Krishna and gopis at Vrindavan — Master's ecstasy — Radha's anguish at separation from Krishna — Master's praise of Niranjan — Be mad for God alone — Egotism brings calamity — Parable of the calf — Signs of God-vision — Harmless ego — Secret of work — The path of bhakti for this age — First God and then worldly duties — Go forward — The story of the wood-cutter — Master's advice to Pratap — Knowledge and ignorance — Baburam's spiritual nature — Concerning Rakhal — Niranjan's guilelessness — Two classes of Master's devotees — Significance of the Master's injuring his arm — How a jnani looks, on the illusory world — Supreme power of Adyasakti in the relative world.
Sunday, June 15, 1884
SRI RAMAKRISHNA arrived in the morning
at the garden house of Surendra,
one of his beloved householder disciples, in the village of Kankurgachi
near Calcutta. Surendra had invited him and a large number of the
devotees to a religious festival.
Occasions like this were a source of great happiness and rejoicing to
the
Master's devotees. He was then seen at his best. He joined with the
others
in devotional music and in chanting the names of God, frequently going
into ecstasy. He poured out his entire soul in inspired talk,
explaining the
various phases of God-Consciousness. The impressions of such a festival
lingered in the minds of all for many days.
The devotees stood in rows inside the big hall of the garden house to
hear
the music sung by the professional singers. The floor of the room was
covered
with a carpet over which was spread a white sheet; a few bolsters,
pillows,
and cushions lay here and there.
The musicians were singing of the episodes in the life of Sri Krishna
especially associated with His divine love for the gopis of Vrindavan.
This
was a theme which always appealed to the Master and would throw him
into ecstatic moods.
Krishna, God Incarnate, lived the years of His boyhood in Vrindavan as
a cowherd. He tended His cows on the green meadows along the bank of
the Jamuna and played His flute. The milkmaids could not resist the
force
of His divine attraction. At the sound of His flute they would leave
their
household duties and go to the bank of the sacred river. Their love for
Krishna destroyed their attachment to worldly things. Neither the
threats
of their relatives nor the criticism of others could make them desist
from
seeking the company of Krishna. In the love of the gopis for Krishna
there
was not the slightest trace of worldliness. It was the innate
attraction of
God for pure souls, as of the magnet for iron. The author of the Bhagavata
has compared this love to the all-consuming love of a woman for her
beloved.
Before the onrush of that love all barriers between man and God are
swept
away. The devotee surrenders himself completely to his Divine Beloved
and
in the end becomes one with Him.
Radha was the foremost of the gopis, and Krishna's chief playmate. She
felt an indescribable longing for union with Him. A moment's separation
from Krishna would rend her heart and soul. During many a moonlit night
Krishna would dance with Radha and the gopis in the sacred groves of
Vrindavan, and on such occasions the gopis would experience the highest
religious ecstasy. At the age of eleven Krishna was called to be the
king of
Mathura. He left the gopis, promising them, however. His divine vision
whenever they concentrated on Him in their hearts.
For centuries and centuries the lovers of God in India have been
worshipping
the Divine by recreating in themselves the yearning of the gopis for
Krishna. Many of the folk-songs of India have as their theme this sweet
episode of Krishna's life. Sri Chaitanya revived this phase of Hindu
religious
life by his spiritual practice and his divine visions. In his ecstatic
music
Chaitanya assumed the role of Radha and manifested the longing to be
united with Krishna. For a long period Sri Ramakrishna also worshipped
God as his beloved Krishna, looking on himself as one of the gopis or
as
God's handmaid.
At Surendra's garden house the kirtan had begun early in the morning.
The musicians were singing about the love of Krishna and Radha for each
other. The Master was frequently in samadhi. The room was crowded with
devotees, among them Bhavanath, Niranjan, Rakhal, Surendra, Ram, and
M., and many members of the Brahmo Samaj.
In accordance with the custom, the kirtan had begun with an
introductory
song about Gauranga. Gauranga embraces monastic life. He is being
consumed
with longing for a vision of Krishna. He leaves Navadvip and goes
away as a wandering monk to seek out his Beloved. His devotees, unable
to
bear the pangs of separation, weep bitterly and beg Gauranga to return.
The musician sang:
O Gaur, come back to Nadia!
Next the musician sang about the anguish of Radha at her
separation from
Krishna. When Sri Ramakrishna heard the song he suddenly stood up.
Assuming the mood of Radha, he sang in a voice laden with sorrow,
improvising
the words: "O friend, either bring my beloved Krishna here or take
me to Him." Thus singing, he completely lost himself in Radha and could
not continue the song. He became speechless, his body motionless, his
eyes
half closed, his mind totally unconscious of the outer world. He was in
deep
samadhi.
After a long time he regained normal consciousness and said in the same
heart-rending voice: "O friend, take me to my beloved Krishna and make
me your bondslave. I shall be your handmaid for ever. O friend, it was
you
who taught me how to love Krishna. O Krishna! O Beloved of my soul!"
The professional musicians continued their song. They took the part of
Radha and sang as if she were talking to her friend: "O friend, I shall
not
go again to the Jamuna to draw water. Once I beheld my beloved Friend
under the kadamba tree. Whenever I pass it I am overwhelmed."
The Master again became abstracted. Heaving a deep sigh he said, "Ah
me! Ah me!"
The song went on. Radha says:
Even the desire for Krishna's presence
Has cooled and refreshed my feverish body.
Now and then the musicians improvised lines to the music,
continuing
in the attitude of Radha: "O friends, you can wait. Show me Krishna, my
Beloved." Again: "Do not bother about my ornaments. I have lost my most
precious Ornament." And again: "Alas! I have fallen on evil days. My
happy days are over." And finally: "This unhappy time lingers so long!"
Sri Ramakrishna improvised a line himself: "Are not better times yet in
sight for me?" The musicians then improvised: "Such a long time has
passed!
Are not better times yet in sight for me?"
The musicians sang Radha's words to a friend:
O friend, I am dying! Surely I die.
The anguish of being kept apart
From Krishna is more than I can bear.
Alas! to whom then shall I leave
My priceless Treasure? (Krishna) When I am dead,
I beg you, do not burn my body;
Do not cast it into the river.
See that it is not given to the flames;
Do not cast it into the water.
In this body I played with Krishna.
Bind my lifeless form, I beg you,
To the black tamala's branches;
Tie it to the tamala tree.
Touching tamala it touches black.
Krishna is black, and black is tamala;
Black is the colour that I love.
From earliest childhood I have loved it.
To the black Krishna my body belongs;
Let it not lie apart from black!
Radha reaches her last extremity. She faints away.
Radha has fallen to the-ground;
She lies there lost to outward sense,
Repeating her precious Krishna's name,
And straightway closes both her eyes.
Ah, has the drama reached its end?
What ails you, O delight of Krishna?
Only a moment ago you spoke.
Her friends, anointing Radha's form
With cool and soothing sandal-paste,
Attempt to bring her back to earth.
Some of them weep in bitter grief;
They cannot bear to see her die.
Some sprinkle water on her face;
Perhaps she will revive again!
But, oh, can water give back life
To one who dies of Krishna's love?
Radha's friends chant Krishna's sweet name in her ears. This brings her back to partial consciousness. She looks at the black tamala tree and thinks that Krishna stands before her.
Krishna's name restores her life;
Once more her two eyes gaze around,
But Krishna's face she cannot see.
Alas, how bitterly she weeps!
"Where is my Krishna? Where is He
Whose name you chanted in my ears?
Bring Him but once before me here!"
Seeing the black tamala tree,
She stares at it and cries aloud:
"There is His crest! I see it clearly!
There is my Krishna's lovely crest!"
But only a peacock did she see,
Whose glistening feathers she mistook
For the gay feather on Krishna's crest.
Krishna has gone to Mathura to assume His royal duties. He has
discarded
His cowherd's dress and flute and put on the royal regalia. Radha's
friends,
after a hurried consultation, send a gopi to Mathura as messenger. She
meets
a woman of that city, of her own age, who asks her where she comes from.
Radha's friend says: "I don't have to call Krishna. He Himself will
come
to me." But none the less she follows the woman of Mathura and goes to
Krishna's palace. In the street she weeps, overcome with grief, and
prays to
Krishna: "O Hari, where are You? O Life of the gopis! O Enchanter of
our
hearts! O Beloved of Radha! O Hari, Remover of Your devotees' shame!
Come to us once more! With great pride I said to the people of Mathura
that You Yourself would come to me. Please do not humiliate me,"
In scorn says the woman of Mathura:
"Oh, you are only a simple milkmaid!
How can you go to see our King,
Our Krishna, in your beggar's rags?
Behind seven doors His chamber stands.
You cannot enter. How can you go?
I die of shame to see your boldness.
Tell me, how will you manage to enter?"
Says the gopi: "Krishna! Beloved!
Soul of the gopis! Oh, where are You?
Come to me here and save my life.
Where are You, adorable Soul of the gopis?
Come to me, Lord of Mathura!
And save the life of Your sorrowing handmaid.
Ah, where are You, Beloved of Radha?
Lord of our hearts and Friend of our souls!
O Hari, Destroyer of our shame!
O priceless Treasure of the gopis!
Come to Your handmaid and save her honour."
Behold, there Radha stands by Krishna;
On His bosom she reclines.
Behold her standing at His left,
Like a golden creeper twining
Round a black tamala tree!
As the music came to a close the Master led the chorus. All
chanted
together to the accompaniment of drums and cymbals: "Victory to Radha
and Krishna! Hallowed be the names of Radha and Krishna!" The devotees
felt a surge of divine emotion and danced around the Master. He too
danced in an ecstasy of joy. The names of God echoed and re-echoed in
the
house and garden.
After the music the Master sat with the devotees. Just then Niranjan
arrived and prostrated himself before him. At the very sight of this
beloved
disciple the Master stood up, with beaming eyes and smiling face, and
said:
"You have come too! (To M.) You see, this boy is
absolutely guileless. One
cannot be guileless without a great deal of spiritual discipline in
previous
births. A hypocritical and calculating mind can never attain God.
"Don't you see that God incarnates Himself only in a family where
innocence exists? How guileless Dasaratha was! So was Nanda, Krishna's
father. There is a saying: 'Ah, how innocent a man he is! He is just
like
Nanda.'
(To Niranjan) "I feel as if a dark veil has covered
your face. It is because
you have accepted a job in an office. One must keep accounts there.
Besides,
one must attend to many other things, and that always keeps the mind in
a
state of worry. You are serving in an office like other worldly people;
but
there is a slight difference, in that you are earning money for the
sake of
your mother. One must show the highest respect to one's mother, for she
is
the very embodiment of the Blissful Mother of the Universe. If you had
accepted the job for the sake of wife and children, I should have said:
"Fie
upon you! Shame! A thousand shames!'
(To Mani Mallick, pointing to Niranjan) "Look at
this boy. He is
absolutely guileless. But he has one fault: he is slightly untruthful
nowadays.
The other day he said that he would visit me again very soon, but he
didn't
come. (To Niranjan) That is why Rakhal asked you why
you didn't come
to see me while you were at Ariadaha, so near Dakshineswar."
NIRANJAN: "I was there only a couple of days."
MASTER (to Niranjan, pointing to M.) "He is the
headmaster of a school.
At my bidding he went to see you. (To M.) Did you
send Baburam to me
the other day?"
The Master went to an adjoining room and began to talk with some
devotees there.
MASTER (to M.): "Ah! How wonderful was the yearning
of
the gopis for Krishna! They were seized with divine madness at the very
sight of the black
tamala tree. Separation from Krishna created such a fire of anguish in
Radha's heart that it dried up even the tears in her eyes! Her tears
would
disappear in steam. There were other times when nobody could notice the
depth of her feeling. People do not notice the plunge of an elephant in
a
big lake."
M: "Yes, sir, that is true. Chaitanya, too, experienced a similar
feeling.
He mistook a forest for the sacred grove of Vrindavan, and the dark
water
of the ocean for the blue Jamuna."
MASTER: "Ah! If anyone has but a particle of such prema! What
yearning! What love! Radha possessed not only one hundred per cent of
divine
love, but one hundred and twenty-five per cent. This is what it means
to be
intoxicated with ecstatic love of God. The sum and substance of the
whole
matter is that a man must love God, must be restless for Him. It
doesn't
matter whether you believe in God with form or in God without form.
You may or may not believe that God incarnates Himself as man. But you
will realize Him if you have that yearning. Then He Himself will let
you
know what He is like. If you must be mad, why should you be mad for
the things of the world? It you must be mad, be mad for God alone."
Presently Sri Ramakrishna returned to the main hall of the house. A big
pillow was placed near him for his use. Before touching it he said, "Om
Tat
Sat."1
Perhaps the pillow had been used by many worldly people, and that
was why he purified it in this way. Bhavanath, M,, and other devotees
sat
near him. It was getting late, but there was no indication that the
meal was
going to be served. The Master became impatient, like a child, and
said: "I
don't see any sign of food. What's the matter? Where is Narendra?"
A DEVOTEE (with a smile): "Sir, Ram
Babu is the manager of the feast. He is superintending everything."
MASTER (laughing): "Oh, Ram is the
manager! Then we know what to expect."
A DEVOTEE: "Things like this always happen
when he is the supervisor." (All laugh.)
MASTER (to the devotees): "Where is
Surendra? What a nice disposition
he has now! He is very outspoken; he isn't afraid to speak the truth.
He is
unstinting in his liberality. No one that goes to him for help comes
away
empty-handed. (To M.) You went to Bhagavan Das. (A
great Vaishnava devotee.) What sort of man is he?"
M: "He is very old now. I saw him at Kalna. It was night. He lay on a
carpet and a devotee fed him with food that had been offered to God. He
can hear only if one speaks loudly into his ear. Hearing me mention
your
name he said, 'You have nothing to worry about.'"
BHAVANATH (to M.): "You haven't been
to Dakshineswar for a long time. The Master asked me about you and said
one day, 'Has M. lost all taste for this place?'"
Bhavanath laughed as he said these words. The Master heard their
conversation
and said to M. in a loving voice: "Yes, that is true. Why haven't
you been to Dakshineswar for such a long time?" M. could only stammer
some lame excuses.
Just then Mahimacharan arrived. He lived at Cossipore near Calcutta.
Mahimacharan held the Master in great respect and was a frequent
visitor
at the temple garden. He was a man of independent means, having
inherited
some ancestral property. He devoted his time to religious thought and
to the
study of the scriptures. He was a man of some scholarship, having
studied
many books, both Sanskrit and English.
MASTER (to Mahima): "What is this?
I see a steamship here. (All laugh.)
We expect here a small boat at the most, but a real steamship has
arrived.
But then I know. It's the rainy season!" (Laughter.)
The Master was conversing with Mahimacharan. He asked him: "Isn't
feeding people a kind of service to God? God exists in all beings as
fire. To
feed people is to offer oblations to that Indwelling Spirit. But then
one
shouldn't feed the wicked, I mean people who are entangled in gross
worldliness
or who have committed heinous crimes like adultery. Even the ground
where such people sit becomes impure to a depth of seven cubits. Once
Hriday fed a number of people at his native place. A good many of them
were wicked. I said to Hriday: 'Look here. If you feed such people I
shall
leave your house at once.' (To Mahima) I hear that
you used to feed
people; but now you don't give any such feasts. Is it because your
expenses
have gone up?" (Laughter.)
The meal was to be served on the south verandah of the house.
Leaf-plates
were being placed on the floor. The Master said to Mahimacharan:
"Please go there and see what they are doing. You may help them a
little in
serving the food. But I shouldn't ask you." Mahimacharan said: "Let
them
bring in the food. I shall see." Hemming and hawing, he went toward the
kitchen, but presently he came back.
Sri Ramakrishna and the devotees enjoyed the meal greatly. Afterwards
he rested awhile. About two o'clock in the afternoon Pratap Chandra
Mazumdar of the Brahmo Samaj arrived. He was a co-worker of Keshab
Chandra Sen and had been to Europe and America in connection with the
Brahmo missionary work. He greeted Sri Ramakrishna, and the Master,
too, bowed before him with his usual modesty. They were soon engaged in
conversation.
PRATAP: "I have been to Darjeeling recently
for a change of air."
MASTER: "But your health hasn't much
improved. What are you suffering from?"
PRATAP: "The same illness that Keshab died of."
They began to talk about Keshab. Pratap said: "Even in boyhood he
showed non-attachment to worldly things, seldom making merry with other
boys. He was a student in the Hindu College. At that time he became
friendly with Satyendra and through him made the acquaintance of his
father, Devendranath Tagore. Keshab cultivated bhakti and at the same
time practised meditation. At times he would be so much overcome with
divine love that he would become unconscious. The main purpose of his
life was to introduce religion among householders."
The conversation next turned to a certain Marhatta lady.
PRATAP: "Some women of our country have
been to England. This Marhatta lady, who is very scholarly, also
visited England. Later she
embraced Christianity. Have you heard her name, sir?"
MASTER: "No. But from what you say it seems to me
that she has a desire for name and fame. That kind of egotism is not
good. The feeling 'I am the
doer' is the outcome of ignorance. But the feeling that God does
everything
is due to knowledge. God alone is the Doer; all others are mere
instruments
in His hands.
"The misfortune that befalls a man on account of his egotism can be
realized if you only think of the condition of the calf. The calf says,
'Hamma!
Hamma!', that is, 'I! I!' And just look at its misfortune! At times it
is yoked
to the plough and made to work in the field from sunup to sundown, rain
or shine. Again, it may be slaughtered by the butcher. In that case the
flesh
is eaten and the skin tanned into hide. From the hide shoes are made.
People put on these shoes and walk on the rough ground. Still that is
not
the end of its misfortunes. Drums are made from its skin and
mercilessly
beaten with sticks. At last its entrails are made into strings for the
bow used
in carding cotton. When used by the carder the string gives the sound
Tuhu! Tuhu!', Thou! Thou!' — that is, 'It is Thou, O Lord! It is Thou!'
It
no longer says, 'Hamma! Hamma!', 'I! I!' Only then does the calf's
trouble
come to an end, and it is liberated. It doesn't return to the world of
action.
"Likewise, when the embodied soul says: 'O God, I am not the doer;
Thou art the Doer. I am the machine and Thou art its Operator', only
then
does its suffering of worldly life come to an end; only then does it
obtain
liberation. It no longer has to be reborn in this world of action."
A DEVOTEE: "How can a man get rid of his ego?"
MASTER: "You cannot get rid of it until you have realized God. If you
find a person free from ego, then know for certain that he has seen
God."
DEVOTEE: "What, sir, are the signs of God-vision?"
MASTER: "Yes, there are such signs. It is said in
the Bhagavata that a man
who has seen God behaves sometimes like a child, sometimes like a
ghoul,
sometimes like an inert thing, and sometimes like a madman.
"The man who has seen God becomes like a child. He is beyond the
three gunas; he is unattached to any of them. He behaves like a ghoul,
for
he maintains the same attitude toward things holy and unholy. Again,
like
a madman, he sometimes laughs and sometimes weeps. Now he dresses
himself like a dandy and the next moment he goes entirely naked and
roams about with his cloth under his arm. Therefore he seems to be a
lunatic.
Again, at times he sits motionless like an inert thing."
DEVOTEE: "Does the ego disappear altogether after the realization of
God?"
MASTER: "Yes, sometimes God totally effaces the ego of His devotee, as
in the state of samadhi. But in many cases He keeps a trace of ego. But
that
doesn't injure anybody. It is like the ego of a child. A five-year-old
child no
doubt says 'I', but that ego doesn't harm anybody. At the touch of the
philosopher's stone, steel is turned into gold; the steel sword becomes
a sword
of gold. The gold sword has the form of a sword, no doubt, but it
cannot
injure anybody. One cannot cut anything with a gold sword.
(To Pratap) "You have been to England. Tell us what
you saw there."
PRATAP: "The English people worship what you call 'gold'. Of course,
there are also some good people in England, those who live an
Unattached
life. But generally one finds there a great display of rajas in
everything. I
saw the same thing in America."
MASTER (to Pratap): "It is not in England
alone that one sees attachment
to worldly things. You see it everywhere. But remember that work is
only
the first step in spiritual life. God cannot be realized without sattva
— love,
discrimination, kindness, and so on. It is the very nature of rajas to
involve
a man in many worldly activities. That is why rajas degenerates into
tamas.
If a man is entangled in too many activities he surely forgets God. He
becomes more and more attached to 'woman and gold'.
"But it is not possible for you to give up work altogether. Your very
nature
will lead you to it whether you like it or not. Therefore the
scriptures ask
you to work in a detached spirit, that is to say, not to crave the
work's
results. For example, you may perform devotions and worship, and
practise
austerities, but your aim is not to earn people's recognition or to
increase
your merit.
"To work in such a spirit of detachment is known as karmayoga. But it
is
very difficult. We are living in the Kaliyuga, when one easily becomes
attached to one's actions. You may think you are working in a detached
spirit, but attachment creeps into the mind from nobody knows where.
You
may worship in the temple or arrange a grand religious festival or feed
many
poor and starving people. You may think you have done all this without
hankering after the results. But unknown to yourself the desire for
name
and fame has somehow crept into your mind. Complete detachment from
the results of action is possible only for one who has seen God."
A DEVOTEE: "Then what is the way for those who have
not seen God? Must they give up all the duties of the world?"
MASTER: "The best path for this age is bhaktiyoga,
the path of bhakti prescribed by Narada: to sing the name and glories
of God and pray to Him
with a longing heart, "O God, give me knowledge, give me devotion, and
reveal Thyself to me!' The path of karma is extremely difficult.
Therefore
one should pray: 'O God, make my duties fewer and fewer; and may I,
through
Thy grace, do the few duties that Thou givest me without any attachment
to their
results! May I have no desire to be involved in many activities!'
"It is not possible to give up work altogether. Even to think or to
meditate
is a kind of work. As you develop love for God, your worldly activities
become fewer and fewer of themselves. And you lose all interest in
them. Can
one who has tasted a drink made of sugar candy enjoy a drink made of
ordinary molasses?"
A DEVOTEE: "The English people always exhort
us to be active. Isn't action the aim of life then?"
MASTER: "The aim of life is the attainment of God.
Work is only a preliminary step; it can never be the end. Even
unselfish work
is only a means; it is not the end.
"Sambhu Mallick once said to me, 'Please bless me, sir, that I may
spend
all my money for good purposes, such as building hospitals and
dispensaries,
making roads, and digging wells.' I said to him: 'It will be good if
you can
do these things in a spirit of detachment. But that is very difficult.
Whatever
you may do, you must always remember that the aim of this life of yours
is
the attainment of God and not the building of hospitals and
dispensaries.
Suppose God appeared before you and said to you, "Accept a boon from
Me."
Would you then ask Him, "O God, build me some hospitals and
dispensaries"?
Or would you not rather pray to Him: "O God, may I have pure
love at Your Lotus Feet! May I have Your uninterrupted vision!"?
Hospitals,
dispensaries, and all such things are unreal. God alone is real and all
else
unreal. Furthermore, after realizing God one feels that He alone is the
Doer
and we are but His instruments. Then why should we forget Him and
destroy ourselves by being involved in too many activities? After
realizing
Him, one may, through His grace, become His instrument in building many
hospitals and dispensaries.'
"Therefore I say again that work is only the first step. It can never
be
the goal of life. Devote yourself to spiritual practice and go forward.
Through
practice you will advance more and more in the path of God. At last you
will come to know that God alone is real and all else is illusory, and
that
the goal of life is the attainment of God.
"Once upon a time a wood-cutter went into a forest to chop wood. There
suddenly he met a brahmachari. The holy man said to him, 'My good man,
go forward.' On returning home the wood-cutter asked himself, 'Why did
the brahmachari tell me to go forward?' Some time passed. One day he
remembered the brahmachari's words. He said to himself, 'Today I shall
go
deeper into the forest.' Going deep into the forest, he discovered
innumerable
sandal-wood trees. He was very happy and returned with cart-loads of
sandal-wood. He sold them in the market and became very rich.
"A few days later he again remembered the words of the holy man to go
forward. He went deeper into the forest and discovered a silver-mine
near
a river. This was even beyond his dreams. He dug out silver from the
mine
and sold it in the market. He got so much money that he didn't even
know
how much he had.
"A few more days passed. One day he thought: The brahmachari didn't
ask me to stop at the silver-mine; he told me to go forward.' This time
he
went to the other side of the river and found a gold-mine. Then he
exclaimed:
'Ah, just see! This is why he asked me to go forward.'
"Again, a few days afterwards, he went still deeper into the forest and
found heaps of diamonds and other precious gems. He took these also and
became as rich as the god of wealth himself.
"Therefore I say that, whatever you may do, you will find better and
better
things if only you go forward. You may feel a little ecstasy as the
result
of japa, but don't conclude from this that you have achieved everything
in
spiritual life. Work is by no means the goal of life. Go forward, and
then
you will be able to perform unselfish work. But again I say that it is
most
difficult to perform unselfish work. Therefore with love and longing in
your
heart pray to God: 'O God, grant me devotion at Thy Lotus Feet and
reduce
my worldly duties. Please grant me the boon that the few duties I must
do
may be done in a detached spirit.' If you go still farther you will
realize
God. You will see Him. In time you will converse with Him."
Next the conversation turned to the quarrels among the members of the
Brahmo Samaj. They had had a misunderstanding about the right to preach
in the temple after Keshab's death.
MASTER (to Pratap): "I hear that
some members of the Samaj have quarrelled with you about the altar. But
they
are most insignificant persons — mere nobodies.
(To the devotees): "People like Pratap and Amrita
are like good
conch-shells, which give out a loud sound. And the rest, about whom you
hear so
much, don't give out any sound at all." (All laugh.)
PRATAP: "Speaking of sounds, even such a worthless
thing as a mango-stone makes a sound!"2
MASTER (to Pratap): "One can very well understand
the inner feeling of
a teacher of your Brahmo Samaj by hearing his preaching. Once I went to
a meeting of a Hari Sabha. The preacher of the day was a pundit named
Samadhyayi. And can you imagine what he said? He said in the course of
his sermon: 'God is dry. We must make Him sweet and fresh with our love
and devotion.' I was stunned to hear these words. Then I was reminded
of
a story. A boy once said: 'At my uncle's house there are many horses.
Oh,
yes! His whole cow-shed is full of them.' Now if it was really a
cow-shed,
then horses could not be kept there. Possibly he had only cows. What
did
people think on hearing such an incoherent statement? They believed
that
there were surely no such animals as horses in the shed." (Laughter.)
A DEVOTEE: "True, sir, there were not only no
horses, but possibly there were also no cows!" (Laughter.)
MASTER: "Just fancy, to describe God, who is of
the very nature of Love and Bliss, as dry! It only proves that the man
has never experienced what
God is like.
(To Pratap) "Let me tell you something. You are a
learned and intelligent
and serious-minded soul. Keshab and you were like the two brothers,
Gaur and Nitai. You have had enough of lectures, arguments, quarrels,
discussions, and dissensions. Can such things interest you any more?
Now
gather your whole mind and direct it to God. Plunge deep into God."
PRATAP: "Yes, sir, you are right. That is surely my only duty now. But
I am doing all these things only to perpetuate Keshab's name."
MASTER (with a smile): "No doubt you say now
that you are doing all this to keep his name alive; but in a few days
you won't feel that way.
Listen to a story. A man had built a house on a hill. It was only a mud
hut,
but he had built it with great labour. A few days after, there came a
violent
storm and the hut began to rock. The man became very anxious to save it
and prayed to the god of the winds, 'O god of the winds, please don't
wreck
the house!' But the god of the winds paid no heed to his prayer. The
house
was about to crash. Then he thought of a trick. He remembered that
Hanuman
man was the son of the god of the winds. At once he cried out with
great
earnestness: 'O revered sir, please don't pull down the house. It
belongs to
Hanuman. I beseech you to protect it.' But still the house continued to
shake violently. Nobody seemed to listen to his prayer. He repeated
many
times, 'Oh, this house belongs to Hanuman!' But the fury of the wind
did
not abate. Then he remembered that Hanuman was the devoted servant
of Rama, whose younger brother was Lakshmana. Desperately the man
prayed, crying aloud, 'Oh, this house belongs to Lakshmana!' But that
also
failed to help matters. So the man cried out as a last resort: 'This is
Rama's
house. Don't break it down, O god of the winds! I beseech you most
humbly.'
But this too proved futile, and the house began to crash down.
Whereupon
the man, who now had to save his own life, rushed out of it with the
curse:
'Let it go! This is the devil's own hut!'
(To Pratap): "You don't have to perpetuate Keshab's
name. Remember
that he achieved all his success through the will of God. Through the
divine
will his work was established, and through the divine will it is
disintegrating.
What can you do about it? Now it is your bounden duty to give your
entire
mind to God, to plunge deep into the Ocean of His Love."
Saying these words the Master sang in his sweet voice:
Dive deep, O mind, dive deep in the Ocean of God's Beauty;
If you descend to the uttermost depths,
There you will find the gem of Love.
Go seek, O mind, go seek Vrindavan in your heart,
Where with His loving devotees
Sri Krishna sports eternally.
Light up, O mind, light up true wisdom's shining lamp,
And let it burn with steady flame
Unceasingly within your heart.
Who is it that steers your boat across the solid earth?
It is your guru, says Kubir;
Meditate on his holy feet.
The Master continued, addressing Pratap: "Did you listen to
the song?
You have had enough of lectures and quarrels. Now dive deep into the
Ocean of God. There is no fear of death from plunging into this Ocean,
for
this is the Ocean of Immortality. Don't think that this will make you
lose
your head. Never for a moment harbour the idea that by thinking too
much
of God one becomes insane. Once I said to Narendra —"
PRATAP: "Who is Narendra, sir?"
MASTER : "Oh, never mind. There is a young man of that name. I said to
Narendra: 'Look here, my boy. God is the Ocean of Bliss. Don't you want
to plunge into this Ocean? Suppose there is a cup of syrup and you are
a fly.
Where will you sit to sip the syrup?' Narendra said, 'I will sit on the
edge
of the cup and stick my head out to drink it.' 'Why?' said I. 'Why
should
you sit on the edge?' He replied, 'If I go far into the syrup, I shall
be
drowned and lose my life.' Then I said to him: 'But, my child, there is
no
such fear in the Ocean of Satchidananda. It is the Ocean, of
Immortality.
By plunging into It a man does not die; he becomes immortal. Man does
not lose his consciousness by being mad about God.
(To the devotees) "The feeling of 'I' and 'mine' is
ignorance. People
say that Rani Rasmani built the Kali temple; but nobody says it was the
work of God. They say that such and such a person established the
Brahmo
Samaj; but nobody says it was founded through the will of God. This
feeling,
'I am the doer', is ignorance. On the contrary, the idea, 'O God, Thou
art the Doer and I am only an instrument; Thou art the Operator and I
am
the machine', is Knowledge. After attaining Knowledge a man says: 'O
God,
nothing belongs to me — neither this house of worship nor this Kali
temple
nor this Brahmo Samaj. These are all Thine. Wife, son, and family do
not
belong to me. They are all Thine.'
"To love these objects, regarding them as one's own, is maya. But to
love
all things is daya, compassion. To love only the members of the Brahmo
Samaj or of one's own family is maya; to love one's own countrymen is
maya. But to love the people of all countries, to love the members of
all
religions, is daya. Such love comes from love of God, from daya.
"Maya entangles a man and turns him away from God. But through
daya one realizes God. Sages like Sukadeva and Narada always cherished
daya in their hearts."
PRATAP: "Revered sir, are those who live
with you making progress in spiritual life?"
MASTER: "I tell people that there is nothing wrong
in the life of the world.
But they must live in the world as a maidservant lives in her master's
house.
Referring to her master's house, she says, 'That is our house.' But her
real
home is perhaps in a far-away village. Pointing out her master's house
to
others, she says, no doubt, 'This is our house', but in her heart she
knows
very well that it doesn't belong to her and that her own house is in a
faraway
village. She brings up her master's son and says, 'My Hari has grown
very naughty', or 'My Hari doesn't like sweets.' Though she repeats,
'My
Hari' with her lips, yet she knows in her heart that Hari doesn't
belong to
her, that he is her master's son.
"Thus I say to those who visit me: 'Why don't you live in the world?
There is no harm in that. But always keep your mind on God. Know for
certain that house, family, and property are not yours. They are God's.
Your
real home is in God.' Also I ask them to pray always with a longing
heart for
love of God's Lotus Feet."
Again the conversation turned to the English people. A devotee said,
"Sir,
I understand that nowadays the pundits of England do not believe in the
existence of God."
PRATAP: "However they may talk, I don't believe that any of them is a
real atheist. Many of them have had to admit that there is a great
power
behind the activities of the universe."
MASTER: "Well, that is enough. They believe in
Sakti, don't they? Then why should they be atheists?"
PRATAP: "They also believe in the moral government of the universe."
Pratap was now about to take leave of the Master.
MASTER (to Pratap): "What more shall I say to you?
My only request
is that you do not involve yourself in quarrels and dissensions any
more. Another
thing. It is 'woman and gold' that keeps men away from God. That
is the barrier. Don't you find that everyone has nothing but praise for
his
own wife? (All laugh.) A wife may be good or bad;
but if you ask her husband
about her he will always say, 'Oh, she is very good —'"
At this point Pratap bade the Master good-bye. He did not wait to hear
the end of Sri Ramakrishna's words about the renunciation of "woman and
gold". Those burning words touched the hearts of the devotees and were
carried away on the wind through the gently rustling leaves in the
garden.
A few minutes later Mani Mallick said to Sri Ramakrishna: "Sir, it is
time for you to leave for Dakshineswar. Today Keshab's mother and the
other ladies of his family are going to the temple garden to visit you.
They
will be hurt if they do not find you there."
Keshab had passed away only a few months before. His old mother and
his other relatives wanted to visit the Master.
MASTER (to Mani Mallick): "Don't hurry me,
please. I didn't sleep well.
I can't rush. They are going to Dakshineswar. What am I to do about it?
They will stroll in the garden and enjoy it thoroughly."
After resting a little the Master was ready to leave for Dakshineswar.
He
was thinking of Surendra's welfare. He visited the different rooms,
softly
chanting the holy name of God. Suddenly he stood still and said: "I
didn't
eat any luchi at meal-time. Bring me a little now." He ate only a crumb
and
said: "There is much meaning in my asking for the luchi. If I should
remember that I hadn't eaten any at Surendra's house, then I should
want to
come back for it." (All laugh.)
MANI MALLICK: "That
would have been nice. Then we too should have come with you."
The devotees laughed.
Friday, June 20, 1884
It was dusk. Sri Ramakrishna was sitting in his room, absorbed
in
contemplation of the Divine Mother. Now and then he was chanting Her
name.
Rakhal, Adhar, M., and several other devotees were with him.
After a while the evening worship began in the temples. Adhar left the
room to see the worship. Sri Ramakrishna and M. conversed.
MASTER: "Tell me, does Baburam intend to
continue his studies? I said
to him, "Continue your studies to set an example to others.' After Sita
had
been set free, Bibhishana refused to become king of Ceylon. Rama said
to
him: 'You should become king to open the eyes of the ignorant.
Otherwise
they will ask you what you have gained as a result of serving Me. They
will
be pleased to see you acquire the kingdom.'
"I noticed the other day that Baburam, Bhavanath, and Harish have a
feminine nature. In a vision I saw Baburam as a goddess with a necklace
around her neck and with woman companions about her. He has received
something in a dream. His body is pure. Only a very little effort will
awaken
his spiritual consciousness.
"You see, I am having some difficulty about my physical needs. It will
be
nice if Baburam lives with me. The nature of these attendants of mine
is
undergoing a change. Latu is always tense with spiritual emotion. He is
about to merge himself in God. Rakhal is getting into such a spiritual
mood
that he can't do anything even for himself. I have to get water for
him. He
isn't of much service to me.
"Among the youngsters Baburam and Niranjan are rather exceptional.
If other boys come in the future, they will, it seems to me, receive
instruction and then go away.
"But I don't want Baburam to tear himself away from his family. It may
make trouble at home. (Smiling) When I ask him, 'Why
don't you come?',
he says, 'Why not make me come?'. He looks at Rakhal and weeps. He
says,
'Rakhal is very happy here.'
"Rakhal now lives here as one of the family. I know that he will never
again be attached to the world. He says that worldly enjoyments have
become
tasteless to him. His wife came here on her way to Konnagar. She is
fourteen. He too was asked to go to Konnagar, but he didn't go. He
said, 'I don't
like merriment and gaiety.'
"What do you think of Niranjan?"
M: "He is very handsome."
MASTER: "No, I am not asking about his
looks. He is guileless. One can
easily realize God if one is free from guile. Spiritual instruction
produces
quick results in a guileless heart. Such a heart is like well
cultivated land
from which all the stones have been removed. No sooner is the seed sown
than it germinates. The fruit also appears quickly.
"Niranjan will not marry. It is 'woman and gold' that causes
entanglement.
Isn't that so?"
M: "Yes, sir."
MASTER: "What will one gain by renouncing betel-leaf
and tobacco? The real renunciation is the renunciation of 'woman and
gold'.
"I came to know in an ecstatic mood that, though Niranjan had accepted
a job in an office, he would not be stained by it. He is earning money
for
his mother. There is no harm in that.
"The work you are doing won't injure you either. What you are doing
is good. Suppose a clerk is sent to jail; he is shut up there and
chained, and
at last he is released. Does he cut capers after his release? Of course
not. He
works again as a clerk. It is not your intention to accumulate money.
You
only want to support your family. Otherwise, where will they go?"
M: "I shall be relieved if someone takes charge of them."
MASTER: "That is true. But now do 'this' as
well as 'that'." (That is to say, both worldly
duty and spiritual practice.)
M: "It is great luck to be able to renounce everything."
MASTER: "That is true. But people act
according to their inherent tendencies. You have a few more duties to
perform.
After these are over you will
have peace. Then you will be released. A man cannot easily get out of
the
hospital once his name is registered there. He is discharged only when
he is
completely cured.
"The devotees who come here may be divided into two groups. One group
says, 'O God, give me liberation.' Another group, belonging to the
inner
circle, doesn't talk that way. They are satisfied if they can know two
things:
first, who I am (referring to himself); second, who they are
and what their relationship to me is.
You belong to this second group; otherwise . . .
"Bhavanath, Baburam, and a few others have a feminine nature. Harish
sleeps in a woman's cloth. Baburam says that he too likes the womanly
attitude.
So I am right. Bhavanath also is like that. But Narendra, Rakhal, and
Niranjan have a masculine nature.
"Please tell me one thing. What is the significance of my having hurt
my arm? Once my teeth were broken while I was in a state of ecstasy. It
is
the arm this time."
Seeing M. silent, the Master himself continued the conversation.
MASTER: "My arm was broken in order to destroy
my ego to its very root.
Now I cannot find my ego within myself any more. When I search for it
I see God alone. One can never attain God without completely getting
rid
of the ego. You must have noticed that the chatak bird has its nest on
the
ground but soars up very high.
"Captain says I haven't acquired any occult powers because I eat fish.
I
tremble with fear lest I should acquire those powers. If I should have
them,
then this place would be turned into a hospital or a dispensary. People
would
flock here and ask me to cure their illness. Is it good to have occult
powers?"
M: "No, sir. You have said to us that a man cannot realize God if he
possesses
even one of the eight occult powers."
MASTER: "Right you are. Only the small-minded seek
them. If one asks
something of a rich man, one no longer receives any favour from him.
The
rich man doesn't allow such a person to ride in the same carriage with
him.
Even if he does, he doesn't allow the man to sit near him. Therefore
love
without any selfish motive is best.
"God with form and the formless God are both equally true. What do
you say? One cannot keep one's mind on the formless God a long time.
That is why God assumes form for His devotees.
"Captain makes a nice remark in this connexion. He says that when a
bird gets tired of soaring very high it perches on a tree and rests.
First is the
formless God, and then comes God with form.
"I shall have to go to your house once. I saw in a vision that the
houses
of Adhar, Balaram, and Surendra were so many places for our
forgathering.
But it makes no difference to me whether they come here or not."
M: "That's right. Why shouldn't it be so? One must feel misery if one
feels happiness. But you are beyond both."
MASTER: "Yes. Further, I think of the magician and his magic. The
magician alone is real. His magic is illusory, like a dream. I realized
this
when I heard the Chandi recited. Sumbha and Nisumbha3
were scarcely born when I learnt that they both were dead."
M: "Yes, sir. Once I was going to Kalna with Gangadhar in a steamer. A
country boat struck our ship and sank with twenty or twenty-five
passengers.
They all disappeared in the water, like foam churned up by the steamer.
"May I ask you one thing? Does a man watching magic really feel
compassion when he sees suffering in the performance? Does he feel, at
that
time, any sense of responsibility? One thinks of compassion only when
one
feels responsibility. Isn't that so?"
MASTER: "A jnani sees everything at once —
God, maya, the universe, and
living beings. He sees that vidyamaya, avidyamaya, the universe, and
all
living beings exist and at the same time do not exist. As long as he is
conscious of 'I', he is conscious of 'others' too. Nothing whatsoever
exists after
he cuts through the whole thing with the sword of jnana. Then even his
'I'
becomes as unreal as the magic of the magician."
M. was reflecting on these words, when the Master said: "Do you know
what it is like? It is as if there were a flower with twenty-five
layers of
petals, and you cut them all with one stroke.
"The idea of responsibility! Goodness gracious! Men like Sankaracharya
and Sukadeva kept the 'ego of Knowledge'. It is not for man to show
compassion, but for God. One feels compassion as long as one has the
'ego of
Knowledge'. And it is God Himself who has become the 'ego of Knowledge'.
"You may feel a thousand times that it is all magic; but you are still
under
the control of the Divine Mother. You cannot escape Her. You are not
free. You must do what She makes you do. A man attains Brahmajnana only
when it is given to him by the Adyasakti, the Divine Mother. Then alone
does he see the whole thing as magic; otherwise not.
"As long as the slightest trace of ego remains, one lives within the
jurisdiction of the Adyasakti, One is under Her sway. One cannot go
beyond Her.
"With the help of the Adyasakti, God sports as an Incarnation. God,
through His Sakti, incarnates Himself as man. Then alone does it become
possible for the Incarnation to carry on His work. Everything is due to
the
Sakti of the Divine Mother.
"When anyone asked the former manager of the temple garden a great
favour, the manager would say, 'Come after two or three days.' He must
ask the proprietor's permission.
"God will incarnate Himself as Kalki at the end of the Kaliyuga. He
will
be born as the son of a brahmin. Suddenly and unexpectedly a sword and
horse will come to him. . . ."
Adhar returned to the Master's room after watching the evening worship
in the temples.
MASTER (to Adhar and the others):
"Bhuvan was here and brought me
twenty-five Bombay mangoes and some sweets. She said to me, 'Will you
eat
a mango?' I said, 'My stomach is heavy today.' And to tell you the
truth, I
am feeling uncomfortable after eating a few of the sweets."
Bhuvanmohini was a nurse who used to visit Sri Ramakrishna now and
then. The Master could not eat the food offerings of everyone,
especially of
physicians and nurses. It was because they accepted money from the sick
in spite of the suffering of these people.
MASTER: "Keshab Sen's mother, sisters, and
other relatives came here; so I had to dance a little. I had to
entertain them.
What else could I do? They were so grief-stricken!"