently a few elderly members of the Brahmo Samaj arrived. The room
was full of devotees. Sri Ramakrishna was sitting on his bed, facing
the
north. He kept smiling, and talked to the Brahmo devotees in a joyous
mood.
MASTER: "You talk glibly about prema. But is it such a commonplace
thing? There are two characteristics of prema. First, it makes one
forget the
world. So intense is one's love of God that one becomes unconscious of
outer things. Chaitanya had this ecstatic love; he 'took a wood for the
sacred
grove of Vrindavan and the ocean for the dark waters of the Jamuna'.
Second, one has no feeling of 'my-ness' toward the body, which is so
dear
to man. One wholly gets rid of the feeling that the body is the soul.
"There are certain signs of God-realization. The man in whom longing
for God manifests its glories is not far from attaining Him. What are
the
glories of that longing? They are discrimination, dispassion,
compassion for
living beings, serving holy men, loving their company, chanting the
name
and glories of God, telling the truth, and the like. When you see those
signs
of longing in an aspirant, you can rightly say that for him the vision
of
God is not far to seek.
"The state of a servant's house will tell you unmistakably whether his
master has decided to visit it. First, the rubbish and jungle around
the house
are cleared up. Second, the soot and dirt are removed from the rooms.
Third,
the courtyard, floors, and other places are swept clean. Finally the
master
himself sends various things to the house, such as a carpet, a
hubble-bubble
for smoking, and the like. When you see these things arriving, you
conclude
that the master will very soon come."
A DEVOTEE: "Sir, should one first practise discrimination to attain
self-control?"
MASTER: "That is also a path. It is called the path of vichara,
reasoning.
But the inner organs (Mind (manas), intelligence (buddhi),
mind-stuff (chitta), and ego (ahamkara).)
are brought under control naturally through the path
of devotion as well. It is rather easily accomplished that way. Sense
pleasures
appear more and more tasteless as love for God grows. Can carnal
pleasure
attract a grief-stricken man and woman the day their child has died?"
DEVOTEE: "How can I develop love for God?"
MASTER: "Repeat His name, and sins will disappear. Thus you will
destroy
lust, anger, the desire for creature comforts, and so on."
DEVOTEE: "How can I take delight in God's name?"
MASTER: "Pray to God with a yearning heart that you may take delight
in His name. He will certainly fulfil your heart's desire."
So saying, the Master sang a song in his sweet voice, pleading with the
Divine Mother to show Her grace to suffering men:
O Mother, I have no one else to blame:
Alas! I sink in the well these very hands have dug.
With the six passions tor my spade,
I dug a pit in the sacred land of earth;
And now the dark water of death gushes forth!
How can I save myself, O my Redeemer?
Surely I have been my own enemy;
How can I now ward off this dark water of death?
Behold, the waters rise to my chest!
How can I save myself? O Mother, save me!
Thou art my only Refuge; with Thy protecting glance
Take me across to the other shore of the world.
The Master sang again:
What a delirious fever is this that I suffer from!
O Mother, Thy grace is my only cure.
False pride is the fever that racks my wasted form;
"I" and "mine" are my cry. Oh, what a wicked delusion!
My quenchless thirst for wealth and friends is never-ceasing;
How, then, shall I sustain my life?
Talk about things unreal, this is my wretched delirium,
And I indulge in it always, O Giver of all good fortune!
My eyes in seeming sleep are closed, my stomach is filled
With the vile worms of cruelty.
Alas! I wander about absorbed in unmeaning deeds;
Even for Thy holy name I have no taste, O Mother!
I doubt that I shall ever be cured of this malady.
Then the Master said: "'Even for Thy holy name I have no
taste.' A
typhoid patient has very little chance of recovery if he loses all
taste for food;
but his life need not be despaired of if he enjoys food even a little.
That is
why one should cultivate a taste for God's name. Any name will do —
Durga, Krishna, or Siva. Then if, through the chanting of the name,
one's
attachment to God grows day by day, and joy fills the soul, one has
nothing
to fear. The delirium will certainly disappear; the grace of God will
certainly
descend.
"'As is a man's feeling of love, so is his gain.' Once two friends were
going along the street, when they saw some people listening to a
reading of
the Bhagavata. 'Come, friend', said the one to the
other. 'Let us hear the
sacred book.' So saying he went in and sat down. The second man peeped
in and went away. He entered a house of ill fame. But very soon he felt
disgusted with the place. 'Shame on me!' he said to himself. 'My friend
has
been listening to the sacred word of Hari; and see where I am!' But the
friend
who had been listening to the Bhagavata also became
disgusted. 'What a fool
I am!' he said. 'I have been listening to this fellow's blah-blah, and
my
friend is having a grand time.' In course of time they both died. The
messenger of Death came for the soul of the one who had listened to the
Bhagavata and dragged it off to hell. The messenger
of God came for the
soul of the one who had been to the house of prostitution and led it up
to
heaven.
Verily, the Lord looks into a man's heart and does not judge him by
what he does or where he lives. 'Krishna accepts a devotee's inner
feeling
of love.'
In the Kartabhaja sect, the teacher, while giving initiation, says to
the
disciple, 'Now everything depends on your mind.' According to this
sect,
'He who has the right mind finds the right way and also achieves the
right
end,' It was through the power of his mind that Hanuman leapt over the
sea. 'I am the servant of Rama; I have repeated the holy name of Rama.
Is
there anything impossible for me?' — that was Hanuman's faith.
"Ignorance lasts as long as one has ego. There can be no liberation so
long as the ego remains. 'O God, Thou art the Doer and not I' — that is
knowledge.
"By being lowly one can rise high. The chatak bird makes its nest on
low
ground, but it soars very high in the sky. Cultivation is not possible
on
high land; in low land water accumulates and makes cultivation
possible.
One must take the trouble to seek the company of holy persons. In his
own home a man hears only worldly talk; the disease of worldliness has
become chronic with him. The caged parrot sitting on its perch repeats,
"Rama! Rama!' But let it fly to the forest and it will squawk in its
usual way.
"Mere possession of money doesn't make a nobleman. One sign of the
mansion of a nobleman is that all the rooms are lighted. The poor
cannot
afford much oil, and consequently cannot have so many lights. This
shrine
of the body should not be left dark; one should illumine it with the
lamp
of Wisdom.
Lighting the lamp of Knowledge in the chamber of your heart,
Behold the face of the Mother, Brahman's Embodiment.
"Everyone can attain Knowledge. There are two entities:
jivatma, the
individual soul, and Paramatma, the Supreme Soul. Through prayer all
individual souls can be united to the Supreme Soul. Every house has a
connection for gas, and gas can be obtained from the main storage-tank
of
the Gas Company. Apply to the Company, and it will arrange for your
supply of gas. Then your house will be lighted.
"In some people spiritual consciousness has already been awakened; but
they have special marks. They do not enjoy hearing or talking about
anything
but God. They are like the chatak, which prays for rain-water though
the seven oceans, the Ganges, the Jamuna, and the rivers near it are
all
filled with water. It won't drink anything but rain-water, even though
its
throat is burning with thirst."
The Master wanted to hear a few songs. Ramlal and a brahmin official
of the temple garden sang:
Dwell, O Lord, O Lover of bhakti,
In the Vrindavan of my heart,
And my devotion unto Thee
Will be Thy Radha, dearly loved. . . .
And again:
The dark cloud of the summer storm fades
into nothingness,
When, flute in hand and a smile on His lips,
Lighting the world with His loveliness,
Krishna, the Dark One, appears.
His dazzling yellow robe outgleams even the lightning's glare;
A wreath of wild-flowers interwoven
Gently swings from His youthful breast
And softly kisses His feet.
See, there He stands, the Lord of life, the Moon of Nanda's line,
Outshining all the moons in heaven
And with the splendour of His rays
Flooding the Jamuna's bank!
He stands there, stealing the maidens' hearts; He lures them from
hearth and home.
Krishna enters my own heart's shrine,
And with His flute-note steals away
My wisdom, life, and soul,
To whom shall Ganga Narayana pour out his tale of woe?
Ah, friend, you might have understood
Had you but gone to the Jamuna's bank
To fill your water-jar!
Again they sang:
High in the heaven of the Mother's feet,
my mind was soaring like a kite,
When came a blast of sin's rough wind that drove it swiftly toward the
earth. . . .
MASTER (to the devotees): "As the tiger
devours other animals, so does
the 'tiger of zeal for the Lord' eat up lust, anger, and the other
passions.
Once this zeal grows in the heart, lust and the other passions
disappear.
The gopis of Vrindavan had that state of mind because of their zeal for
Krishna.
"Again, this zeal for God is compared to collyrium. Radha said to her
friends, 'I see Krishna everywhere.' They replied, 'Friend, you have
painted
your eyes with the collyrium of love; that is why you see Krishna
everywhere.'
"They say that when your eyes are painted with collyrium made from
the ashes of a frog's head you see snakes everywhere.
"They are indeed bound souls who constantly dwell with 'woman and
gold' and do not think of God even for a moment. How can you expect
noble deeds of them? They are like mangoes pecked by a crow, which may
not be offered to the Deity in the temple, and which even men hesitate
to eat.
"Bound souls, worldly people, are like silk-worms. The worms can cut
through their cocoons if they want, but having woven the cocoons
themselves, they are too much attached to them to leave them. And so
they
die there.
"Free souls are not under the control of 'woman and gold'. There are
some silk-worms that cut through the cocoon they have made with such
great
care. But they are few and far between.
"It is maya that deludes. Only a few become spiritually awakened and
are not deluded by the spell of maya. They do not come under the
control
of 'woman and gold'.
"There are two classes of perfect souls: those who attain perfection
through spiritual practice, and those who attain it through the grace
of God.
Some farmers irrigate their fields with great labour. Only then can
they
grow crops. But there are some who do not have to irrigate at all;
their fields
are flooded by rain. They don't have to go to the trouble of drawing
water.
One must practise spiritual discipline laboriously, in order to avoid
the
clutches of maya. Those who attain liberation through the grace of God
do
not have to labour. But they are few indeed.
"Then there is the class of the ever-perfect. They are born in each
life
with their spiritual consciousness already awakened. Think of a spring
whose outlet is obstructed. While looking after various things in the
garden,
the plumber accidentally clears it and the water gushes out. Yet people
are
amazed to see the first manifestations of an ever-perfect soul's zeal
for God.
They say, 'Where was all this devotion and renunciation and love?'"
The conversation turned to the spiritual zeal of devotees, as
illustrated
in the earnestness of the gopis of Vrindavan. Ramlal sang:
Thou art my All in All, O Lord! — the Life of my life, the Essence of
essence;
In the three worlds I have none else but Thee to call my own.
Thou art my peace, my joy, my hope; Thou my support, my • wealth, my
glory;
Thou my wisdom and my strength.
Thou art my home, my place of rest; my dearest friend, my next of kin;
My present and my future, Thou; my heaven and my salvation.
Thou art my scriptures, my commandments; Thou art my ever gracious Guru;
Thou the Spring of my boundless bliss.
Thou art the Way, and Thou the Goal; Thou the Adorable One, O Lord!
Thou art the Mother tender-hearted; Thou the chastising Father;
Thou the Creator and Protector; Thou the Helmsman who dost steer
My craft across the sea of life.
MASTER (to the devotees): "Ah! What a
beautiful song! — 'Thou art my
All in All.'"
Ramlal sang again, this time describing the pangs of the gopis on being
separated from their beloved Krishna:1
Hold not, hold not the chariot's wheels!
Is it the wheels that make it move?
The Mover of its wheels is Krishna,
By whose will the worlds are moved. . . .
The Master went into deep samadhi. His body was motionless; he
sat with
folded hands as in his photograph. Tears of joy flowed from the corners
of
his eyes. After a long time his mind came down to the ordinary plane of
consciousness. He mumbled something, of which only a word now and then
could be heard by the devotees in the room. He was saying: "Thou art I,
and I am Thou — Thou eatest — Thou — I eat! . . . What is this
confusion
Thou hast created?"
Continuing, the Master said: "I see everything like a man with
jaundiced
eyes! I see Thee alone everywhere. O Krishna, Friend of the lowly! O
Eternal
Consort of my soul! O Govinda!"
As he uttered the words "Eternal Consort of my soul" and "Govinda",
the Master again went into samadhi. There was complete silence in the
room. The eager and unsatiated eyes of the devotees were fixed on the
Master, a God-man of infinite moods.
Adhar Sen arrived with several of his friends. He was a deputy
magistrate,
about thirty years old. This was his second visit to the Master. He was
accompanied by his friend Saradacharan, who was extremely unhappy
because of the death of his eldest son. A retired deputy inspector of
schools,
Saradacharan devoted himself to meditation and prayer. Adhar had
brought
his friend to the Master for consolation in his afflicted state of mind.
Coming down from samadhi, the Master found the eyes of the devotees
fixed on him. He muttered to himself, still in an abstracted mood.
Then, addressing the devotees, Sri Ramakrishna said: "The spiritual
wisdom of worldly people is seen only on rare occasions. It is like the
flame
of a candle. No, it is rather like a single ray of the sun passing
through a
chink in a wall. Worldly people chant the name of God, but there is no
zeal behind it. It is like children's swearing by God, having learnt
the word
from the quarrels of their aunts.
"Worldly people have no grit. If they succeed in an undertaking, it is
all
right, but if they don't succeed, it scarcely bothers them at all. When
they
need water they begin to dig a well. But as soon as they strike a stone
they
give up digging there and begin at another place. Perhaps they come to
a
bed of sand. Finding nothing but sand, they give that place up too. How
can they succeed in getting water unless they continue to dig
persistently
where they started?
"Man reaps the harvest of his own past actions. Hence you read in the
song:
O Mother, I have no one else to blame:
Alas! I sink in the well these very hands have dug.
"'I' and 'mine' — that is ignorance. By discriminating you
will realize that
what you call 'I' is really nothing but Atman. Reason it out. Are you
the
body or the flesh or something else? At the end you will know that you
are
none of these. You are free from attributes. Then you will realize that
you
have never been the doer of any action, that you have been free from
virtue
and faults alike, that you are beyond righteousness and unrighteousness.
"From ignorance a man says, 'This is gold and this is brass.' But a man
of
Knowledge says, 'It is all gold.'
"Reasoning stops when one sees God. But there are instances of people
who have realized God and who still continue to reason. Again, there
are
people who, even after having seen God, chant His name with devotion
and sing His glories.
"How long does a child cry? So long as it is not sucking at its
mother's
breast. As soon as it is nursed it stops crying. Then the child feels
only joy.
Joyously it drinks the milk from its mother's breast. But it is also
true that,
while drinking, the child sometimes plays and laughs.
"It is God alone who has become everything. But in man He manifests
Himself the most. God is directly present in the man who has the pure
heart
of a child and who laughs and cries and dances and sings in divine
ecstasy."
By this time Sri Ramakrishna had become better acquainted with Adhar,
who related the cause of his friend's grief. The Master sang, as if to
himself:
To arms! To arms, O man! Death storms your house in battle array!
Bearing the quiver of knowledge, mount the chariot of devotion;
Bend the bow of your tongue with the bow-string of love.
And aim at him the shaft of Mother Kali's holy name.
Here is a ruse for the fray: You need no chariot or charioteer;
Fight your toe from the Ganges' bank, and he is easily slain.
Then he said: "What can you do? Be ready for Death. Death has
entered
the house. You must fight him with the weapon of God's holy name; God
alone is the Doer. I say: 'O Lord, I do as Thou doest through me. I
speak
as Thou speakest through me. I am the machine and Thou art the
Operator.
I am the house and Thou art the Indweller. I am the engine and Thou art
the Engineer.' Give your power of attorney to God. One doesn't come to
grief through letting a good man assume one's responsibilities. Let His
will
be done.
"But isn't your grief for your son only natural? The son is one's own
self
reborn. Lakshmana ran to Ravana when the latter fell dead on the
battle-field.
Looking at Ravana's body, he found that every one of his bones was
full of holes. Thereupon he said to Rama: 'O Rama, glory be to Your
arrows! There is no spot in Ravana's body that they have not pierced.'
'Brother,' replied Rama, 'the holes you see in his bones are not from
My
arrows. Grief for his sons has pierced them through and through. These
holes are the marks of his grief. It has penetrated his very bones.'
"But house, wife, and children are all transitory; they have only a
momentary
existence. The palm-tree alone is-real. One or two fruits have dropped
off. Why lament?
"God is engaged in three kinds of activity: creation, preservation, and
destruction. Death is inevitable. All will be destroyed at the time of
dissolution.
Nothing will remain. At that time the Divine Mother will gather up
the seeds for the future creation, even as the elderly mistress of the
house
keeps in her hotchpotch-pot little bags of cucumber seeds, 'sea-foam',
blue
pills, and other miscellaneous things. The Divine Mother will take Her
seeds
out again at the time of the new creation."
Sri Ramakrishna began to talk with Adhar on the verandah north of his
room.
MASTER (to Adhar): "You are a deputy magistrate.
Remember that you
have obtained your position through the grace of God. Do not forget
Him,
but remember that all men must one day walk down the same path.2
We stay in the world only a couple of days.
"This world is our field of activity. We are born here to perform
certain
duties. People have their homes in the country but come to Calcutta to
work,
"It is necessary to do a certain amount of work. This is a kind of
discipline.
But one must finish it speedily. While melting gold, the goldsmith uses
everything — the bellows, the fan, and the pipe — so that he may have
the
hot fire he needs to melt the metal. After the melting is over, he
relaxes and
asks his attendant to prepare a smoke for him. All this time his face
has
been hot and perspiring; but now he can smoke.
"One must have stern determination; then alone is spiritual practice
possible. One must make a firm resolve.
"There is great power in the seed of God's name. It destroys ignorance.
A
seed is tender, and the sprout soft; still it pierces the hard ground.
The
ground breaks and makes way for the sprout.
"The mind becomes very much distracted if one lives long in the midst
of 'woman and gold'. Therefore one must be very careful. But monks do
not
have much to fear. The real sannyasi lives away from 'woman and gold'.
Therefore through the practice of spiritual discipline he can always
fix his
mind on God.
"True sannyasis, those who are able to devote their minds constantly to
God, are like bees, which light only on flowers and sip their honey.
Those
who live in the world, in the midst of 'woman and gold', may direct
their
attention to God; but sometimes their minds dwell also on 'woman and
gold'.
They are like common flies, which light on a piece of candy, then on a
sore
or filth.
"Always keep your mind fixed on God. In the beginning you must struggle
a little; later on you will enjoy your pension."
Sunday, April 15, 1883
Surendra, a beloved lay disciple of the Master, had invited
him to his
house on the auspicious occasion of the Annapurna Puja. It was about
six
o'clock when Sri Ramakrishna arrived there with some of his devotees.
The
image of the Divine Mother had been installed in the worship hall. At
Her
feet lay hibiscus flowers and vilwa-leaves; from Her neck hung a
garland of
flowers. Sri Ramakrishna entered the hall and bowed down before the
image. Then he went to the open courtyard, where he sat on a carpet,
surrounded by his devotees and disciples. A few bolsters lay on the
carpet,
which was covered with a white linen sheet. He was asked to lean
against
one of these, but he pushed it aside.
MASTER (to the devotees): "To lean
against a bolster!" (Rich and
aristocratic persons seeking comfort generally sit in this fashion.)
You see, it is very
difficult to give up vanity. You may discriminate, saving that the ego
is
nothing at all; but still it comes, nobody knows from where. A goat's
legs
jerk for a few moments even after its head has been cut off. Or perhaps
you
are frightened in a dream; you shake off sleep and are wide awake, but
still you feel your heart palpitating. Egotism is exactly like that.
You may
drive it away, but still it appears from somewhere. Then you look
sullen
and say: 'What! I have not been shown proper respect!'"
KEDAR: "'One should be lowlier than a straw and patient as a tree.'"
MASTER: "As for me, I consider myself as a speck of the dust of the
devotee's feet."
Vaidyanath arrived. He was a well-educated man, a lawyer of the High
Court of Calcutta. With folded hands he saluted the Master and took his
seat at one side.
SURENDRA (to the Master): "He is one of my
relatives."
MASTER: "Yes, I see he has a nice nature."
SURENDRA: "He has come here because he wants to ask you a question
or two."
MASTER (to Vaidyanath): "All that you see is the
manifestation of God's
Power. No one can do anything without this Power. But you must remember
that there is not an equal manifestation of God's Power in all things.
Vidyasagar once asked me whether God endowed some with greater power
than others. I said to him; 'If there are no greater and lesser
manifestations
of His Power, then why have we taken the trouble to visit you? Have you
grown two horns?' So it stands to reason that God exists in all beings
as the
All-pervasive Power; but the manifestations of His Power are different
in
different beings."
VAIDYANATH: "Sir, I have a doubt. People speak of free will. They say
that a man can do either good or evil according to his will. Is it
true? Are we
really free to do whatever we like?"
MASTER: "Everything depends on the will of God. The world is His play.
He has created all these different things — great and small, strong and
weak,
good and bad, virtuous and vicious. This is all His maya, His sport.
You
must have observed that all the trees in a garden are not of the same
kind.
"As long as a man has not realized God, he thinks he is free. It is God
Himself who keeps this error in man. Otherwise sin would have
multiplied.
Man would not have been afraid of sin, and there would have been no
punishment for it.
"But do you know the attitude of one who has realized God? He feels:
'I am the machine, and Thou, O Lord, art the Operator. I am the house
and Thou art the Indweller. I am the chariot and Thou art the Driver. I
move as Thou movest me; I speak as Thou makest me speak.'
(To Vaidyanath): "It is not good to argue. Isn't
that so?"
VAIDYANATH: "Yes, sir. The desire to argue disappears when a man
attains wisdom."
The Master, out of his stock of a dozen English words, said, "Thank
you!" in the most charming way, and all laughed.
MASTER (to Vaidyanath): "You will make spiritual
progress. People don't
trust a man when he. speaks about God. Even if a great soul affirms
that he
has seen God, still the average person will not accept his words. He
says to
himself, 'If this man has really seen God, then let him show Him to
me.'
But can a man learn to feel a person's pulse in one day? He must go
about
with a physician for many days; only then can he distinguish the
different
pulses. He must be in the company of those with whom the examination of
the pulse has become a regular profession.
"Can anyone and everyone pick out a yarn of a particular count? If you
are in that trade, you can distinguish in a moment a forty-count thread
from a forty-one."
The kirtan was about to begin. Some Vaishnavas were seated on one side
with their mridangas and cymbals. A drummer began to play on his
instrument
preparatory to the singing. The sweet and melodious sound of the
mridanga filled the courtyard, calling to mind the ecstatic kirtan of
Sri
Gauranga. The Master passed into a deep spiritual state. Now and then
he
looked at the drummer and said, "Ah! Ah! My hair is all standing on
end."
The singers asked what kind of song they should sing. The Master said
humbly, "Something about Gauranga, if you please."
The kirtan began. They sang about the celestial beauty of Sri Gauranga:
The beauty of Gauranga's face
Glows brighter than the brightest gold;
His smile illumines all the world.
Who cares for even a million moons
Shining in the blue autumn sky?
The chief musician added improvised lines as they sang: "O
friend, his
face shines like the full moon!" "But it does not wane nor has it any
stain."
"It illumines the devotee's heart." Again he improvised: "His face is
bathed
with the essence of a million moons."
At these words the Master went into deep samadhi. After a short while
he regained consciousness of the sense world. Then he suddenly stood
up,
overpowered by his spiritual mood, and sang improvised lines with the
professionals, thinking himself to be a milkmaid of Vrindavan gone mad
with
the beauty of Sri Krishna's form: "Whose fault is it — my mind's or His
beauty's?" "In the three worlds I see nothing but my beloved Krishna."
The Master danced and sang. All remained spellbound as they watched.
The chief musician sang the words of a gopi: "O flute, pray stop. Can
you
not go to sleep?" One of the musicians added a new line: "How can it
sleep?
It rests on Krishna's lips."
The Master sat down. The music went on. They sang, assuming the
mood of Radha: "My eyes are blinded. My ears are deaf. I have lost the
power of smell. All my senses are paralysed. But, alas, why am I left
alone?"
Finally the musicians sang of the union of Radha and Krishna:
Radha and Krishna are joined at last in the Nidhu Grove of Vrindavan;
Incomparable their beauty, and limitless their love!
The one half shines like yellow gold, the other like bluest sapphire;
Round the neck, on one side, a wild-flower garland hangs,
And, on the other, there swings a necklace of precious gems.
A ring of gold adorns one ear, a ring of shell the other;
Half of the brow is bright as the blazing midday sun,
The other softly gleams with the glow of the rising moon.
Upon one half of the head a graceful peacock feather stands,
And, from the other half, there hangs a braid of hair.
As the music came to a close the Master said, "Bhagavata —
Bhakta —
Bhagavan", and bowed low to the devotees seated on all sides. He
touched
with his forehead the ground made holy by the singing of the sacred
music.
It was now about half past nine in the evening. Surendra entertained
the
Master and the devotees with a sumptuous feast. When it was time to
take
leave of their host, the Master, the devotees, and Surendra entered the
worship hall and stood before the image.
SURENDRA (to the Master): "No one has sung anything
about the Divine
Mother today."
MASTER (pointing to the image): "Ah! Look at the
beauty of the hall.
The light of the Divine Mother seems to have lighted the whole place.
Such
a sight fills the heart with joy. Grief and desire for pleasure
disappear.
"But can one not see God as formless Reality? Of course one can. But
not if one has the slightest trace of worldliness. The rishis of olden
times
renounced everything and then contemplated Satchidananda, the
Indivisible
Brahman.
"The Brahmajnanis of modern times (A reference to
the members of the Brahmo Samaj.) sing of God as 'immutable,
homogeneous'.
It sounds very dry to me. It seems as if the singers themselves don't
enjoy the sweetness of God's Bliss, One doesn't want a refreshing drink
made
with sugar candy if one is satisfied with mere coarse treacle.
"Just see how happy you are, looking at this image of the Deity. But
those who always cry after the formless Reality do not get anything.
They
realize nothing either inside or outside."
The Master sang a song to the Divine Mother:
O Mother, ever blissful as Thou art,
Do not deprive Thy worthless child of bliss!
My mind knows nothing but Thy Lotus Feet.
The King of Death scowls at me terribly;
Tell me, Mother, what shall I say to him?
It was my heart's desire to sail my boat
Across the ocean of this mortal life,
O Durga, with Thy name upon my lips.
I never dreamt that Thou wouldst drown me here
In the dark waters of this shoreless sea.
Both day and night I swim among its waves,
Chanting Thy saving name; yet even so
There is no end, O Mother, to my grief.
It I am drowned this time, in such a plight,
No one will ever chant Thy name again.
Again he sang:
Repeat, O mind, my Mother Durga's hallowed name.
Whoever treads the path, repeating "Durga! Durga!",
Siva Himself protects with His almighty trident.
Thou art the day, O Mother! Thou art the dusk and the night.
Sometimes Thou are man, and sometimes woman art Thou.
Thou mayest even say to me: "Step aside! Go away!"
Yet I shall cling to Thee, O Durga! Unto Thy feet
As Thine anklets I shall cling, making their tinkling sound.
Mother, when as the Kite3
Thou soarest in the sky,
There, in the water beneath, as a minnow I shall be swimming;
Upon me Thou wilt pounce, and pierce me through with Thy claws.
Thus, when the breath of life forsakes me in Thy grip,
Do not deny me the shelter of Thy Lotus Feet!
The Master saluted the divine image. As he came down the
steps, he
called softly to Rakhal: "Where are my shoes? Are they missing?"
As the Master got into the carriage, Surendra and the other devotees
bowed down before him. Then the carriage started for Dakshineswar. The
moon still lighted the streets.