अत्यंत सामान्य परिवार में माघी पूर्णिमा के दिन काशी के समीप जन्मे रैदासने अपने असामान्य चिंतन एवं कार्य से संत समाज में प्रतिष्ठा पाई। अपने श्रेष्ठ उदात्त कर्म और सात्विक मन की निर्मलता से रैदाससंत रविदास नाम से विख्यात हुए। एक बार अपने कार्य में व्यस्त रविदास ने गंगा स्नान पर जा रहे मित्रों से कहा था- मन चंगा तो कठौतीमें गंगा। तब से लेकर आज तक मन की शुद्धता के लिए संत रविदास का नाम आदृत है। इनके शिष्यों में अनेक उच्च परिवार के सदस्य आते हैं। उन्होंने मानवता की सेवा की। रविदास रामायण भक्तमाल,रैदासपुराण, रविदास की सत्यकथा,रविदास का सत्य स्वभाव और मठों पर आश्रित जनश्रुतियोंके आलोक में उनके प्रारंभिक जीवन का अध्ययन संभव है। रैदासकी आराधना से अनुप्राणित चित्तौडकी रानी उनकी शिष्या बन गयीं। संत रैदासने सामान्य जनता को ध्यान में रखकर सामाजिक तथा धार्मिक क्षेत्र का नवनिर्माण किया। इनकी वाणी अन्य सन्तों की सहगामी बनकर समग्र साहित्य में अपनी पृथक उपादेयता रखती है। रैदासके समूचे चिंतन में एक विकल अनुभूति व्याप्त है। उनकी वाणी में परमसत्ता को पहचानने, सान्निध्य प्राप्त करने, उसको प्राप्त करने के प्रति विकलता की अनुभूति थी। परमसत्ता को विराट रूप मानते हैं।
पूरन ब्रह्म बसैसब ठाहीं,कह रैदासमिलैसुख साई। अपने इष्ट को संबोधित करने में रैदासने राम, गोविंद, विट्ठल, हरि, वासुदेव, प्रभु, विष्णु, केशव, कमलापति, भगवान, माधव, गोपाल, महेश, दामोदर, निरंजन, मुरारी, रघुनाथ, मुकुंद के अतिरिक्त कहीं-कहीं पर अनेक नामों का एक साथ प्रयोग किया है।
रामनाम को उन्होंने सर्वाधिक महत्व दिया। उनके आश्रय राम हैं। स्थूल माया का प्रतीक समूचा कुटुम्ब और सम्पूर्ण ही जगत माना है। सूक्ष्यमाया के अंगों के विषय में प्रभूत रूप में कहते हैं। रैदासकहते हैं, जब एक ही इंद्रिय के बस में रहने से हिरन,मछली, भ्रमर, पतंगा का विनाश होता है तो पांच विकार वाले मनुष्य का कल्याण तो और भी कठिन है। रैदासजीत्रिगुणात्मकताको कई स्थानों पर बाधक बताकर इसे तीन ताप का पर्याय कहते हैं-
झूठी माया जग डहकायातीन ताप दहैरे। वे मानव जीवन को दुर्लभ उपलब्धि बताते हैं। मानव जीवन एक हीरे की तरह है। परंतु उसका यदि उपयोग भौतिक सुखोंके अर्जित करने में किया जाए तो यह जीवन को विनष्ट करना ही होगा।
रैनि गंवाई सोय करि,दिवस गंवायोखाय। हीरा जनम अमोल है, कौडी बदले जाए। आडंबर में भ्रमित समाज के लिए रैदासने चेतावनी दी कि मृत्यु के बाद सारे कर्मो की जानकारी मांगी जाएगी। यमपुरका पथ पर्याप्त कठिन बताते हैं। सत्यकर्मकरने की प्रेरणा बार-बार देते हैं। रैदासजीव को ईश्वर से पृथक नहीं मानते हैं। उनका कथन है कि मेरे और तेरे में कोई अन्तर नहीं है। रैदासके व्यक्तिगत जीवन में पवित्रता साधना का मूलमंत्र थी। रैदासआंतरिक साधना, भक्ति की आंतरिक भावुकतापर विशेष जोर देने के पक्षधर थे। वे कर्मकांड को निम्न कोटि का साधन मानते थे। उनकी मान्यता थी कि यदि वे मानसिक भाव से सम्पृक्त नहीं हैं तो निरर्थक हैं। परंपरागत मूर्ति पूजा के वे अनुयायी न थे। संत का मानना था कि धर्म के सम्पूर्ण वाह्य आचरण के बावजूद यदि मनुष्य में सामान्यत:मानवीय गुणों का उत्कर्ष नहीं हुआ है तो उसका वह धर्माचरणव्यर्थ हो जाता है। वे कहते हैं कि साधक को वाह्य धर्म विषयक वाद-विवाद त्यागकर भगवान का स्मरण करना चाहिए। उन्होंने सिद्ध कर दिया कि जन्म से नहीं व्यक्ति कर्म से महानता पाता है। गंगा की पावन पयस्विनी में सभी मार्गवर्तीजल आकर गंगाजल बनते हैं।
मंगल गुणों को विकसित करने का वे संदेश देते हैं। रैदासने सभी साधनों में भक्ति को श्रेष्ठ मानते हुए रक्षा का सहज उपाय कहा। मानवता के कल्याण के लिए जन्मे रैदासजी जनसामान्य को प्रभावित करते रहे। वे शाश्वत मूल्यों के संवाहक और महान विचारक संत थे।
डा. हरिप्रसाद दुबे
Friday, October 31, 2008
काशी के सचल विश्वनाथ श्रीतैलंग स्वामी
श्रीतैलंगस्वामी अध्यात्म जगत की ऐसी अतिविशिष्ट विभूति हैं, जिनकी तुलना किसी अन्य से कर पाना संभव नहीं लगता। ये एक परमसिद्धयोगी और जीवन्मुक्त पुरुष थे। इन महापुरुष का जन्म दक्षिण भारत के एक संपन्न ब्राह्मण परिवार में सन् 1607ई. के जनवरी माह में पौष-शुक्ल-एकादशीके पावन दिन हुआ था। इनके पिता नृसिंहधरऔर माता विद्यावती देवी नि:संतान होने के कारण बहुत दु:खी व चिंतित रहते थे। पुत्र-प्राप्ति की कामना से उन दोनों ने गौरीशंकर की आराधना एवं ब्राह्मणों की सेवा बडी श्रद्धा से की। स्वामीजीका आविर्भाव इसी के फलस्वरूप हुआ। पिता ने नामकरण किया तैलंगधर। माता विद्यावती ने एक दिन शिवार्चन करते समय देखा कि शिवलिंगसे एक दिव्य ज्योति निकल कर उनके पुत्र में समाविष्ट हो गई। इससे प्रभावित होकर मां ने इनका नाम शिवराम रख दिया।
बचपन से ही इनमें सांसारिक विषयों के प्रति वैराग्य तथा अध्यात्म की ओर प्रवृत्ति थी। युवावस्था आते-आते भौतिकता से इनकी उदासीनता स्पष्ट दिखलाई पडने लगी। माता-पिता ने तैलंगधरको विवाह के बंधन में बांधना चाहा, लेकिन इन्होंने वैराग्य की अति तीव्र भावना के कारण इसकी सम्मति नहीं दी। तैलंगधरजब 40वर्ष के थे, तब उनके पिता का देहावसान हो गया। वे अपनी माता की सेवा करते हुए ईश्वर के चिंतन में निमग्न हो गए। 52वर्ष की अवस्था में माताश्री का स्वर्गवास हो जाने पर ये सांसारिक दायित्वों से पूरी तरह मुक्त हो गए। जिस श्मशान में माता का दाह-संस्कार हुआ था, उसी निर्जन स्थान पर वे रहने लगे। उनके अनुज श्रीधर ने उन्हें घर वापस लाने का बहुत प्रयास किया किन्तु तैलंगधरन माने। तब श्रीधर ने अपने बडे भाई के लिए वहां एक कुटी बनवा दी। तैलंगधरने वहाँ 20वर्ष तक अत्यन्त कठोर साधना की। सन् 1679में इनकी भेंट स्वामी भगीरथानन्दसरस्वती नामक महायोगीसे हुई, जिनके साथ वे राजस्थान के सुप्रसिद्ध तीर्थ पुष्कर आ गए। वहीं पर भगीरथानन्दने सन् 1685ई.में इन्हें दीक्षा दी और इनका नाम गणपति स्वामी हो गया। 10वर्षो तक गुरु-शिष्य दोनों ने पुष्कर में एक साथ तप किया। सन् 1695ई. में गुरु के देह त्याग देने के दो वर्ष बाद वे तीर्थाटन के लिए निकल पडे। सन् 1697ई. में रामेश्वर की दर्शन-यात्रा में जब इन्होंने एक मृत ब्राह्मण को पुन:जीवित कर दिया तब लोगों ने पहली बार इनकी अलौकिक शक्ति का साक्षात्कार किया। वहाँ से कांजीवरम,कांचीपुरम,शिवकाशी,नासिक होकर सन् 1699ई. में वे सुदामापुरीपहुंचे। वहां इनकी सेवा में रत निर्धन-निपुत्र ब्राह्मण के धनवान-पुत्रवान हो जाने पर इनकी ख्याति चारों ओर फैल गई। दर्शनार्थियोंकी भीड के कारण साधना में विघ्न उपस्थित होता देखकर वे यहां से चल पडे। सन् 1701ई. में प्रभास क्षेत्र से द्वारकापुरीहोकर वे नेपाल पहुंच गए और वहां एक वन में योग-साधना करने लगे। नेपाल-नरेश इनका दर्शन करने आए और इनके भक्त बन गए। लोगों की भारी संख्या में एकत्रित होता देख वे यहां से भी प्रस्थान करके सन् 1707ई. में भीमरथीतीर्थ पहुंचे। वहां श्रृंगेरीमठ के स्वामी विद्यानन्दसरस्वती से इन्होंने संन्यास की दीक्षा ली। भीमरथीसे उत्तराखंड जाते समय वे केदारनाथ, बदरिकाश्रम,गुप्तकाशी,त्रियोगीनारायणआदि स्थानों पर भी इन्होंने तपस्या की।
उनके जैसे सिद्ध पुरुष के लिए कहीं पहुंच जाना असंभव न था। उनकी गति पृथ्वी के अतिरिक्त जल और वायु में भी थी। वे इच्छामात्रसे किसी भी स्थान पर पहुंच सकने में समर्थ थे। सन् 1710ई. में स्वामीजीमानसरोवर चले गए और वहां वे दीर्घकाल तक साधनारतरहे। यहां एक विधवा की प्रार्थना पर उसके मृत पुत्र के शरीर को स्पर्श करके स्वामी जी ने उसे पुनर्जीवित कर दिया। सन् 1726ई. में स्वामी जी नर्मदा के तट पर स्थित मार्कण्डेय ऋषि के आश्रम में आकर रहने लगे। वहां के सुप्रसिद्ध संत खाकी बाबा और अन्य लोगों ने देखा कि स्वामी जी के द्वारा पूजन करते समय नर्मदा में दूध प्रवाहित होने लगता था। सन् 1733ई. में स्वामी जी तीर्थराज प्रयाग आ गए और वहां एकांत में साधनालीनहो गए। यहां उन्होंने यात्रियों से खचाखच भरी एक नाव को अपनी यौगिक शक्ति से गंगाजीमें डूबने से बचाया।
प्रयागराज में 4वर्ष रहने के उपरांत सन् 1737ई. में तैलंगस्वामीकाशी पधारे और यहीं 150वर्ष तक रहे। वाराणसी में स्वामीजीअस्सी घाट, हनुमान घाट और दशाश्वमेधघाट आदि स्थानों पर रहने के बाद सन् 1800ई. में पंचगंगाघाट पर आकर बिंदुमाधवजी के मंदिर में रहने लगे। वहीं पास में एक महाराष्ट्रीयनब्राह्मण मंगलदासभट्ट एक कोठी में रहते थे। वे नित्य गंगा-स्नान करके बाबा विश्वनाथ जी की पूजा करने के बाद ही घर लौटते थे। मंगलदासप्रतिदिन यह देखकर बडे आश्चर्यचकित होते थे, कि जो माला उन्होंने श्रीकाशीविश्वनाथको चढाई थी, वही स्वामीजीके गले में पडी हुई है। कई बार परीक्षा करने पर भट्टजीयह जान गए कि स्वामी जी साक्षात् शिव-स्वरूप हैं। वे अनुनय-विनय करके स्वामी जी को अपनी कोठी में ले आए। स्वामीजीसदा खुले आसमान के नीचे रहते थे अत:कोठी के आंगन में बेदीबनाकर उसपरउनके रहने की व्यवस्था की गई। कालांतर में यह स्थान तैलंगस्वामीके मठ के नाम से विख्यात हो गया। तैलंगस्वामीदिगम्बरावस्थामें रहते थे। एक स्त्री अपने पति के स्वस्थ होने की कामना से प्रतिदिन जब बाबा विश्वनाथ के दर्शन-पूजन हेतु जाती थी, तब वह रास्ते में स्वामी जी को देखकर अपशब्द कह देती थी। एक रात श्रीकाशीविश्वनाथने उससे स्वप्न में कहा- तुम उस स्वामी की अवहेलना और अपमान मत करो। वे ही तुम्हारे पति को ठीक करेंगे। स्वामी जी का वास्तविक परिचय प्राप्त होते ही उस स्त्री के मन में उनके प्रति श्रद्धा की भावना जाग उठी। तैलंगस्वामीके द्वारा प्रदत्त भस्म लगाने से उसका पति रोग-मुक्त हो गया। इस प्रकार स्वामीजीने न जाने कितने लोगों को रोग-शोक, कष्ट-संताप और संकटों से मुक्त करके नवजीवन प्रदान किया। वे अत्यन्त उदार और परोपकारी थे। एक बार उज्जैनके महाराजा जब काशी की गंगा में नौका-विहार कर रहे थे, तब उन्होंने स्वामीजीको गंगाजीपर आसन जमाए देखा। श्रीरामकृष्णपरमहंस ने जब उन्हें भीषण गर्मी में तपती रेत पर लेटे देखा, तो वे स्वयं खीर बनाकर लाए और स्वामीजीको उसका भोग लगाया। परमहंसदेवउनकी दिव्यता से इतने प्रभावित हुए कि उन्होंने तैलंगस्वामीको सचल विश्वनाथ का नाम दे दिया। एक अंग्रेज अफसर ने वस्त्रहीनरहने के कारण इन्हें हवालात में बंद कर दिया किन्तु दूसरे दिन सबेरे यह देखा गया कि हवालात का ताला तो बंद है लेकिन स्वामी जी हँसते हुए बाहर टहल रहे हैं। श्रीतैलंगस्वामीके चमत्कारों को देखकर लोग दंग रह जाते थे। भारतीय योग और अध्यात्म की पताका चारों तरफ लहरा कर सन् 1887ई. में 280वर्ष पृथ्वी पर लीला करने के उपरांत अपनी जन्मतिथि पौष-शुक्ल-एकादशीके दिन ही काशी के ये सचल विश्वनाथ ब्रह्मलीन हो गए और पीछे छोड गए अपने सद्गुणों और योग-शक्ति का प्रकाश, जो हमें आज भी ईश्वर और धर्म से जुडने की प्रेरणा दे रहा है।
डा. अतुल टण्डन
बचपन से ही इनमें सांसारिक विषयों के प्रति वैराग्य तथा अध्यात्म की ओर प्रवृत्ति थी। युवावस्था आते-आते भौतिकता से इनकी उदासीनता स्पष्ट दिखलाई पडने लगी। माता-पिता ने तैलंगधरको विवाह के बंधन में बांधना चाहा, लेकिन इन्होंने वैराग्य की अति तीव्र भावना के कारण इसकी सम्मति नहीं दी। तैलंगधरजब 40वर्ष के थे, तब उनके पिता का देहावसान हो गया। वे अपनी माता की सेवा करते हुए ईश्वर के चिंतन में निमग्न हो गए। 52वर्ष की अवस्था में माताश्री का स्वर्गवास हो जाने पर ये सांसारिक दायित्वों से पूरी तरह मुक्त हो गए। जिस श्मशान में माता का दाह-संस्कार हुआ था, उसी निर्जन स्थान पर वे रहने लगे। उनके अनुज श्रीधर ने उन्हें घर वापस लाने का बहुत प्रयास किया किन्तु तैलंगधरन माने। तब श्रीधर ने अपने बडे भाई के लिए वहां एक कुटी बनवा दी। तैलंगधरने वहाँ 20वर्ष तक अत्यन्त कठोर साधना की। सन् 1679में इनकी भेंट स्वामी भगीरथानन्दसरस्वती नामक महायोगीसे हुई, जिनके साथ वे राजस्थान के सुप्रसिद्ध तीर्थ पुष्कर आ गए। वहीं पर भगीरथानन्दने सन् 1685ई.में इन्हें दीक्षा दी और इनका नाम गणपति स्वामी हो गया। 10वर्षो तक गुरु-शिष्य दोनों ने पुष्कर में एक साथ तप किया। सन् 1695ई. में गुरु के देह त्याग देने के दो वर्ष बाद वे तीर्थाटन के लिए निकल पडे। सन् 1697ई. में रामेश्वर की दर्शन-यात्रा में जब इन्होंने एक मृत ब्राह्मण को पुन:जीवित कर दिया तब लोगों ने पहली बार इनकी अलौकिक शक्ति का साक्षात्कार किया। वहाँ से कांजीवरम,कांचीपुरम,शिवकाशी,नासिक होकर सन् 1699ई. में वे सुदामापुरीपहुंचे। वहां इनकी सेवा में रत निर्धन-निपुत्र ब्राह्मण के धनवान-पुत्रवान हो जाने पर इनकी ख्याति चारों ओर फैल गई। दर्शनार्थियोंकी भीड के कारण साधना में विघ्न उपस्थित होता देखकर वे यहां से चल पडे। सन् 1701ई. में प्रभास क्षेत्र से द्वारकापुरीहोकर वे नेपाल पहुंच गए और वहां एक वन में योग-साधना करने लगे। नेपाल-नरेश इनका दर्शन करने आए और इनके भक्त बन गए। लोगों की भारी संख्या में एकत्रित होता देख वे यहां से भी प्रस्थान करके सन् 1707ई. में भीमरथीतीर्थ पहुंचे। वहां श्रृंगेरीमठ के स्वामी विद्यानन्दसरस्वती से इन्होंने संन्यास की दीक्षा ली। भीमरथीसे उत्तराखंड जाते समय वे केदारनाथ, बदरिकाश्रम,गुप्तकाशी,त्रियोगीनारायणआदि स्थानों पर भी इन्होंने तपस्या की।
उनके जैसे सिद्ध पुरुष के लिए कहीं पहुंच जाना असंभव न था। उनकी गति पृथ्वी के अतिरिक्त जल और वायु में भी थी। वे इच्छामात्रसे किसी भी स्थान पर पहुंच सकने में समर्थ थे। सन् 1710ई. में स्वामीजीमानसरोवर चले गए और वहां वे दीर्घकाल तक साधनारतरहे। यहां एक विधवा की प्रार्थना पर उसके मृत पुत्र के शरीर को स्पर्श करके स्वामी जी ने उसे पुनर्जीवित कर दिया। सन् 1726ई. में स्वामी जी नर्मदा के तट पर स्थित मार्कण्डेय ऋषि के आश्रम में आकर रहने लगे। वहां के सुप्रसिद्ध संत खाकी बाबा और अन्य लोगों ने देखा कि स्वामी जी के द्वारा पूजन करते समय नर्मदा में दूध प्रवाहित होने लगता था। सन् 1733ई. में स्वामी जी तीर्थराज प्रयाग आ गए और वहां एकांत में साधनालीनहो गए। यहां उन्होंने यात्रियों से खचाखच भरी एक नाव को अपनी यौगिक शक्ति से गंगाजीमें डूबने से बचाया।
प्रयागराज में 4वर्ष रहने के उपरांत सन् 1737ई. में तैलंगस्वामीकाशी पधारे और यहीं 150वर्ष तक रहे। वाराणसी में स्वामीजीअस्सी घाट, हनुमान घाट और दशाश्वमेधघाट आदि स्थानों पर रहने के बाद सन् 1800ई. में पंचगंगाघाट पर आकर बिंदुमाधवजी के मंदिर में रहने लगे। वहीं पास में एक महाराष्ट्रीयनब्राह्मण मंगलदासभट्ट एक कोठी में रहते थे। वे नित्य गंगा-स्नान करके बाबा विश्वनाथ जी की पूजा करने के बाद ही घर लौटते थे। मंगलदासप्रतिदिन यह देखकर बडे आश्चर्यचकित होते थे, कि जो माला उन्होंने श्रीकाशीविश्वनाथको चढाई थी, वही स्वामीजीके गले में पडी हुई है। कई बार परीक्षा करने पर भट्टजीयह जान गए कि स्वामी जी साक्षात् शिव-स्वरूप हैं। वे अनुनय-विनय करके स्वामी जी को अपनी कोठी में ले आए। स्वामीजीसदा खुले आसमान के नीचे रहते थे अत:कोठी के आंगन में बेदीबनाकर उसपरउनके रहने की व्यवस्था की गई। कालांतर में यह स्थान तैलंगस्वामीके मठ के नाम से विख्यात हो गया। तैलंगस्वामीदिगम्बरावस्थामें रहते थे। एक स्त्री अपने पति के स्वस्थ होने की कामना से प्रतिदिन जब बाबा विश्वनाथ के दर्शन-पूजन हेतु जाती थी, तब वह रास्ते में स्वामी जी को देखकर अपशब्द कह देती थी। एक रात श्रीकाशीविश्वनाथने उससे स्वप्न में कहा- तुम उस स्वामी की अवहेलना और अपमान मत करो। वे ही तुम्हारे पति को ठीक करेंगे। स्वामी जी का वास्तविक परिचय प्राप्त होते ही उस स्त्री के मन में उनके प्रति श्रद्धा की भावना जाग उठी। तैलंगस्वामीके द्वारा प्रदत्त भस्म लगाने से उसका पति रोग-मुक्त हो गया। इस प्रकार स्वामीजीने न जाने कितने लोगों को रोग-शोक, कष्ट-संताप और संकटों से मुक्त करके नवजीवन प्रदान किया। वे अत्यन्त उदार और परोपकारी थे। एक बार उज्जैनके महाराजा जब काशी की गंगा में नौका-विहार कर रहे थे, तब उन्होंने स्वामीजीको गंगाजीपर आसन जमाए देखा। श्रीरामकृष्णपरमहंस ने जब उन्हें भीषण गर्मी में तपती रेत पर लेटे देखा, तो वे स्वयं खीर बनाकर लाए और स्वामीजीको उसका भोग लगाया। परमहंसदेवउनकी दिव्यता से इतने प्रभावित हुए कि उन्होंने तैलंगस्वामीको सचल विश्वनाथ का नाम दे दिया। एक अंग्रेज अफसर ने वस्त्रहीनरहने के कारण इन्हें हवालात में बंद कर दिया किन्तु दूसरे दिन सबेरे यह देखा गया कि हवालात का ताला तो बंद है लेकिन स्वामी जी हँसते हुए बाहर टहल रहे हैं। श्रीतैलंगस्वामीके चमत्कारों को देखकर लोग दंग रह जाते थे। भारतीय योग और अध्यात्म की पताका चारों तरफ लहरा कर सन् 1887ई. में 280वर्ष पृथ्वी पर लीला करने के उपरांत अपनी जन्मतिथि पौष-शुक्ल-एकादशीके दिन ही काशी के ये सचल विश्वनाथ ब्रह्मलीन हो गए और पीछे छोड गए अपने सद्गुणों और योग-शक्ति का प्रकाश, जो हमें आज भी ईश्वर और धर्म से जुडने की प्रेरणा दे रहा है।
डा. अतुल टण्डन
खानपान से रखें दिल को दुरुस्त
हृदय के प्रति थोड़ी सी भी लापरवाही काफी नुकसानदेह साबित हो सकती है। आमतौर पर धूम्रपान व शराब के सेवन, शारीरिक न करने एवं मोटापे की वजह से दिल की बीमारियां पैदा होती है। हृदय रोग से बचने के लिए खानपान पर भी ध्यान देना जरूरी है।
[समुचित खानपान]
हृदय के रोगी को ऐसा भोजन करना चाहिए जिसमें शुगर कम एवं फाइबर की मात्रा अधिक हो।
[आहार में शामिल करे]
फल, सब्जियाँ, अनाज, दालें, अण्डे की जर्दी , स्किम्ड मिल्क , खिचड़ी, उबले चावल, फ्रूट कस्टर्ड, पीले फल, कार्नफ्लेक्स, दलिया, हरी पत्तोदार सब्जियां, फलों का रस , अंकुरित दालें, पालक का सूप, उबले आलू, केला, बीन्स, टमाटर, खीरा, मूली, गाजर, लस्सी (नमक वाली), धनिया व पोदीना की चटनी।
[कम खायें या ना खायें]
मक्खन, मलाई वाला दूध, मीट, अंडे का पीला हिस्सा, क्रीम, चीज, खोया, आइसक्रीम, पनीर, मिठाई।
[निम्न पर ध्यान दें]
* खाना हर रोज निर्धारित समय पर ही भोजन करे।
* खाना हल्का और जल्दी पचने वाला होना चाहिए।
* भोजने को स्वादिष्ट बनाने के लिए नींबू, सिरका, इमली, हर्ब्स (जड़ी बूटियों), हल्के मसाले, प्याज, लहसुन का इस्तेमाल कर सकते है।
* भोजन धीरे-धीरे एवं चबाकर खायें।
* अपने वजन पर नियंत्रण रखें।
* अगर भूख नहीं ह,ै तो मत खाएं।
* आपके दोपहर व रात के खाने का तीन चौथाई हिस्सा सब्जियाँ, फल व अनाज का होना चाहिए।
* नियासिन का सेवन काफी लाभदायक है।
* हर रोज 30 मिनट हृदय संबंधी कसरत करे। चाहें, तो यह कसरत एक साथ कर लें या फिर थोड़े-थोड़े अंतराल में करे।
* शारीरिक गतिविधियां बढ़ायें जैसे आफिस या स्टोर तक पैदल जायें, सीढि़यों का इस्तेमाल करे, सैर या जॉगिंग करे।
[सविता महेश्वरी]
(डायटीशियन)
[समुचित खानपान]
हृदय के रोगी को ऐसा भोजन करना चाहिए जिसमें शुगर कम एवं फाइबर की मात्रा अधिक हो।
[आहार में शामिल करे]
फल, सब्जियाँ, अनाज, दालें, अण्डे की जर्दी , स्किम्ड मिल्क , खिचड़ी, उबले चावल, फ्रूट कस्टर्ड, पीले फल, कार्नफ्लेक्स, दलिया, हरी पत्तोदार सब्जियां, फलों का रस , अंकुरित दालें, पालक का सूप, उबले आलू, केला, बीन्स, टमाटर, खीरा, मूली, गाजर, लस्सी (नमक वाली), धनिया व पोदीना की चटनी।
[कम खायें या ना खायें]
मक्खन, मलाई वाला दूध, मीट, अंडे का पीला हिस्सा, क्रीम, चीज, खोया, आइसक्रीम, पनीर, मिठाई।
[निम्न पर ध्यान दें]
* खाना हर रोज निर्धारित समय पर ही भोजन करे।
* खाना हल्का और जल्दी पचने वाला होना चाहिए।
* भोजने को स्वादिष्ट बनाने के लिए नींबू, सिरका, इमली, हर्ब्स (जड़ी बूटियों), हल्के मसाले, प्याज, लहसुन का इस्तेमाल कर सकते है।
* भोजन धीरे-धीरे एवं चबाकर खायें।
* अपने वजन पर नियंत्रण रखें।
* अगर भूख नहीं ह,ै तो मत खाएं।
* आपके दोपहर व रात के खाने का तीन चौथाई हिस्सा सब्जियाँ, फल व अनाज का होना चाहिए।
* नियासिन का सेवन काफी लाभदायक है।
* हर रोज 30 मिनट हृदय संबंधी कसरत करे। चाहें, तो यह कसरत एक साथ कर लें या फिर थोड़े-थोड़े अंतराल में करे।
* शारीरिक गतिविधियां बढ़ायें जैसे आफिस या स्टोर तक पैदल जायें, सीढि़यों का इस्तेमाल करे, सैर या जॉगिंग करे।
[सविता महेश्वरी]
(डायटीशियन)
the philosophy of saint kabeer
Kabir attributed such great importance to humility for one who is in search of God that once he said that no price would be high enough to know the Ultimate Reality-not even that of cutting off one's own head in order to offer it on a silver platter at the feet of the master (This is the colorful description used by Kabir to depict the ultimate offering of a truth seeker; indicating that, in order to know God, we would have to sacrifice our pride; our fictitious identity; our sense or self-importance; our Ego).
Kabir was a Mystic of the highest order. As it is the case with all such mystics, he advocated vegetarianism, celibacy, the practice of meditation and the necessity of being initiated by a Perfect living Saint, as unavoidable requirements for achieving real spiritual evolution. He belonged to that rare breed of entities also known as Masters, Mystics, Prophets, Saints, Gurus, Fakirs, Murshids, Sheikhs, Messiahs, Dervishes, Zaddiks, etc. They are all direct incarnations of the Supreme Being. They have first-hand knowledge of reality, and can impart such wisdom to anyone of their choosing. They all exalt the virtues and importance of the primordial energy of creation-The dynamic form of God; the most precious commodity available anywhere. This entity has been referred to as Word, Holy Spirit, Holy Ghost, Audible Life Stream, Music of the Spheres, Heavenly Music, Music of Silence, Living Water, Creative Energy, Manna from Heaven, Philosopher's Stone (the elusive dream of the alchemists), Shabd, Nam, Logos, Truth, Kalma, Tao, Conscious Energy, and many other terms. Nobody can really describe it adequately.
The elevated beings cited above are always present in this world. However, they are not here to create new religions, nor to establish new political, social or economic orders. Furthermore, they are not here to wash the sins of humanity (as it is believed by the followers of certain religions. The fact that all of us are here is proof that our sins have never been washed); they do so only for their direct disciples. They repeatedly come here with only two missions-that of shedding light on the intended ultimate destiny of man, and that of gathering their allotted souls (the limited number of humans referred to in the Bible as "The Chosen Ones") in order to initiate them. After attracting such souls to themselves by mysterious and wondrous means, they initiate them, instruct them on the spiritual path, before they merge back into the infinite Ocean of Spirituality, whence they came. After initiation has taken place, it hardly matters if the disciple and/or the Master die, because the link established at the time of Initiation is eternal and indissoluble. It creates such an attachment between the two entities, that is capable of gradually detaching the disciples from all worldly ties, enabling their souls to ascend to higher regions, merge into the Master, and ultimately into God. That is the only way the Ultimate Reality can be realized.
The spiritual path most praised by mystics is known by various names, such as-The Path of the Masters, El Camino Real (the Royal Way), The Perennial Philosophy, the Tao Philosophy, the Yoga of the Audible Life Stream, Santon ki Shik-sha, Surat-Shabd Yoga, Sultan-ul-Azkar, Ism-I-Azam, the Science of the Soul and many others. No higher path exists. On this path, there are no failures. Every soul that has been initiated by a perfect living master will, in due time, inevitably rise to the highest level of creation. The only requirement is that the master should be a mystic of the highest order; that both master and disciple should be present in this world at the same time; and that the disciple agrees to do his/her best in order to follow the directions of the Divine Preceptor
All mystics lay great emphasis on one of the most important aspects of spirituality, namely-that past masters cannot help humans in any way, since they are no longer connected to this world; only living masters can do so. To corroborate such statements, we would like to mention two quotations, both from the New Testament, and both attributed to Christ. Here they are-"As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world". And again -" I can work only while it is day (while I am alive) (because), when night comes (after death), nobody can work".
The gist of the highest spiritual path is that the disciple must succeed in achieving two essential objectives-consciously separate the mind and the soul from the physical body through the practice of the right kind of meditation (which is known as "Dying while living"); and, subsequently, separate the soul from the mind (which is known as Self-Realization.) Only the successful completion of these two tasks will assure liberation, i.e. final and permanent immunity from the painful curse of rebirth.
Kabir was a Mystic of the highest order. As it is the case with all such mystics, he advocated vegetarianism, celibacy, the practice of meditation and the necessity of being initiated by a Perfect living Saint, as unavoidable requirements for achieving real spiritual evolution. He belonged to that rare breed of entities also known as Masters, Mystics, Prophets, Saints, Gurus, Fakirs, Murshids, Sheikhs, Messiahs, Dervishes, Zaddiks, etc. They are all direct incarnations of the Supreme Being. They have first-hand knowledge of reality, and can impart such wisdom to anyone of their choosing. They all exalt the virtues and importance of the primordial energy of creation-The dynamic form of God; the most precious commodity available anywhere. This entity has been referred to as Word, Holy Spirit, Holy Ghost, Audible Life Stream, Music of the Spheres, Heavenly Music, Music of Silence, Living Water, Creative Energy, Manna from Heaven, Philosopher's Stone (the elusive dream of the alchemists), Shabd, Nam, Logos, Truth, Kalma, Tao, Conscious Energy, and many other terms. Nobody can really describe it adequately.
The elevated beings cited above are always present in this world. However, they are not here to create new religions, nor to establish new political, social or economic orders. Furthermore, they are not here to wash the sins of humanity (as it is believed by the followers of certain religions. The fact that all of us are here is proof that our sins have never been washed); they do so only for their direct disciples. They repeatedly come here with only two missions-that of shedding light on the intended ultimate destiny of man, and that of gathering their allotted souls (the limited number of humans referred to in the Bible as "The Chosen Ones") in order to initiate them. After attracting such souls to themselves by mysterious and wondrous means, they initiate them, instruct them on the spiritual path, before they merge back into the infinite Ocean of Spirituality, whence they came. After initiation has taken place, it hardly matters if the disciple and/or the Master die, because the link established at the time of Initiation is eternal and indissoluble. It creates such an attachment between the two entities, that is capable of gradually detaching the disciples from all worldly ties, enabling their souls to ascend to higher regions, merge into the Master, and ultimately into God. That is the only way the Ultimate Reality can be realized.
The spiritual path most praised by mystics is known by various names, such as-The Path of the Masters, El Camino Real (the Royal Way), The Perennial Philosophy, the Tao Philosophy, the Yoga of the Audible Life Stream, Santon ki Shik-sha, Surat-Shabd Yoga, Sultan-ul-Azkar, Ism-I-Azam, the Science of the Soul and many others. No higher path exists. On this path, there are no failures. Every soul that has been initiated by a perfect living master will, in due time, inevitably rise to the highest level of creation. The only requirement is that the master should be a mystic of the highest order; that both master and disciple should be present in this world at the same time; and that the disciple agrees to do his/her best in order to follow the directions of the Divine Preceptor
All mystics lay great emphasis on one of the most important aspects of spirituality, namely-that past masters cannot help humans in any way, since they are no longer connected to this world; only living masters can do so. To corroborate such statements, we would like to mention two quotations, both from the New Testament, and both attributed to Christ. Here they are-"As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world". And again -" I can work only while it is day (while I am alive) (because), when night comes (after death), nobody can work".
The gist of the highest spiritual path is that the disciple must succeed in achieving two essential objectives-consciously separate the mind and the soul from the physical body through the practice of the right kind of meditation (which is known as "Dying while living"); and, subsequently, separate the soul from the mind (which is known as Self-Realization.) Only the successful completion of these two tasks will assure liberation, i.e. final and permanent immunity from the painful curse of rebirth.
saint kabeer
Religious affinity
Kabir did not classify himself as Hindu or Muslim, Sufi or Bhakta. The legends surrounding his lifetime attest to his strong aversion to established religions. From his poems, expressed in homely metaphors and religious symbols drawn indifferently from Hindu and Muslim belief, it is impossible to say of their author that he was Brâhman or Sûfî, Vedântist or Vaishnavite. He is, as he says himself, "at once the child of Allah and of Râm."[14] In fact, Kabir always insisted on the concept of Koi bole Ram Ram Koi Khudai..., which means that someone may chant the Hindu name of God and someone may chant the Muslim name of God, but God is the one who made the whole world.
In Kabir's wide and rapturous vision of the universe he never loses touch with the common life. His feet are firmly planted upon earth; his lofty and passionate apprehensions are perpetually controlled by the activity of a sane and vigorous intellect, by the alert commonsense so often found in persons of real mystical genius. The constant insistence on simplicity and directness, the hatred of all abstractions and philosophizings, the ruthless criticism of external religion: these are amongst his most marked characteristics. God is the Root whence all manifestations, "material" and "spiritual," alike proceed; and God is the only need of man: "Happiness shall be yours when you come to the Root." Hence, to those who keep their eye on the "one thing needful," denominations, creeds, ceremonies, the conclusions of philosophy, the disciplines of asceticism, are matters of comparative indifference. They represent merely the different angles from which the soul may approach that simple union with Brahma which is its goal, and are useful only insofar as they contribute to this consummation. So thorough-going is Kabîr's eclecticism, that he seems by turns Vedântist and Vaishnavite, Pantheist and Transcendentalist, Brahmin and Sûfî. In the effort to tell the truth about that ineffable apprehension, so vast and yet so near, which controls his life, he seizes and twines together—as he might have woven together contrasting threads upon his loom—symbols and ideas drawn from the most violent and conflicting philosophies and faiths.[14]
His birth and death are surrounded by legends, as nothing certain is known about his birth or death. He grew up in a Muslim weaver family, but some say he was really son of a Brahmin widow and was adopted by a childless couple.
One popular legend of his death, which is even taught in schools in India (although in more of a moral context than a historical one), says that after his death his Muslim and Hindu devotees fought over his proper burial rites. The problem arose since Muslim custom called for the burial of their dead, whereas Hindus cremated their dead. The scene is depicted as two groups fighting around his coffin one claiming that Kabir was a Hindu, and the other claiming that Kabir was a Muslim. However, when they finally open Kabir's coffin, they found the body missing. Instead there was a small book in which the Hindus and Muslims wrote all his sayings that they could remember; some even say a bunch of his favourite flowers were placed. The legend goes on to state that the fighting was resolved, and both groups looked upon the miracle as an act of divine intervention. In Maghar, his tomb or Dargah and Samadhi Mandir still stand side by side. [15]
Another legend surrounding Kabir is that shortly before death he bathed in both the river Ganges and Karmnasha to wash away both his good deeds and his sins.
Kabir did not classify himself as Hindu or Muslim, Sufi or Bhakta. The legends surrounding his lifetime attest to his strong aversion to established religions. From his poems, expressed in homely metaphors and religious symbols drawn indifferently from Hindu and Muslim belief, it is impossible to say of their author that he was Brâhman or Sûfî, Vedântist or Vaishnavite. He is, as he says himself, "at once the child of Allah and of Râm."[14] In fact, Kabir always insisted on the concept of Koi bole Ram Ram Koi Khudai..., which means that someone may chant the Hindu name of God and someone may chant the Muslim name of God, but God is the one who made the whole world.
In Kabir's wide and rapturous vision of the universe he never loses touch with the common life. His feet are firmly planted upon earth; his lofty and passionate apprehensions are perpetually controlled by the activity of a sane and vigorous intellect, by the alert commonsense so often found in persons of real mystical genius. The constant insistence on simplicity and directness, the hatred of all abstractions and philosophizings, the ruthless criticism of external religion: these are amongst his most marked characteristics. God is the Root whence all manifestations, "material" and "spiritual," alike proceed; and God is the only need of man: "Happiness shall be yours when you come to the Root." Hence, to those who keep their eye on the "one thing needful," denominations, creeds, ceremonies, the conclusions of philosophy, the disciplines of asceticism, are matters of comparative indifference. They represent merely the different angles from which the soul may approach that simple union with Brahma which is its goal, and are useful only insofar as they contribute to this consummation. So thorough-going is Kabîr's eclecticism, that he seems by turns Vedântist and Vaishnavite, Pantheist and Transcendentalist, Brahmin and Sûfî. In the effort to tell the truth about that ineffable apprehension, so vast and yet so near, which controls his life, he seizes and twines together—as he might have woven together contrasting threads upon his loom—symbols and ideas drawn from the most violent and conflicting philosophies and faiths.[14]
His birth and death are surrounded by legends, as nothing certain is known about his birth or death. He grew up in a Muslim weaver family, but some say he was really son of a Brahmin widow and was adopted by a childless couple.
One popular legend of his death, which is even taught in schools in India (although in more of a moral context than a historical one), says that after his death his Muslim and Hindu devotees fought over his proper burial rites. The problem arose since Muslim custom called for the burial of their dead, whereas Hindus cremated their dead. The scene is depicted as two groups fighting around his coffin one claiming that Kabir was a Hindu, and the other claiming that Kabir was a Muslim. However, when they finally open Kabir's coffin, they found the body missing. Instead there was a small book in which the Hindus and Muslims wrote all his sayings that they could remember; some even say a bunch of his favourite flowers were placed. The legend goes on to state that the fighting was resolved, and both groups looked upon the miracle as an act of divine intervention. In Maghar, his tomb or Dargah and Samadhi Mandir still stand side by side. [15]
Another legend surrounding Kabir is that shortly before death he bathed in both the river Ganges and Karmnasha to wash away both his good deeds and his sins.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
अनावश्यक चीजों पर ध्यान
परमहंस योगानंद ने कहा है-
आप भविष्य की चिंता क्यों नहीं करते? आप अनावश्यक चीजों को इतना महत्व क्यों देते हैं? अधिकांश लोग सुबह, दोपहर व रात के भोजन, काम- काज, सामािजक कार्य कलापों आदि में ही व्यस्त रहते हैं। अपने जीवन को अौर ज्यादा सरल बनाइए तथा अपना संपूर्ण ध्यान ईश्वर में केंिद्रत कीजिए। यह संसार ईश्वर के पास वापस पहुंचने की तैयारी करने का स्थान है। ईश्वर यह जानना चाहते हैं कि हम उन्हें उनके उपहारों से अधिक चाहते हैं या नहीं। यानी हम ईश्वर के उपहारों को ज्यादा महत्व दे रहे हैं या उपहार देने वाले को यानी ईश्वर को। ईश्वर हमारे पिता हैं अौर हम सब उनकी संतान हैं। हमारे प्रेम पर उनका अधिकार है अौर उनके प्रेम पर हमारा अधिकार है। हमारे कष्ट इसलिए उत्पन्न होते हैं कि हम उनकी यानी ईश्वर की अवहेलना करते हैं। परंतु वे सदैव हमारा इंतजार कर रहे हैं।
- प्रस्तुति- विनय बिहारी सिंह, कोलकाता
आप भविष्य की चिंता क्यों नहीं करते? आप अनावश्यक चीजों को इतना महत्व क्यों देते हैं? अधिकांश लोग सुबह, दोपहर व रात के भोजन, काम- काज, सामािजक कार्य कलापों आदि में ही व्यस्त रहते हैं। अपने जीवन को अौर ज्यादा सरल बनाइए तथा अपना संपूर्ण ध्यान ईश्वर में केंिद्रत कीजिए। यह संसार ईश्वर के पास वापस पहुंचने की तैयारी करने का स्थान है। ईश्वर यह जानना चाहते हैं कि हम उन्हें उनके उपहारों से अधिक चाहते हैं या नहीं। यानी हम ईश्वर के उपहारों को ज्यादा महत्व दे रहे हैं या उपहार देने वाले को यानी ईश्वर को। ईश्वर हमारे पिता हैं अौर हम सब उनकी संतान हैं। हमारे प्रेम पर उनका अधिकार है अौर उनके प्रेम पर हमारा अधिकार है। हमारे कष्ट इसलिए उत्पन्न होते हैं कि हम उनकी यानी ईश्वर की अवहेलना करते हैं। परंतु वे सदैव हमारा इंतजार कर रहे हैं।
- प्रस्तुति- विनय बिहारी सिंह, कोलकाता
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
आर्थिक मंदी तो कहीं दिखी नहीं
आर्थिक मंदी तो कहीं दिखी नहीं
लोगों को पटाखे फोड़ते देख बिल्कुल नहीं लगा कि अपने देश की आर्थिक मंदी का असर है। खूब मिठाइयां बिकी। खूब पटाखे बिके। अगर मौज मजा में खर्च का एक रुपया भी हर आदमी निकाल ले तो मिला जुला कर समाज. प्रदेश या देश के लिए बहुत कुछ किया जा सकता है। लेकिन इस तरह लोग सोचते क्यों नहीं?
- विनय बिहारी सिंह
लोगों को पटाखे फोड़ते देख बिल्कुल नहीं लगा कि अपने देश की आर्थिक मंदी का असर है। खूब मिठाइयां बिकी। खूब पटाखे बिके। अगर मौज मजा में खर्च का एक रुपया भी हर आदमी निकाल ले तो मिला जुला कर समाज. प्रदेश या देश के लिए बहुत कुछ किया जा सकता है। लेकिन इस तरह लोग सोचते क्यों नहीं?
- विनय बिहारी सिंह
ईश्वर के साथ बातचीत एक वास्तविकता
परमहंस योगानंद ने लिखा है-
ईश्वर के साथ बातचीत एक वास्तविकता है। उन्होने लिखा है कि जब वे भारत में थे (वे अमेरिका में रहते थे ताकि योग विद्या को पशिचमी देशों में फैलाया जा सके) तो उन्होंने उन संतों को देखा था जो परम पिता के साथ बातचीत करते थे। बातचीत करने वाले लम्हे में भी परमहंस जी मौजूद थे। परमहंस योगानंद लिखा है कि आप सब भी ईश्वर से बातचीत कर सकते हैं। एकतरफा बातचीत नहीं, वास्तविक बातचीत। ईश्वर से बातचीत में ईश्वर से उत्तर भी मिलता है। वे उत्तर देते हैं। हर आदमी ईश्वर से बातचीत कर सकता है। हम भगवान को उत्तर देने के लिए प्रेरित कर सकते हैं। हम संदेह क्यों करें। संसार के धमॆग्रंथ भगवान अौर मनुष्य के बातचीत के उदाहरणों से भरे पड़े हैं।
परमहंस योगानंद की पुस्तक- ईश्वर से वाऱतालाप की विधि से साभार
ईश्वर के साथ बातचीत एक वास्तविकता है। उन्होने लिखा है कि जब वे भारत में थे (वे अमेरिका में रहते थे ताकि योग विद्या को पशिचमी देशों में फैलाया जा सके) तो उन्होंने उन संतों को देखा था जो परम पिता के साथ बातचीत करते थे। बातचीत करने वाले लम्हे में भी परमहंस जी मौजूद थे। परमहंस योगानंद लिखा है कि आप सब भी ईश्वर से बातचीत कर सकते हैं। एकतरफा बातचीत नहीं, वास्तविक बातचीत। ईश्वर से बातचीत में ईश्वर से उत्तर भी मिलता है। वे उत्तर देते हैं। हर आदमी ईश्वर से बातचीत कर सकता है। हम भगवान को उत्तर देने के लिए प्रेरित कर सकते हैं। हम संदेह क्यों करें। संसार के धमॆग्रंथ भगवान अौर मनुष्य के बातचीत के उदाहरणों से भरे पड़े हैं।
परमहंस योगानंद की पुस्तक- ईश्वर से वाऱतालाप की विधि से साभार
Monday, October 27, 2008
surprising event
Autobiography of a Yogi
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 18
A Mohammedan Wonder-Worker
"Years ago, right in this very room you now occupy, a Mohammedan wonder-worker performed four miracles before me!"
Sri Yukteswar made this surprising statement during his first visit to my new quarters. Immediately after entering Serampore College, I had taken a room in a near-by boardinghouse, called Panthi. It was an old-fashioned brick mansion, fronting the Ganges.
"Master, what a coincidence! Are these newly decorated walls really ancient with memories?" I looked around my simply furnished room with awakened interest.
"It is a long story." My guru smiled reminiscently. "The name of the fakir1 was Afzal Khan. He had acquired his extraordinary powers through a chance encounter with a Hindu yogi.
"'Son, I am thirsty; fetch me some water.' A dust-covered sannyasi made this request of Afzal one day during his early boyhood in a small village of eastern Bengal.
"'Master, I am a Mohammedan. How could you, a Hindu, accept a drink from my hands?'
"'Your truthfulness pleases me, my child. I do not observe the ostracizing rules of ungodly sectarianism. Go; bring me water quickly.'
"Afzal's reverent obedience was rewarded by a loving glance from the yogi.
"'You possess good karma from former lives,' he observed solemnly. 'I am going to teach you a certain yoga method which will give you command over one of the invisible realms. The great powers that will be yours should be exercised for worthy ends; never employ them selfishly! I perceive, alas! that you have brought over from the past some seeds of destructive tendencies. Do not allow them to sprout by watering them with fresh evil actions. The complexity of your previous karma is such that you must use this life to reconcile your yogic accomplishments with the highest humanitarian goals.'
"After instructing the amazed boy in a complicated technique, the master vanished.
"Afzal faithfully followed his yoga exercise for twenty years. His miraculous feats began to attract widespread attention. It seems that he was always accompanied by a disembodied spirit whom he called 'Hazrat.' This invisible entity was able to fulfill the fakir's slightest wish.
"Ignoring his master's warning, Afzal began to misuse his powers. Whatever object he touched and then replaced would soon disappear without a trace. This disconcerting eventuality usually made the Mohammedan an objectionable guest!
"He visited large jewelry stores in Calcutta from time to time, representing himself as a possible purchaser. Any jewel he handled would vanish shortly after he had left the shop.
"Afzal was often surrounded by several hundred students, attracted by the hope of learning his secrets. The fakir occasionally invited them to travel with him. At the railway station he would manage to touch a roll of tickets. These he would return to the clerk, remarking: 'I have changed my mind, and won't buy them now.' But when he boarded the train with his retinue, Afzal would be in possession of the required tickets. 2
"These exploits created an indignant uproar; Bengali jewelers and ticket-sellers were succumbing to nervous breakdowns! The police who sought to arrest Afzal found themselves helpless; the fakir could remove incriminating evidence merely by saying: 'Hazrat, take this away.'"
Sri Yukteswar rose from his seat and walked to the balcony of my room which overlooked the Ganges. I followed him, eager to hear more of the baffling Mohammedan Raffles.
"This Panthi house formerly belonged to a friend of mine. He became acquainted with Afzal and asked him here. My friend also invited about twenty neighbors, including myself. I was only a youth then, and felt a lively curiosity about the notorious fakir." Master laughed. "I took the precaution of not wearing anything valuable! Afzal looked me over inquisitively, then remarked:
"'You have powerful hands. Go downstairs to the garden; get a smooth stone and write your name on it with chalk; then throw the stone as far as possible into the Ganges.'
"I obeyed. As soon as the stone had vanished under distant waves, the Mohammedan addressed me again:
"'Fill a pot with Ganges water near the front of this house.'
"After I had returned with a vessel of water, the fakir cried, 'Hazrat, put the stone in the pot!'
"The stone appeared at once. I pulled it from the vessel and found my signature as legible as when I had written it.
"Babu,3 one of my friends in the room, was wearing a heavy antique gold watch and chain. The fakir examined them with ominous admiration. Soon they were missing!
"'Afzal, please return my prized heirloom!' Babu was nearly in tears.
"The Mohammedan was stoically silent for awhile, then said, 'You have five hundred rupees in an iron safe. Bring them to me, and I will tell you where to locate your timepiece.'
"The distraught Babu left immediately for his home. He came back shortly and handed Afzal the required sum.
"'Go to the little bridge near your house,' the fakir instructed Babu. 'Call on Hazrat to give you the watch and chain.'
"Babu rushed away. On his return, he was wearing a smile of relief and no jewelry whatever.
"'When I commanded Hazrat as directed,' he announced, 'my watch came tumbling down from the air into my right hand! You may be sure I locked the heirloom in my safe before rejoining the group here!'
"Babu's friends, witnesses of the comicotragedy of the ransom for a watch, were staring with resentment at Afzal. He now spoke placatingly.
"'Please name any drink you want; Hazrat will produce it.'
"A number asked for milk, others for fruit juices. I was not too much shocked when the unnerved Babu requested whisky! The Mohammedan gave an order; the obliging Hazrat sent sealed containers sailing down the air and thudding to the floor. Each man found his desired beverage.
"The promise of the fourth spectacular feat of the day was doubtless gratifying to our host: Afzal offered to supply an instantaneous lunch!
"'Let us order the most expensive dishes,' Babu suggested gloomily. 'I want an elaborate meal for my five hundred rupees! Everything should be served on gold plates!'
"As soon as each man had expressed his preferences, the fakir addressed himself to the inexhaustible Hazrat. A great rattle ensued; gold platters filled with intricately-prepared curries, hot luchis, and many out-of-season fruits, landed from nowhere at our feet. All the food was delicious. After feasting for an hour, we started to leave the room. A tremendous noise, as though dishes were being piled up, caused us to turn around. Lo! there was no sign of the glittering plates or the remnants of the meal."
"Guruji," I interrupted, "if Afzal could easily secure such things as gold dishes, why did he covet the property of others?"
"The fakir was not highly developed spiritually," Sri Yukteswar explained. "His mastery of a certain yoga technique gave him access to an astral plane where any desire is immediately materialized. Through the agency of an astral being, Hazrat, the Mohammedan could summon the atoms of any object from etheric energy by an act of powerful will. But such astrally-produced objects are structurally evanescent; they cannot be long retained. Afzal still yearned for worldly wealth which, though more hardly earned, has a more dependable durability."
I laughed. "It too sometimes vanishes most unaccountably!"
"Afzal was not a man of God-realization," Master went on. "Miracles of a permanent and beneficial nature are performed by true saints because they have attuned themselves to the omnipotent Creator. Afzal was merely an ordinary man with an extraordinary power of penetrating a subtle realm not usually entered by mortals until death."
"I understand now, Guruji. The after-world appears to have some charming features."
Master agreed. "I never saw Afzal after that day, but a few years later Babu came to my home to show me a newspaper account of the Mohammedan's public confession. From it I learned the facts I have just told you about Afzal's early initiation from a Hindu guru."
The gist of the latter part of the published document, as recalled by Sri Yukteswar, was as follows: "I, Afzal Khan, am writing these words as an act of penance and as a warning to those who seek the possession of miraculous powers. For years I have been misusing the wondrous abilities imparted to me through the grace of God and my master. I became drunk with egotism, feeling that I was beyond the ordinary laws of morality. My day of reckoning finally arrived.
"Recently I met an old man on a road outside Calcutta. He limped along painfully, carrying a shining object which looked like gold. I addressed him with greed in my heart.
"'I am Afzal Khan, the great fakir. What have you there?'
"'This ball of gold is my sole material wealth; it can be of no interest to a fakir. I implore you, sir, to heal my limp.'
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 18
A Mohammedan Wonder-Worker
"Years ago, right in this very room you now occupy, a Mohammedan wonder-worker performed four miracles before me!"
Sri Yukteswar made this surprising statement during his first visit to my new quarters. Immediately after entering Serampore College, I had taken a room in a near-by boardinghouse, called Panthi. It was an old-fashioned brick mansion, fronting the Ganges.
"Master, what a coincidence! Are these newly decorated walls really ancient with memories?" I looked around my simply furnished room with awakened interest.
"It is a long story." My guru smiled reminiscently. "The name of the fakir1 was Afzal Khan. He had acquired his extraordinary powers through a chance encounter with a Hindu yogi.
"'Son, I am thirsty; fetch me some water.' A dust-covered sannyasi made this request of Afzal one day during his early boyhood in a small village of eastern Bengal.
"'Master, I am a Mohammedan. How could you, a Hindu, accept a drink from my hands?'
"'Your truthfulness pleases me, my child. I do not observe the ostracizing rules of ungodly sectarianism. Go; bring me water quickly.'
"Afzal's reverent obedience was rewarded by a loving glance from the yogi.
"'You possess good karma from former lives,' he observed solemnly. 'I am going to teach you a certain yoga method which will give you command over one of the invisible realms. The great powers that will be yours should be exercised for worthy ends; never employ them selfishly! I perceive, alas! that you have brought over from the past some seeds of destructive tendencies. Do not allow them to sprout by watering them with fresh evil actions. The complexity of your previous karma is such that you must use this life to reconcile your yogic accomplishments with the highest humanitarian goals.'
"After instructing the amazed boy in a complicated technique, the master vanished.
"Afzal faithfully followed his yoga exercise for twenty years. His miraculous feats began to attract widespread attention. It seems that he was always accompanied by a disembodied spirit whom he called 'Hazrat.' This invisible entity was able to fulfill the fakir's slightest wish.
"Ignoring his master's warning, Afzal began to misuse his powers. Whatever object he touched and then replaced would soon disappear without a trace. This disconcerting eventuality usually made the Mohammedan an objectionable guest!
"He visited large jewelry stores in Calcutta from time to time, representing himself as a possible purchaser. Any jewel he handled would vanish shortly after he had left the shop.
"Afzal was often surrounded by several hundred students, attracted by the hope of learning his secrets. The fakir occasionally invited them to travel with him. At the railway station he would manage to touch a roll of tickets. These he would return to the clerk, remarking: 'I have changed my mind, and won't buy them now.' But when he boarded the train with his retinue, Afzal would be in possession of the required tickets. 2
"These exploits created an indignant uproar; Bengali jewelers and ticket-sellers were succumbing to nervous breakdowns! The police who sought to arrest Afzal found themselves helpless; the fakir could remove incriminating evidence merely by saying: 'Hazrat, take this away.'"
Sri Yukteswar rose from his seat and walked to the balcony of my room which overlooked the Ganges. I followed him, eager to hear more of the baffling Mohammedan Raffles.
"This Panthi house formerly belonged to a friend of mine. He became acquainted with Afzal and asked him here. My friend also invited about twenty neighbors, including myself. I was only a youth then, and felt a lively curiosity about the notorious fakir." Master laughed. "I took the precaution of not wearing anything valuable! Afzal looked me over inquisitively, then remarked:
"'You have powerful hands. Go downstairs to the garden; get a smooth stone and write your name on it with chalk; then throw the stone as far as possible into the Ganges.'
"I obeyed. As soon as the stone had vanished under distant waves, the Mohammedan addressed me again:
"'Fill a pot with Ganges water near the front of this house.'
"After I had returned with a vessel of water, the fakir cried, 'Hazrat, put the stone in the pot!'
"The stone appeared at once. I pulled it from the vessel and found my signature as legible as when I had written it.
"Babu,3 one of my friends in the room, was wearing a heavy antique gold watch and chain. The fakir examined them with ominous admiration. Soon they were missing!
"'Afzal, please return my prized heirloom!' Babu was nearly in tears.
"The Mohammedan was stoically silent for awhile, then said, 'You have five hundred rupees in an iron safe. Bring them to me, and I will tell you where to locate your timepiece.'
"The distraught Babu left immediately for his home. He came back shortly and handed Afzal the required sum.
"'Go to the little bridge near your house,' the fakir instructed Babu. 'Call on Hazrat to give you the watch and chain.'
"Babu rushed away. On his return, he was wearing a smile of relief and no jewelry whatever.
"'When I commanded Hazrat as directed,' he announced, 'my watch came tumbling down from the air into my right hand! You may be sure I locked the heirloom in my safe before rejoining the group here!'
"Babu's friends, witnesses of the comicotragedy of the ransom for a watch, were staring with resentment at Afzal. He now spoke placatingly.
"'Please name any drink you want; Hazrat will produce it.'
"A number asked for milk, others for fruit juices. I was not too much shocked when the unnerved Babu requested whisky! The Mohammedan gave an order; the obliging Hazrat sent sealed containers sailing down the air and thudding to the floor. Each man found his desired beverage.
"The promise of the fourth spectacular feat of the day was doubtless gratifying to our host: Afzal offered to supply an instantaneous lunch!
"'Let us order the most expensive dishes,' Babu suggested gloomily. 'I want an elaborate meal for my five hundred rupees! Everything should be served on gold plates!'
"As soon as each man had expressed his preferences, the fakir addressed himself to the inexhaustible Hazrat. A great rattle ensued; gold platters filled with intricately-prepared curries, hot luchis, and many out-of-season fruits, landed from nowhere at our feet. All the food was delicious. After feasting for an hour, we started to leave the room. A tremendous noise, as though dishes were being piled up, caused us to turn around. Lo! there was no sign of the glittering plates or the remnants of the meal."
"Guruji," I interrupted, "if Afzal could easily secure such things as gold dishes, why did he covet the property of others?"
"The fakir was not highly developed spiritually," Sri Yukteswar explained. "His mastery of a certain yoga technique gave him access to an astral plane where any desire is immediately materialized. Through the agency of an astral being, Hazrat, the Mohammedan could summon the atoms of any object from etheric energy by an act of powerful will. But such astrally-produced objects are structurally evanescent; they cannot be long retained. Afzal still yearned for worldly wealth which, though more hardly earned, has a more dependable durability."
I laughed. "It too sometimes vanishes most unaccountably!"
"Afzal was not a man of God-realization," Master went on. "Miracles of a permanent and beneficial nature are performed by true saints because they have attuned themselves to the omnipotent Creator. Afzal was merely an ordinary man with an extraordinary power of penetrating a subtle realm not usually entered by mortals until death."
"I understand now, Guruji. The after-world appears to have some charming features."
Master agreed. "I never saw Afzal after that day, but a few years later Babu came to my home to show me a newspaper account of the Mohammedan's public confession. From it I learned the facts I have just told you about Afzal's early initiation from a Hindu guru."
The gist of the latter part of the published document, as recalled by Sri Yukteswar, was as follows: "I, Afzal Khan, am writing these words as an act of penance and as a warning to those who seek the possession of miraculous powers. For years I have been misusing the wondrous abilities imparted to me through the grace of God and my master. I became drunk with egotism, feeling that I was beyond the ordinary laws of morality. My day of reckoning finally arrived.
"Recently I met an old man on a road outside Calcutta. He limped along painfully, carrying a shining object which looked like gold. I addressed him with greed in my heart.
"'I am Afzal Khan, the great fakir. What have you there?'
"'This ball of gold is my sole material wealth; it can be of no interest to a fakir. I implore you, sir, to heal my limp.'
Saturday, October 25, 2008
one more miracle
Autobiography of a Yogi
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 17
Sasi and the Three Sapphires
"Because you and my son think so highly of Swami Sri Yukteswar, I will take a look at him." The tone of voice used by Dr. Narayan Chunder Roy implied that he was humoring the whim of half-wits. I concealed my indignation, in the best traditions of the proselyter.
My companion, a veterinary surgeon, was a confirmed agnostic. His young son Santosh had implored me to take an interest in his father. So far my invaluable aid had been a bit on the invisible side.
Dr. Roy accompanied me the following day to the Serampore hermitage. After Master had granted him a brief interview, marked for the most part by stoic silence on both sides, the visitor brusquely departed.
"Why bring a dead man to the ashram?" Sri Yukteswar looked at me inquiringly as soon as the door had closed on the Calcutta skeptic.
"Sir! The doctor is very much alive!"
"But in a short time he will be dead."
I was shocked. "Sir, this will be a terrible blow to his son. Santosh yet hopes for time to change his father's materialistic views. I beseech you, Master, to help the man."
"Very well; for your sake." My guru's face was impassive. "The proud horse doctor is far gone in diabetes, although he does not know it. In fifteen days he will take to his bed. The physicians will give him up for lost; his natural time to leave this earth is six weeks from today. Due to your intercession, however, on that date he will recover. But there is one condition. You must get him to wear an astrological bangle; he will doubtless object as violently as one of his horses before an operation!" Master chuckled.
After a silence, during which I wondered how Santosh and I could best employ the arts of cajolery on the recalcitrant doctor, Sri Yukteswar made further disclosures.
"As soon as the man gets well, advise him not to eat meat. He will not heed this counsel, however, and in six months, just as he is feeling at his best, he will drop dead. Even that six-month extension of life is granted him only because of your plea."
The following day I suggested to Santosh that he order an armlet at the jeweler's. It was ready in a week, but Dr. Roy refused to put it on.
"I am in the best of health. You will never impress me with these astrological superstitions." The doctor glanced at me belligerently.
I recalled with amusement that Master had justifiably compared the man to a balky horse. Another seven days passed; the doctor, suddenly ill, meekly consented to wear the bangle. Two weeks later the physician in attendance told me that his patient's case was hopeless. He supplied harrowing details of the ravages inflicted by diabetes.
I shook my head. "My guru has said that, after a sickness lasting one month, Dr. Roy will be well."
The physician stared at me incredulously. But he sought me out a fortnight later, with an apologetic air.
"Dr. Roy has made a complete recovery!" he exclaimed. "It is the most amazing case in my experience. Never before have I seen a dying man show such an inexplicable comeback. Your guru must indeed be a healing prophet!"
After one interview with Dr. Roy, during which I repeated Sri Yukteswar's advice about a meatless diet, I did not see the man again for six months. He stopped for a chat one evening as I sat on the piazza of my family home on Gurpar Road.
"Tell your teacher that by eating meat frequently, I have wholly regained my strength. His unscientific ideas on diet have not influenced me." It was true that Dr. Roy looked a picture of health.
But the next day Santosh came running to me from his home on the next block. "This morning Father dropped dead!"
This case was one of my strangest experiences with Master. He healed the rebellious veterinary surgeon in spite of his disbelief, and extended the man's natural term on earth by six months, just because of my earnest supplication. Sri Yukteswar was boundless in his kindness when confronted by the urgent prayer of a devotee.
It was my proudest privilege to bring college friends to meet my guru. Many of them would lay aside÷at least in the ashram!÷their fashionable academic cloak of religious skepticism.
One of my friends, Sasi, spent a number of happy week ends in Serampore. Master became immensely fond of the boy, and lamented that his private life was wild and disorderly.
"Sasi, unless you reform, one year hence you will be dangerously ill." Sri Yukteswar gazed at my friend with affectionate exasperation. "Mukunda is the witness: don't say later that I didn't warn you."
Sasi laughed. "Master, I will leave it to you to interest a sweet charity of cosmos in my own sad case! My spirit is willing but my will is weak. You are my only savior on earth; I believe in nothing else."
"At least you should wear a two-carat blue sapphire. It will help you."
"I can't afford one. Anyhow, dear guruji, if trouble comes, I fully believe you will protect me."
"In a year you will bring three sapphires," Sri Yukteswar replied cryptically. "They will be of no use then."
Variations on this conversation took place regularly. "I can't reform!" Sasi would say in comical despair. "And my trust in you, Master, is more precious to me than any stone!"
A year later I was visiting my guru at the Calcutta home of his disciple, Naren Babu. About ten o'clock in the morning, as Sri Yukteswar and I were sitting quietly in the second-floor parlor, I heard the front door open. Master straightened stiffly.
"It is that Sasi," he remarked gravely. "The year is now up; both his lungs are gone. He has ignored my counsel; tell him I don't want to see him."
Half stunned by Sri Yukteswar's sternness, I raced down the stairway. Sasi was ascending.
"O Mukunda! I do hope Master is here; I had a hunch he might be."
"Yes, but he doesn't wish to be disturbed."
Sasi burst into tears and brushed past me. He threw himself at Sri Yukteswar's feet, placing there three beautiful sapphires.
"Omniscient guru, the doctors say I have galloping tuberculosis! They give me no longer than three more months! I humbly implore your aid; I know you can heal me!"
"Isn't it a bit late now to be worrying over your life? Depart with your jewels; their time of usefulness is past." Master then sat sphinxlike in an unrelenting silence, punctuated by the boy's sobs for mercy.
An intuitive conviction came to me that Sri Yukteswar was merely testing the depth of Sasi's faith in the divine healing power. I was not surprised a tense hour later when Master turned a sympathetic gaze on my prostrate friend.
"Get up, Sasi; what a commotion you make in other people's houses! Return your sapphires to the jeweler's; they are an unnecessary expense now. But get an astrological bangle and wear it. Fear not; in a few weeks you shall be well."
Sasi's smile illumined his tear-marred face like sudden sun over a sodden landscape. "Beloved guru, shall I take the medicines prescribed by the doctors?"
Sri Yukteswar's glance was longanimous. "Just as you wish÷drink them or discard them; it does not matter. It is more possible for the sun and moon to interchange their positions than for you to die of tuberculosis." He added abruptly, "Go now, before I change my mind!"
With an agitated bow, my friend hastily departed. I visited him several times during the next few weeks, and was aghast to find his condition increasingly worse.
"Sasi cannot last through the night." These words from his physician, and the spectacle of my friend, now reduced almost to a skeleton, sent me posthaste to Serampore. My guru listened coldly to my tearful report.
"Why do you come here to bother me? You have already heard me assure Sasi of his recovery."
I bowed before him in great awe, and retreated to the door. Sri Yukteswar said no parting word, but sank into silence, his unwinking eyes half-open, their vision fled to another world.
I returned at once to Sasi's home in Calcutta. With astonishment I found my friend sitting up, drinking milk.
"O Mukunda! What a miracle! Four hours ago I felt Master's presence in the room; my terrible symptoms immediately disappeared. I feel that through his grace I am entirely well."
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 17
Sasi and the Three Sapphires
"Because you and my son think so highly of Swami Sri Yukteswar, I will take a look at him." The tone of voice used by Dr. Narayan Chunder Roy implied that he was humoring the whim of half-wits. I concealed my indignation, in the best traditions of the proselyter.
My companion, a veterinary surgeon, was a confirmed agnostic. His young son Santosh had implored me to take an interest in his father. So far my invaluable aid had been a bit on the invisible side.
Dr. Roy accompanied me the following day to the Serampore hermitage. After Master had granted him a brief interview, marked for the most part by stoic silence on both sides, the visitor brusquely departed.
"Why bring a dead man to the ashram?" Sri Yukteswar looked at me inquiringly as soon as the door had closed on the Calcutta skeptic.
"Sir! The doctor is very much alive!"
"But in a short time he will be dead."
I was shocked. "Sir, this will be a terrible blow to his son. Santosh yet hopes for time to change his father's materialistic views. I beseech you, Master, to help the man."
"Very well; for your sake." My guru's face was impassive. "The proud horse doctor is far gone in diabetes, although he does not know it. In fifteen days he will take to his bed. The physicians will give him up for lost; his natural time to leave this earth is six weeks from today. Due to your intercession, however, on that date he will recover. But there is one condition. You must get him to wear an astrological bangle; he will doubtless object as violently as one of his horses before an operation!" Master chuckled.
After a silence, during which I wondered how Santosh and I could best employ the arts of cajolery on the recalcitrant doctor, Sri Yukteswar made further disclosures.
"As soon as the man gets well, advise him not to eat meat. He will not heed this counsel, however, and in six months, just as he is feeling at his best, he will drop dead. Even that six-month extension of life is granted him only because of your plea."
The following day I suggested to Santosh that he order an armlet at the jeweler's. It was ready in a week, but Dr. Roy refused to put it on.
"I am in the best of health. You will never impress me with these astrological superstitions." The doctor glanced at me belligerently.
I recalled with amusement that Master had justifiably compared the man to a balky horse. Another seven days passed; the doctor, suddenly ill, meekly consented to wear the bangle. Two weeks later the physician in attendance told me that his patient's case was hopeless. He supplied harrowing details of the ravages inflicted by diabetes.
I shook my head. "My guru has said that, after a sickness lasting one month, Dr. Roy will be well."
The physician stared at me incredulously. But he sought me out a fortnight later, with an apologetic air.
"Dr. Roy has made a complete recovery!" he exclaimed. "It is the most amazing case in my experience. Never before have I seen a dying man show such an inexplicable comeback. Your guru must indeed be a healing prophet!"
After one interview with Dr. Roy, during which I repeated Sri Yukteswar's advice about a meatless diet, I did not see the man again for six months. He stopped for a chat one evening as I sat on the piazza of my family home on Gurpar Road.
"Tell your teacher that by eating meat frequently, I have wholly regained my strength. His unscientific ideas on diet have not influenced me." It was true that Dr. Roy looked a picture of health.
But the next day Santosh came running to me from his home on the next block. "This morning Father dropped dead!"
This case was one of my strangest experiences with Master. He healed the rebellious veterinary surgeon in spite of his disbelief, and extended the man's natural term on earth by six months, just because of my earnest supplication. Sri Yukteswar was boundless in his kindness when confronted by the urgent prayer of a devotee.
It was my proudest privilege to bring college friends to meet my guru. Many of them would lay aside÷at least in the ashram!÷their fashionable academic cloak of religious skepticism.
One of my friends, Sasi, spent a number of happy week ends in Serampore. Master became immensely fond of the boy, and lamented that his private life was wild and disorderly.
"Sasi, unless you reform, one year hence you will be dangerously ill." Sri Yukteswar gazed at my friend with affectionate exasperation. "Mukunda is the witness: don't say later that I didn't warn you."
Sasi laughed. "Master, I will leave it to you to interest a sweet charity of cosmos in my own sad case! My spirit is willing but my will is weak. You are my only savior on earth; I believe in nothing else."
"At least you should wear a two-carat blue sapphire. It will help you."
"I can't afford one. Anyhow, dear guruji, if trouble comes, I fully believe you will protect me."
"In a year you will bring three sapphires," Sri Yukteswar replied cryptically. "They will be of no use then."
Variations on this conversation took place regularly. "I can't reform!" Sasi would say in comical despair. "And my trust in you, Master, is more precious to me than any stone!"
A year later I was visiting my guru at the Calcutta home of his disciple, Naren Babu. About ten o'clock in the morning, as Sri Yukteswar and I were sitting quietly in the second-floor parlor, I heard the front door open. Master straightened stiffly.
"It is that Sasi," he remarked gravely. "The year is now up; both his lungs are gone. He has ignored my counsel; tell him I don't want to see him."
Half stunned by Sri Yukteswar's sternness, I raced down the stairway. Sasi was ascending.
"O Mukunda! I do hope Master is here; I had a hunch he might be."
"Yes, but he doesn't wish to be disturbed."
Sasi burst into tears and brushed past me. He threw himself at Sri Yukteswar's feet, placing there three beautiful sapphires.
"Omniscient guru, the doctors say I have galloping tuberculosis! They give me no longer than three more months! I humbly implore your aid; I know you can heal me!"
"Isn't it a bit late now to be worrying over your life? Depart with your jewels; their time of usefulness is past." Master then sat sphinxlike in an unrelenting silence, punctuated by the boy's sobs for mercy.
An intuitive conviction came to me that Sri Yukteswar was merely testing the depth of Sasi's faith in the divine healing power. I was not surprised a tense hour later when Master turned a sympathetic gaze on my prostrate friend.
"Get up, Sasi; what a commotion you make in other people's houses! Return your sapphires to the jeweler's; they are an unnecessary expense now. But get an astrological bangle and wear it. Fear not; in a few weeks you shall be well."
Sasi's smile illumined his tear-marred face like sudden sun over a sodden landscape. "Beloved guru, shall I take the medicines prescribed by the doctors?"
Sri Yukteswar's glance was longanimous. "Just as you wish÷drink them or discard them; it does not matter. It is more possible for the sun and moon to interchange their positions than for you to die of tuberculosis." He added abruptly, "Go now, before I change my mind!"
With an agitated bow, my friend hastily departed. I visited him several times during the next few weeks, and was aghast to find his condition increasingly worse.
"Sasi cannot last through the night." These words from his physician, and the spectacle of my friend, now reduced almost to a skeleton, sent me posthaste to Serampore. My guru listened coldly to my tearful report.
"Why do you come here to bother me? You have already heard me assure Sasi of his recovery."
I bowed before him in great awe, and retreated to the door. Sri Yukteswar said no parting word, but sank into silence, his unwinking eyes half-open, their vision fled to another world.
I returned at once to Sasi's home in Calcutta. With astonishment I found my friend sitting up, drinking milk.
"O Mukunda! What a miracle! Four hours ago I felt Master's presence in the room; my terrible symptoms immediately disappeared. I feel that through his grace I am entirely well."
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
the law of miracle
Autobiography of a Yogi
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 30
The Law of Miracles
The great novelist Leo Tolstoy wrote a delightful story, The Three Hermits. His friend Nicholas Roerich1 has summarized the tale, as follows:
"On an island there lived three old hermits. They were so simple that the only prayer they used was: 'We are three; Thou art Three-have mercy on us!' Great miracles were manifested during this naive prayer.
"The local bishop2 came to hear about the three hermits and their inadmissible prayer, and decided to visit them in order to teach them the canonical invocations. He arrived on the island, told the hermits that their heavenly petition was undignified, and taught them many of the customary prayers. The bishop then left on a boat. He saw, following the ship, a radiant light. As it approached, he discerned the three hermits, who were holding hands and running upon the waves in an effort to overtake the vessel.
"'We have forgotten the prayers you taught us,' they cried as they reached the bishop, 'and have hastened to ask you to repeat them.' The awed bishop shook his head.
"'Dear ones,' he replied humbly, 'continue to live with your old prayer!'"
How did the three saints walk on the water?
How did Christ resurrect his crucified body?
How did Lahiri Mahasaya and Sri Yukteswar perform their miracles?
Modern science has, as yet, no answer; though with the advent of the atomic bomb and the wonders of radar, the scope of the world-mind has been abruptly enlarged. The word "impossible" is becoming less prominent in the scientific vocabulary.
The ancient Vedic scriptures declare that the physical world operates under one fundamental law of maya, the principle of relativity and duality. God, the Sole Life, is an Absolute Unity; He cannot appear as the separate and diverse manifestations of a creation except under a false or unreal veil. That cosmic illusion is maya. Every great scientific discovery of modern times has served as a confirmation of this simple pronouncement of the rishis.
Newton's Law of Motion is a law of maya: "To every action there is always an equal and contrary reaction; the mutual actions of any two bodies are always equal and oppositely directed." Action and reaction are thus exactly equal. "To have a single force is impossible. There must be, and always is, a pair of forces equal and opposite."
Fundamental natural activities all betray their mayic origin. Electricity, for example, is a phenomenon of repulsion and attraction; its electrons and protons are electrical opposites. Another example: the atom or final particle of matter is, like the earth itself, a magnet with positive and negative poles. The entire phenomenal world is under the inexorable sway of polarity; no law of physics, chemistry, or any other science is ever found free from inherent opposite or contrasted principles.
Physical science, then, cannot formulate laws outside of maya, the very texture and structure of creation. Nature herself is maya; natural science must perforce deal with her ineluctable quiddity. In her own domain, she is eternal and inexhaustible; future scientists can do no more than probe one aspect after another of her varied infinitude. Science thus remains in a perpetual flux, unable to reach finality; fit indeed to formulate the laws of an already existing and functioning cosmos, but powerless to detect the Law Framer and Sole Operator. The majestic manifestations of gravitation and electricity have become known, but what gravitation and electricity are, no mortal knoweth. 3
To surmount maya was the task assigned to the human race by the millennial prophets. To rise above the duality of creation and perceive the unity of the Creator was conceived of as man's highest goal. Those who cling to the cosmic illusion must accept its essential law of polarity: flow and ebb, rise and fall, day and night, pleasure and pain, good and evil, birth and death. This cyclic pattern assumes a certain anguishing monotony, after man has gone through a few thousand human births; he begins to cast a hopeful eye beyond the compulsions of maya.
To tear the veil of maya is to pierce the secret of creation. The yogi who thus denudes the universe is the only true monotheist. All others are worshiping heathen images. So long as man remains subject to the dualistic delusions of nature, the Janus-faced Maya is his goddess; he cannot know the one true God.
The world illusion, maya, is individually called avidya, literally, "not-knowledge," ignorance, delusion. Maya or avidya can never be destroyed through intellectual conviction or analysis, but solely through attaining the interior state of nirbikalpa samadhi. The Old Testament prophets, and seers of all lands and ages, spoke from that state of consciousness. Ezekiel says (43:1-2): "Afterwards he brought me to the gate, even the gate that looketh toward the east: and, behold, the glory of the God of Israel came from the way of the east: and his voice was like a noise of many waters: and the earth shined with his glory." Through the divine eye in the forehead (east), the yogi sails his consciousness into omnipresence, hearing the Word or Aum, divine sound of many waters or vibrations which is the sole reality of creation.
Among the trillion mysteries of the cosmos, the most phenomenal is light. Unlike sound-waves, whose transmission requires air or other material media, light-waves pass freely through the vacuum of interstellar space. Even the hypothetical ether, held as the interplanetary medium of light in the undulatory theory, can be discarded on the Einsteinian grounds that the geometrical properties of space render the theory of ether unnecessary. Under either hypothesis, light remains the most subtle, the freest from material dependence, of any natural manifestation.
In the gigantic conceptions of Einstein, the velocity of light-186,000 miles per second-dominates the whole Theory of Relativity. He proves mathematically that the velocity of light is, so far as man's finite mind is concerned, the only constant in a universe of unstayable flux. On the sole absolute of light-velocity depend all human standards of time and space. Not abstractly eternal as hitherto considered, time and space are relative and finite factors, deriving their measurement validity only in reference to the yardstick of light-velocity. In joining space as a dimensional relativity, time has surrendered age-old claims to a changeless value. Time is now stripped to its rightful nature-a simple essence of ambiguity! With a few equational strokes of his pen, Einstein has banished from the cosmos every fixed reality except that of light.
In a later development, his Unified Field Theory, the great physicist embodies in one mathematical formula the laws of gravitation and of electromagnetism. Reducing the cosmical structure to variations on a single law, Einstein4 reaches across the ages to the rishis who proclaimed a sole texture of creation-that of a protean maya.
On the epochal Theory of Relativity have arisen the mathematical possibilities of exploring the ultimate atom. Great scientists are now boldly asserting not only that the atom is energy rather than matter, but that atomic energy is essentially mind-stuff.
"The frank realization that physical science is concerned with a world of shadows is one of the most significant advances," Sir Arthur Stanley Eddington writes in The Nature of the Physical World. "In the world of physics we watch a shadowgraph performance of the drama of familiar life. The shadow of my elbow rests on the shadow table as the shadow ink flows over the shadow paper. It is all symbolic, and as a symbol the physicist leaves it. Then comes the alchemist Mind who transmutes the symbols. . . . To put the conclusion crudely, the stuff of the world is mind-stuff. . . . The realistic matter and fields of force of former physical theory are altogether irrelevant except in so far as the mind-stuff has itself spun these imaginings. . . . The external world has thus become a world of shadows. In removing our illusions we have removed the substance, for indeed we have seen that substance is one of the greatest of our illusions."
With the recent discovery of the electron microscope came definite proof of the light-essence of atoms and of the inescapable duality of nature. The New York Times gave the following report of a 1937 demonstration of the electron microscope before a meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science:
"The crystalline structure of tungsten, hitherto known only indirectly by means of X-rays, stood outlined boldly on a fluorescent screen, showing nine atoms in their correct positions in the space lattice, a cube, with one atom in each corner and one in the center. The atoms in the crystal lattice of the tungsten appeared on the fluorescent screen as points of light, arranged in geometric pattern. Against this crystal cube of light the bombarding molecules of air could be observed as dancing points of light, similar to points of sunlight shimmering on moving waters. . . .
"The principle of the electron microscope was first discovered in 1927 by Drs. Clinton J. Davisson and Lester H. Germer of the Bell Telephone Laboratories, New York City, who found that the electron had a dual personality partaking of the characteristic of both a particle and a wave. The wave quality gave the electron the characteristic of light, and a search was begun to devise means for 'focusing' electrons in a manner similar to the focusing of light by means of a lens.
"For his discovery of the Jekyll-Hyde quality of the electron, which corroborated the prediction made in 1924 by De Broglie, French Nobel Prize winning physicist, and showed that the entire realm of physical nature had a dual personality, Dr. Davisson also received the Nobel Prize in physics."
"The stream of knowledge," Sir James Jeans writes in The Mysterious Universe, "is heading towards a non-mechanical reality; the universe begins to look more like a great thought than like a great machine." Twentieth-century science is thus sounding like a page from the hoary Vedas.
From science, then, if it must be so, let man learn the philosophic truth that there is no material universe; its warp and woof is maya, illusion. Its mirages of reality all break down under analysis. As one by one the reassuring props of a physical cosmos crash beneath him, man dimly perceives his idolatrous reliance, his past transgression of the divine command: "Thou shalt have no other gods before Me."
In his famous equation outlining the equivalence of mass and energy, Einstein proved that the energy in any particle of matter is equal to its mass or weight multiplied by the square of the velocity of light. The release of the atomic energies is brought about through the annihilation of the material particles. The "death" of matter has been the "birth" of an Atomic Age.
Light-velocity is a mathematical standard or constant not because there is an absolute value in 186,000 miles a second, but because no material body, whose mass increases with its velocity, can ever attain the velocity of light. Stated another way: only a material body whose mass is infinite could equal the velocity of light.
This conception brings us to the law of miracles.
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 30
The Law of Miracles
The great novelist Leo Tolstoy wrote a delightful story, The Three Hermits. His friend Nicholas Roerich1 has summarized the tale, as follows:
"On an island there lived three old hermits. They were so simple that the only prayer they used was: 'We are three; Thou art Three-have mercy on us!' Great miracles were manifested during this naive prayer.
"The local bishop2 came to hear about the three hermits and their inadmissible prayer, and decided to visit them in order to teach them the canonical invocations. He arrived on the island, told the hermits that their heavenly petition was undignified, and taught them many of the customary prayers. The bishop then left on a boat. He saw, following the ship, a radiant light. As it approached, he discerned the three hermits, who were holding hands and running upon the waves in an effort to overtake the vessel.
"'We have forgotten the prayers you taught us,' they cried as they reached the bishop, 'and have hastened to ask you to repeat them.' The awed bishop shook his head.
"'Dear ones,' he replied humbly, 'continue to live with your old prayer!'"
How did the three saints walk on the water?
How did Christ resurrect his crucified body?
How did Lahiri Mahasaya and Sri Yukteswar perform their miracles?
Modern science has, as yet, no answer; though with the advent of the atomic bomb and the wonders of radar, the scope of the world-mind has been abruptly enlarged. The word "impossible" is becoming less prominent in the scientific vocabulary.
The ancient Vedic scriptures declare that the physical world operates under one fundamental law of maya, the principle of relativity and duality. God, the Sole Life, is an Absolute Unity; He cannot appear as the separate and diverse manifestations of a creation except under a false or unreal veil. That cosmic illusion is maya. Every great scientific discovery of modern times has served as a confirmation of this simple pronouncement of the rishis.
Newton's Law of Motion is a law of maya: "To every action there is always an equal and contrary reaction; the mutual actions of any two bodies are always equal and oppositely directed." Action and reaction are thus exactly equal. "To have a single force is impossible. There must be, and always is, a pair of forces equal and opposite."
Fundamental natural activities all betray their mayic origin. Electricity, for example, is a phenomenon of repulsion and attraction; its electrons and protons are electrical opposites. Another example: the atom or final particle of matter is, like the earth itself, a magnet with positive and negative poles. The entire phenomenal world is under the inexorable sway of polarity; no law of physics, chemistry, or any other science is ever found free from inherent opposite or contrasted principles.
Physical science, then, cannot formulate laws outside of maya, the very texture and structure of creation. Nature herself is maya; natural science must perforce deal with her ineluctable quiddity. In her own domain, she is eternal and inexhaustible; future scientists can do no more than probe one aspect after another of her varied infinitude. Science thus remains in a perpetual flux, unable to reach finality; fit indeed to formulate the laws of an already existing and functioning cosmos, but powerless to detect the Law Framer and Sole Operator. The majestic manifestations of gravitation and electricity have become known, but what gravitation and electricity are, no mortal knoweth. 3
To surmount maya was the task assigned to the human race by the millennial prophets. To rise above the duality of creation and perceive the unity of the Creator was conceived of as man's highest goal. Those who cling to the cosmic illusion must accept its essential law of polarity: flow and ebb, rise and fall, day and night, pleasure and pain, good and evil, birth and death. This cyclic pattern assumes a certain anguishing monotony, after man has gone through a few thousand human births; he begins to cast a hopeful eye beyond the compulsions of maya.
To tear the veil of maya is to pierce the secret of creation. The yogi who thus denudes the universe is the only true monotheist. All others are worshiping heathen images. So long as man remains subject to the dualistic delusions of nature, the Janus-faced Maya is his goddess; he cannot know the one true God.
The world illusion, maya, is individually called avidya, literally, "not-knowledge," ignorance, delusion. Maya or avidya can never be destroyed through intellectual conviction or analysis, but solely through attaining the interior state of nirbikalpa samadhi. The Old Testament prophets, and seers of all lands and ages, spoke from that state of consciousness. Ezekiel says (43:1-2): "Afterwards he brought me to the gate, even the gate that looketh toward the east: and, behold, the glory of the God of Israel came from the way of the east: and his voice was like a noise of many waters: and the earth shined with his glory." Through the divine eye in the forehead (east), the yogi sails his consciousness into omnipresence, hearing the Word or Aum, divine sound of many waters or vibrations which is the sole reality of creation.
Among the trillion mysteries of the cosmos, the most phenomenal is light. Unlike sound-waves, whose transmission requires air or other material media, light-waves pass freely through the vacuum of interstellar space. Even the hypothetical ether, held as the interplanetary medium of light in the undulatory theory, can be discarded on the Einsteinian grounds that the geometrical properties of space render the theory of ether unnecessary. Under either hypothesis, light remains the most subtle, the freest from material dependence, of any natural manifestation.
In the gigantic conceptions of Einstein, the velocity of light-186,000 miles per second-dominates the whole Theory of Relativity. He proves mathematically that the velocity of light is, so far as man's finite mind is concerned, the only constant in a universe of unstayable flux. On the sole absolute of light-velocity depend all human standards of time and space. Not abstractly eternal as hitherto considered, time and space are relative and finite factors, deriving their measurement validity only in reference to the yardstick of light-velocity. In joining space as a dimensional relativity, time has surrendered age-old claims to a changeless value. Time is now stripped to its rightful nature-a simple essence of ambiguity! With a few equational strokes of his pen, Einstein has banished from the cosmos every fixed reality except that of light.
In a later development, his Unified Field Theory, the great physicist embodies in one mathematical formula the laws of gravitation and of electromagnetism. Reducing the cosmical structure to variations on a single law, Einstein4 reaches across the ages to the rishis who proclaimed a sole texture of creation-that of a protean maya.
On the epochal Theory of Relativity have arisen the mathematical possibilities of exploring the ultimate atom. Great scientists are now boldly asserting not only that the atom is energy rather than matter, but that atomic energy is essentially mind-stuff.
"The frank realization that physical science is concerned with a world of shadows is one of the most significant advances," Sir Arthur Stanley Eddington writes in The Nature of the Physical World. "In the world of physics we watch a shadowgraph performance of the drama of familiar life. The shadow of my elbow rests on the shadow table as the shadow ink flows over the shadow paper. It is all symbolic, and as a symbol the physicist leaves it. Then comes the alchemist Mind who transmutes the symbols. . . . To put the conclusion crudely, the stuff of the world is mind-stuff. . . . The realistic matter and fields of force of former physical theory are altogether irrelevant except in so far as the mind-stuff has itself spun these imaginings. . . . The external world has thus become a world of shadows. In removing our illusions we have removed the substance, for indeed we have seen that substance is one of the greatest of our illusions."
With the recent discovery of the electron microscope came definite proof of the light-essence of atoms and of the inescapable duality of nature. The New York Times gave the following report of a 1937 demonstration of the electron microscope before a meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science:
"The crystalline structure of tungsten, hitherto known only indirectly by means of X-rays, stood outlined boldly on a fluorescent screen, showing nine atoms in their correct positions in the space lattice, a cube, with one atom in each corner and one in the center. The atoms in the crystal lattice of the tungsten appeared on the fluorescent screen as points of light, arranged in geometric pattern. Against this crystal cube of light the bombarding molecules of air could be observed as dancing points of light, similar to points of sunlight shimmering on moving waters. . . .
"The principle of the electron microscope was first discovered in 1927 by Drs. Clinton J. Davisson and Lester H. Germer of the Bell Telephone Laboratories, New York City, who found that the electron had a dual personality partaking of the characteristic of both a particle and a wave. The wave quality gave the electron the characteristic of light, and a search was begun to devise means for 'focusing' electrons in a manner similar to the focusing of light by means of a lens.
"For his discovery of the Jekyll-Hyde quality of the electron, which corroborated the prediction made in 1924 by De Broglie, French Nobel Prize winning physicist, and showed that the entire realm of physical nature had a dual personality, Dr. Davisson also received the Nobel Prize in physics."
"The stream of knowledge," Sir James Jeans writes in The Mysterious Universe, "is heading towards a non-mechanical reality; the universe begins to look more like a great thought than like a great machine." Twentieth-century science is thus sounding like a page from the hoary Vedas.
From science, then, if it must be so, let man learn the philosophic truth that there is no material universe; its warp and woof is maya, illusion. Its mirages of reality all break down under analysis. As one by one the reassuring props of a physical cosmos crash beneath him, man dimly perceives his idolatrous reliance, his past transgression of the divine command: "Thou shalt have no other gods before Me."
In his famous equation outlining the equivalence of mass and energy, Einstein proved that the energy in any particle of matter is equal to its mass or weight multiplied by the square of the velocity of light. The release of the atomic energies is brought about through the annihilation of the material particles. The "death" of matter has been the "birth" of an Atomic Age.
Light-velocity is a mathematical standard or constant not because there is an absolute value in 186,000 miles a second, but because no material body, whose mass increases with its velocity, can ever attain the velocity of light. Stated another way: only a material body whose mass is infinite could equal the velocity of light.
This conception brings us to the law of miracles.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
हनुमान्जी का लंका को प्रस्थान, सुरसा से भेंट, छाया पकड़ने वाली राक्षसी का वध(by- tulsidas)
चौपाई :
* जामवंत के बचन सुहाए। सुनि हनुमंत हृदय अति भाए॥
तब लगि मोहि परिखेहु तुम्ह भाई। सहि दुख कंद मूल फल खाई॥1॥
भावार्थ:-जाम्बवान् के सुंदर वचन सुनकर हनुमान्जी के हृदय को बहुत ही भाए। (वे बोले-) हे भाई! तुम लोग दुःख सहकर, कन्द-मूल-फल खाकर तब तक मेरी राह देखना॥1॥
* जब लगि आवौं सीतहि देखी। होइहि काजु मोहि हरष बिसेषी॥
यह कहि नाइ सबन्हि कहुँ माथा । चलेउ हरषि हियँ धरि रघुनाथा॥2॥
भावार्थ:-जब तक मैं सीताजी को देखकर (लौट) न आऊँ। काम अवश्य होगा, क्योंकि मुझे बहुत ही हर्ष हो रहा है। यह कहकर और सबको मस्तक नवाकर तथा हृदय में श्री रघुनाथजी को धारण करके हनुमान्जी हर्षित होकर चले॥2॥
* सिंधु तीर एक भूधर सुंदर। कौतुक कूदि चढ़ेउ ता ऊपर॥
बार-बार रघुबीर सँभारी। तरकेउ पवनतनय बल भारी॥3॥
भावार्थ:-समुद्र के तीर पर एक सुंदर पर्वत था। हनुमान्जी खेल से ही (अनायास ही) कूदकर उसके ऊपर जा चढ़े और बार-बार श्री रघुवीर का स्मरण करके अत्यंत बलवान् हनुमान्जी उस पर से बड़े वेग से उछले॥3॥
* जेहिं गिरि चरन देइ हनुमंता। चलेउ सो गा पाताल तुरंता॥
जिमि अमोघ रघुपति कर बाना। एही भाँति चलेउ हनुमाना॥4॥
भावार्थ:-जिस पर्वत पर हनुमान्जी पैर रखकर चले (जिस पर से वे उछले), वह तुरंत ही पाताल में धँस गया। जैसे श्री रघुनाथजी का अमोघ बाण चलता है, उसी तरह हनुमान्जी चले॥4॥
* जलनिधि रघुपति दूत बिचारी। तैं मैनाक होहि श्रम हारी॥5॥
भावार्थ:-समुद्र ने उन्हें श्री रघुनाथजी का दूत समझकर मैनाक पर्वत से कहा कि हे मैनाक! तू इनकी थकावट दूर करने वाला हो (अर्थात् अपने ऊपर इन्हें विश्राम दे)॥5॥
दोहा :
* हनूमान तेहि परसा कर पुनि कीन्ह प्रनाम।
राम काजु कीन्हें बिनु मोहि कहाँ बिश्राम॥1॥
भावार्थ:-हनुमान्जी ने उसे हाथ से छू दिया, फिर प्रणाम करके कहा- भाई! श्री रामचंद्रजी का काम किए बिना मुझे विश्राम कहाँ?॥1॥
चौपाई :
* जात पवनसुत देवन्ह देखा। जानैं कहुँ बल बुद्धि बिसेषा॥
सुरसा नाम अहिन्ह कै माता। पठइन्हि आइ कही तेहिं बाता॥1॥
भावार्थ:-देवताओं ने पवनपुत्र हनुमान्जी को जाते हुए देखा। उनकी विशेष बल-बुद्धि को जानने के लिए (परीक्षार्थ) उन्होंने सुरसा नामक सर्पों की माता को भेजा, उसने आकर हनुमान्जी से यह बात कही-॥1॥
* आजु सुरन्ह मोहि दीन्ह अहारा। सुनत बचन कह पवनकुमारा॥
राम काजु करि फिरि मैं आवौं। सीता कइ सुधि प्रभुहि सुनावौं॥2॥
भावार्थ:-आज देवताओं ने मुझे भोजन दिया है। यह वचन सुनकर पवनकुमार हनुमान्जी ने कहा- श्री रामजी का कार्य करके मैं लौट आऊँ और सीताजी की खबर प्रभु को सुना दूँ,॥2॥
* तब तव बदन पैठिहउँ आई। सत्य कहउँ मोहि जान दे माई॥
कवनेहुँ जतन देइ नहिं जाना। ग्रससि न मोहि कहेउ हनुमाना॥3॥
भावार्थ:-तब मैं आकर तुम्हारे मुँह में घुस जाऊँगा (तुम मुझे खा लेना)। हे माता! मैं सत्य कहता हूँ, अभी मुझे जाने दे। जब किसी भी उपाय से उसने जाने नहीं दिया, तब हनुमान्जी ने कहा- तो फिर मुझे खा न ले॥3॥
* जोजन भरि तेहिं बदनु पसारा। कपि तनु कीन्ह दुगुन बिस्तारा ॥
सोरह जोजन मुख तेहिं ठयऊ। तुरत पवनसुत बत्तिस भयऊ॥4॥
भावार्थ:-उसने योजनभर (चार कोस में) मुँह फैलाया। तब हनुमान्जी ने अपने शरीर को उससे दूना बढ़ा लिया। उसने सोलह योजन का मुख किया। हनुमान्जी तुरंत ही बत्तीस योजन के हो गए॥4॥
* जस जस सुरसा बदनु बढ़ावा। तासु दून कपि रूप देखावा॥
सत जोजन तेहिं आनन कीन्हा। अति लघु रूप पवनसुत लीन्हा॥5॥
भावार्थ:-जैसे-जैसे सुरसा मुख का विस्तार बढ़ाती थी, हनुमान्जी उसका दूना रूप दिखलाते थे। उसने सौ योजन (चार सौ कोस का) मुख किया। तब हनुमान्जी ने बहुत ही छोटा रूप धारण कर लिया॥5॥
* बदन पइठि पुनि बाहेर आवा। मागा बिदा ताहि सिरु नावा॥
मोहि सुरन्ह जेहि लागि पठावा। बुधि बल मरमु तोर मैं पावा॥6॥
भावार्थ:-और उसके मुख में घुसकर (तुरंत) फिर बाहर निकल आए और उसे सिर नवाकर विदा माँगने लगे। (उसने कहा-) मैंने तुम्हारे बुद्धि-बल का भेद पा लिया, जिसके लिए देवताओं ने मुझे भेजा था॥6॥
दोहा :
* राम काजु सबु करिहहु तुम्ह बल बुद्धि निधान।
आसिष देइ गई सो हरषि चलेउ हनुमान॥2॥
भावार्थ:-तुम श्री रामचंद्रजी का सब कार्य करोगे, क्योंकि तुम बल-बुद्धि के भंडार हो। यह आशीर्वाद देकर वह चली गई, तब हनुमान्जी हर्षित होकर चले॥2॥
चौपाई :
* निसिचरि एक सिंधु महुँ रहई। करि माया नभु के खग गहई॥
जीव जंतु जे गगन उड़ाहीं। जल बिलोकि तिन्ह कै परिछाहीं॥1॥
भावार्थ:-समुद्र में एक राक्षसी रहती थी। वह माया करके आकाश में उड़ते हुए पक्षियों को पकड़ लेती थी। आकाश में जो जीव-जंतु उड़ा करते थे, वह जल में उनकी परछाईं देखकर॥1॥
* गहइ छाहँ सक सो न उड़ाई। एहि बिधि सदा गगनचर खाई॥
सोइ छल हनूमान् कहँ कीन्हा। तासु कपटु कपि तुरतहिं चीन्हा॥2॥
भावार्थ:-उस परछाईं को पकड़ लेती थी, जिससे वे उड़ नहीं सकते थे (और जल में गिर पड़ते थे) इस प्रकार वह सदा आकाश में उड़ने वाले जीवों को खाया करती थी। उसने वही छल हनुमान्जी से भी किया। हनुमान्जी ने तुरंत ही उसका कपट पहचान लिया॥2॥
* ताहि मारि मारुतसुत बीरा। बारिधि पार गयउ मतिधीरा॥
तहाँ जाइ देखी बन सोभा। गुंजत चंचरीक मधु लोभा॥3॥
भावार्थ:-पवनपुत्र धीरबुद्धि वीर श्री हनुमान्जी उसको मारकर समुद्र के पार गए। वहाँ जाकर उन्होंने वन की शोभा देखी। मधु (पुष्प रस) के लोभ से भौंरे गुंजार कर रहे थे॥3॥
चौपाई :
* जामवंत के बचन सुहाए। सुनि हनुमंत हृदय अति भाए॥
तब लगि मोहि परिखेहु तुम्ह भाई। सहि दुख कंद मूल फल खाई॥1॥
भावार्थ:-जाम्बवान् के सुंदर वचन सुनकर हनुमान्जी के हृदय को बहुत ही भाए। (वे बोले-) हे भाई! तुम लोग दुःख सहकर, कन्द-मूल-फल खाकर तब तक मेरी राह देखना॥1॥
* जब लगि आवौं सीतहि देखी। होइहि काजु मोहि हरष बिसेषी॥
यह कहि नाइ सबन्हि कहुँ माथा । चलेउ हरषि हियँ धरि रघुनाथा॥2॥
भावार्थ:-जब तक मैं सीताजी को देखकर (लौट) न आऊँ। काम अवश्य होगा, क्योंकि मुझे बहुत ही हर्ष हो रहा है। यह कहकर और सबको मस्तक नवाकर तथा हृदय में श्री रघुनाथजी को धारण करके हनुमान्जी हर्षित होकर चले॥2॥
* सिंधु तीर एक भूधर सुंदर। कौतुक कूदि चढ़ेउ ता ऊपर॥
बार-बार रघुबीर सँभारी। तरकेउ पवनतनय बल भारी॥3॥
भावार्थ:-समुद्र के तीर पर एक सुंदर पर्वत था। हनुमान्जी खेल से ही (अनायास ही) कूदकर उसके ऊपर जा चढ़े और बार-बार श्री रघुवीर का स्मरण करके अत्यंत बलवान् हनुमान्जी उस पर से बड़े वेग से उछले॥3॥
* जेहिं गिरि चरन देइ हनुमंता। चलेउ सो गा पाताल तुरंता॥
जिमि अमोघ रघुपति कर बाना। एही भाँति चलेउ हनुमाना॥4॥
भावार्थ:-जिस पर्वत पर हनुमान्जी पैर रखकर चले (जिस पर से वे उछले), वह तुरंत ही पाताल में धँस गया। जैसे श्री रघुनाथजी का अमोघ बाण चलता है, उसी तरह हनुमान्जी चले॥4॥
* जलनिधि रघुपति दूत बिचारी। तैं मैनाक होहि श्रम हारी॥5॥
भावार्थ:-समुद्र ने उन्हें श्री रघुनाथजी का दूत समझकर मैनाक पर्वत से कहा कि हे मैनाक! तू इनकी थकावट दूर करने वाला हो (अर्थात् अपने ऊपर इन्हें विश्राम दे)॥5॥
दोहा :
* हनूमान तेहि परसा कर पुनि कीन्ह प्रनाम।
राम काजु कीन्हें बिनु मोहि कहाँ बिश्राम॥1॥
भावार्थ:-हनुमान्जी ने उसे हाथ से छू दिया, फिर प्रणाम करके कहा- भाई! श्री रामचंद्रजी का काम किए बिना मुझे विश्राम कहाँ?॥1॥
चौपाई :
* जात पवनसुत देवन्ह देखा। जानैं कहुँ बल बुद्धि बिसेषा॥
सुरसा नाम अहिन्ह कै माता। पठइन्हि आइ कही तेहिं बाता॥1॥
भावार्थ:-देवताओं ने पवनपुत्र हनुमान्जी को जाते हुए देखा। उनकी विशेष बल-बुद्धि को जानने के लिए (परीक्षार्थ) उन्होंने सुरसा नामक सर्पों की माता को भेजा, उसने आकर हनुमान्जी से यह बात कही-॥1॥
* आजु सुरन्ह मोहि दीन्ह अहारा। सुनत बचन कह पवनकुमारा॥
राम काजु करि फिरि मैं आवौं। सीता कइ सुधि प्रभुहि सुनावौं॥2॥
भावार्थ:-आज देवताओं ने मुझे भोजन दिया है। यह वचन सुनकर पवनकुमार हनुमान्जी ने कहा- श्री रामजी का कार्य करके मैं लौट आऊँ और सीताजी की खबर प्रभु को सुना दूँ,॥2॥
* तब तव बदन पैठिहउँ आई। सत्य कहउँ मोहि जान दे माई॥
कवनेहुँ जतन देइ नहिं जाना। ग्रससि न मोहि कहेउ हनुमाना॥3॥
भावार्थ:-तब मैं आकर तुम्हारे मुँह में घुस जाऊँगा (तुम मुझे खा लेना)। हे माता! मैं सत्य कहता हूँ, अभी मुझे जाने दे। जब किसी भी उपाय से उसने जाने नहीं दिया, तब हनुमान्जी ने कहा- तो फिर मुझे खा न ले॥3॥
* जोजन भरि तेहिं बदनु पसारा। कपि तनु कीन्ह दुगुन बिस्तारा ॥
सोरह जोजन मुख तेहिं ठयऊ। तुरत पवनसुत बत्तिस भयऊ॥4॥
भावार्थ:-उसने योजनभर (चार कोस में) मुँह फैलाया। तब हनुमान्जी ने अपने शरीर को उससे दूना बढ़ा लिया। उसने सोलह योजन का मुख किया। हनुमान्जी तुरंत ही बत्तीस योजन के हो गए॥4॥
* जस जस सुरसा बदनु बढ़ावा। तासु दून कपि रूप देखावा॥
सत जोजन तेहिं आनन कीन्हा। अति लघु रूप पवनसुत लीन्हा॥5॥
भावार्थ:-जैसे-जैसे सुरसा मुख का विस्तार बढ़ाती थी, हनुमान्जी उसका दूना रूप दिखलाते थे। उसने सौ योजन (चार सौ कोस का) मुख किया। तब हनुमान्जी ने बहुत ही छोटा रूप धारण कर लिया॥5॥
* बदन पइठि पुनि बाहेर आवा। मागा बिदा ताहि सिरु नावा॥
मोहि सुरन्ह जेहि लागि पठावा। बुधि बल मरमु तोर मैं पावा॥6॥
भावार्थ:-और उसके मुख में घुसकर (तुरंत) फिर बाहर निकल आए और उसे सिर नवाकर विदा माँगने लगे। (उसने कहा-) मैंने तुम्हारे बुद्धि-बल का भेद पा लिया, जिसके लिए देवताओं ने मुझे भेजा था॥6॥
दोहा :
* राम काजु सबु करिहहु तुम्ह बल बुद्धि निधान।
आसिष देइ गई सो हरषि चलेउ हनुमान॥2॥
भावार्थ:-तुम श्री रामचंद्रजी का सब कार्य करोगे, क्योंकि तुम बल-बुद्धि के भंडार हो। यह आशीर्वाद देकर वह चली गई, तब हनुमान्जी हर्षित होकर चले॥2॥
चौपाई :
* निसिचरि एक सिंधु महुँ रहई। करि माया नभु के खग गहई॥
जीव जंतु जे गगन उड़ाहीं। जल बिलोकि तिन्ह कै परिछाहीं॥1॥
भावार्थ:-समुद्र में एक राक्षसी रहती थी। वह माया करके आकाश में उड़ते हुए पक्षियों को पकड़ लेती थी। आकाश में जो जीव-जंतु उड़ा करते थे, वह जल में उनकी परछाईं देखकर॥1॥
* गहइ छाहँ सक सो न उड़ाई। एहि बिधि सदा गगनचर खाई॥
सोइ छल हनूमान् कहँ कीन्हा। तासु कपटु कपि तुरतहिं चीन्हा॥2॥
भावार्थ:-उस परछाईं को पकड़ लेती थी, जिससे वे उड़ नहीं सकते थे (और जल में गिर पड़ते थे) इस प्रकार वह सदा आकाश में उड़ने वाले जीवों को खाया करती थी। उसने वही छल हनुमान्जी से भी किया। हनुमान्जी ने तुरंत ही उसका कपट पहचान लिया॥2॥
* ताहि मारि मारुतसुत बीरा। बारिधि पार गयउ मतिधीरा॥
तहाँ जाइ देखी बन सोभा। गुंजत चंचरीक मधु लोभा॥3॥
भावार्थ:-पवनपुत्र धीरबुद्धि वीर श्री हनुमान्जी उसको मारकर समुद्र के पार गए। वहाँ जाकर उन्होंने वन की शोभा देखी। मधु (पुष्प रस) के लोभ से भौंरे गुंजार कर रहे थे॥3॥
devine experience
October 21 Overcoming Temptation
The worst of all temptations is restlessness. It is evil because it keeps your attention on the world and thus causes you to remain in ignorance of God. If you meditate regularly, you will be with God all the time.
—Sri Sri Paramahansa Yogananda, Yogoda Satsanga Lessons
Autobiography of a Yogi
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 19
My Master, in Calcutta, Appears in Serampore
"I am often beset by atheistic doubts. Yet a torturing surmise sometimes haunts me: may not untapped soul possibilities exist? Is man not missing his real destiny if he fails to explore them?"
These remarks of Dijen Babu, my roommate at the Panthi boardinghouse, were called forth by my invitation that he meet my guru.
"Sri Yukteswarji will initiate you into Kriya Yoga," I replied. "It calms the dualistic turmoil by a divine inner certainty."
That evening Dijen accompanied me to the hermitage. In Master's presence my friend received such spiritual peace that he was soon a constant visitor. The trivial preoccupations of daily life are not enough for man; wisdom too is a native hunger. In Sri Yukteswar's words Dijen found an incentive to those attempts-first painful, then effortlessly liberating-to locate a realer self within his bosom than the humiliating ego of a temporary birth, seldom ample enough for the Spirit.
As Dijen and I were both pursuing the A.B. course at Serampore College, we got into the habit of walking together to the ashram as soon as classes were over. We would often see Sri Yukteswar standing on his second-floor balcony, welcoming our approach with a smile.
One afternoon Kanai, a young hermitage resident, met Dijen and me at the door with disappointing news.
"Master is not here; he was summoned to Calcutta by an urgent note."
The following day I received a post card from my guru. "I shall leave Calcutta Wednesday morning," he had written. "You and Dijen meet the nine o'clock train at Serampore station."
About eight-thirty on Wednesday morning, a telepathic message from Sri Yukteswar flashed insistently to my mind: "I am delayed; don't meet the nine o'clock train."
I conveyed the latest instructions to Dijen, who was already dressed for departure.
"You and your intuition!" My friend's voice was edged in scorn. "I prefer to trust Master's written word."
I shrugged my shoulders and seated myself with quiet finality. Muttering angrily, Dijen made for the door and closed it noisily behind him.
As the room was rather dark, I moved nearer to the window overlooking the street. The scant sunlight suddenly increased to an intense brilliancy in which the iron-barred window completely vanished. Against this dazzling background appeared the clearly materialized figure of Sri Yukteswar!
Bewildered to the point of shock, I rose from my chair and knelt before him. With my customary gesture of respectful greeting at my guru's feet, I touched his shoes. These were a pair familiar to me, of orange-dyed canvas, soled with rope. His ocher swami cloth brushed against me; I distinctly felt not only the texture of his robe, but also the gritty surface of the shoes, and the pressure of his toes within them. Too much astounded to utter a word, I stood up and gazed at him questioningly.
"I was pleased that you got my telepathic message." Master's voice was calm, entirely normal. "I have now finished my business in Calcutta, and shall arrive in Serampore by the ten o'clock train."
As I still stared mutely, Sri Yukteswar went on, "This is not an apparition, but my flesh and blood form. I have been divinely commanded to give you this experience, rare to achieve on earth. Meet me at the station; you and Dijen will see me coming toward you, dressed as I am now. I shall be preceded by a fellow passenger-a little boy carrying a silver jug."
My guru placed both hands on my head, with a murmured blessing. As he concluded with the words, "Taba asi,"1 I heard a peculiar rumbling sound.2 His body began to melt gradually within the piercing light. First his feet and legs vanished, then his torso and head, like a scroll being rolled up. To the very last, I could feel his fingers resting lightly on my hair. The effulgence faded; nothing remained before me but the barred window and a pale stream of sunlight.
I remained in a half-stupor of confusion, questioning whether I had not been the victim of a hallucination. A crestfallen Dijen soon entered the room.
"Master was not on the nine o'clock train, nor even the nine-thirty." My friend made his announcement with a slightly apologetic air.
"Come then; I know he will arrive at ten o'clock." I took Dijen's hand and rushed him forcibly along with me, heedless of his protests. In about ten minutes we entered the station, where the train was already puffing to a halt.
"The whole train is filled with the light of Master's aura! He is there!" I exclaimed joyfully.
"You dream so?" Dijen laughed mockingly.
"Let us wait here." I told my friend details of the way in which our guru would approach us. As I finished my description, Sri Yukteswar came into view, wearing the same clothes I had seen a short time earlier. He walked slowly in the wake of a small lad bearing a silver jug.
For a moment a wave of cold fear passed through me, at the unprecedented strangeness of my experience. I felt the materialistic, twentieth-century world slipping from me; was I back in the ancient days when Jesus appeared before Peter on the sea?
As Sri Yukteswar, a modern Yogi-Christ, reached the spot where Dijen and I were speechlessly rooted, Master smiled at my friend and remarked:
"I sent you a message too, but you were unable to grasp it."
Dijen was silent, but glared at me suspiciously. After we had escorted our guru to his hermitage, my friend and I proceeded toward Serampore College. Dijen halted in the street, indignation streaming from his every pore.
"So! Master sent me a message! Yet you concealed it! I demand an explanation!"
"Can I help it if your mental mirror oscillates with such restlessness that you cannot register our guru's instructions?" I retorted.
The anger vanished from Dijen's face. "I see what you mean," he said ruefully. "But please explain how you could know about the child with the jug."
By the time I had finished the story of Master's phenomenal appearance at the boardinghouse that morning, my friend and I had reached Serampore College.
The worst of all temptations is restlessness. It is evil because it keeps your attention on the world and thus causes you to remain in ignorance of God. If you meditate regularly, you will be with God all the time.
—Sri Sri Paramahansa Yogananda, Yogoda Satsanga Lessons
Autobiography of a Yogi
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 19
My Master, in Calcutta, Appears in Serampore
"I am often beset by atheistic doubts. Yet a torturing surmise sometimes haunts me: may not untapped soul possibilities exist? Is man not missing his real destiny if he fails to explore them?"
These remarks of Dijen Babu, my roommate at the Panthi boardinghouse, were called forth by my invitation that he meet my guru.
"Sri Yukteswarji will initiate you into Kriya Yoga," I replied. "It calms the dualistic turmoil by a divine inner certainty."
That evening Dijen accompanied me to the hermitage. In Master's presence my friend received such spiritual peace that he was soon a constant visitor. The trivial preoccupations of daily life are not enough for man; wisdom too is a native hunger. In Sri Yukteswar's words Dijen found an incentive to those attempts-first painful, then effortlessly liberating-to locate a realer self within his bosom than the humiliating ego of a temporary birth, seldom ample enough for the Spirit.
As Dijen and I were both pursuing the A.B. course at Serampore College, we got into the habit of walking together to the ashram as soon as classes were over. We would often see Sri Yukteswar standing on his second-floor balcony, welcoming our approach with a smile.
One afternoon Kanai, a young hermitage resident, met Dijen and me at the door with disappointing news.
"Master is not here; he was summoned to Calcutta by an urgent note."
The following day I received a post card from my guru. "I shall leave Calcutta Wednesday morning," he had written. "You and Dijen meet the nine o'clock train at Serampore station."
About eight-thirty on Wednesday morning, a telepathic message from Sri Yukteswar flashed insistently to my mind: "I am delayed; don't meet the nine o'clock train."
I conveyed the latest instructions to Dijen, who was already dressed for departure.
"You and your intuition!" My friend's voice was edged in scorn. "I prefer to trust Master's written word."
I shrugged my shoulders and seated myself with quiet finality. Muttering angrily, Dijen made for the door and closed it noisily behind him.
As the room was rather dark, I moved nearer to the window overlooking the street. The scant sunlight suddenly increased to an intense brilliancy in which the iron-barred window completely vanished. Against this dazzling background appeared the clearly materialized figure of Sri Yukteswar!
Bewildered to the point of shock, I rose from my chair and knelt before him. With my customary gesture of respectful greeting at my guru's feet, I touched his shoes. These were a pair familiar to me, of orange-dyed canvas, soled with rope. His ocher swami cloth brushed against me; I distinctly felt not only the texture of his robe, but also the gritty surface of the shoes, and the pressure of his toes within them. Too much astounded to utter a word, I stood up and gazed at him questioningly.
"I was pleased that you got my telepathic message." Master's voice was calm, entirely normal. "I have now finished my business in Calcutta, and shall arrive in Serampore by the ten o'clock train."
As I still stared mutely, Sri Yukteswar went on, "This is not an apparition, but my flesh and blood form. I have been divinely commanded to give you this experience, rare to achieve on earth. Meet me at the station; you and Dijen will see me coming toward you, dressed as I am now. I shall be preceded by a fellow passenger-a little boy carrying a silver jug."
My guru placed both hands on my head, with a murmured blessing. As he concluded with the words, "Taba asi,"1 I heard a peculiar rumbling sound.2 His body began to melt gradually within the piercing light. First his feet and legs vanished, then his torso and head, like a scroll being rolled up. To the very last, I could feel his fingers resting lightly on my hair. The effulgence faded; nothing remained before me but the barred window and a pale stream of sunlight.
I remained in a half-stupor of confusion, questioning whether I had not been the victim of a hallucination. A crestfallen Dijen soon entered the room.
"Master was not on the nine o'clock train, nor even the nine-thirty." My friend made his announcement with a slightly apologetic air.
"Come then; I know he will arrive at ten o'clock." I took Dijen's hand and rushed him forcibly along with me, heedless of his protests. In about ten minutes we entered the station, where the train was already puffing to a halt.
"The whole train is filled with the light of Master's aura! He is there!" I exclaimed joyfully.
"You dream so?" Dijen laughed mockingly.
"Let us wait here." I told my friend details of the way in which our guru would approach us. As I finished my description, Sri Yukteswar came into view, wearing the same clothes I had seen a short time earlier. He walked slowly in the wake of a small lad bearing a silver jug.
For a moment a wave of cold fear passed through me, at the unprecedented strangeness of my experience. I felt the materialistic, twentieth-century world slipping from me; was I back in the ancient days when Jesus appeared before Peter on the sea?
As Sri Yukteswar, a modern Yogi-Christ, reached the spot where Dijen and I were speechlessly rooted, Master smiled at my friend and remarked:
"I sent you a message too, but you were unable to grasp it."
Dijen was silent, but glared at me suspiciously. After we had escorted our guru to his hermitage, my friend and I proceeded toward Serampore College. Dijen halted in the street, indignation streaming from his every pore.
"So! Master sent me a message! Yet you concealed it! I demand an explanation!"
"Can I help it if your mental mirror oscillates with such restlessness that you cannot register our guru's instructions?" I retorted.
The anger vanished from Dijen's face. "I see what you mean," he said ruefully. "But please explain how you could know about the child with the jug."
By the time I had finished the story of Master's phenomenal appearance at the boardinghouse that morning, my friend and I had reached Serampore College.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
saint of smells
Autobiography of a Yogi
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 5
A "Perfume Saint" Displays His Wonders
"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven."
I did not have this wisdom of Solomon to comfort me; I gazed searchingly about me, on any excursion from home, for the face of my destined guru. But my path did not cross his own until after the completion of my high school studies.
Two years elapsed between my flight with Amar toward the Himalayas, and the great day of Sri Yukteswar's arrival into my life. During that interim I met a number of sages-the "Perfume Saint," the "Tiger Swami," Nagendra Nath Bhaduri, Master Mahasaya, and the famous Bengali scientist, Jagadis Chandra Bose.
My encounter with the "Perfume Saint" had two preambles, one harmonious and the other humorous.
"God is simple. Everything else is complex. Do not seek absolute values in the relative world of nature."
These philosophical finalities gently entered my ear as I stood silently before a temple image of Kali. Turning, I confronted a tall man whose garb, or lack of it, revealed him a wandering sadhu.
"You have indeed penetrated the bewilderment of my thoughts!" I smiled gratefully. "The confusion of benign and terrible aspects in nature, as symbolized by Kali1, has puzzled wiser heads than mine!"
"Few there be who solve her mystery! Good and evil is the challenging riddle which life places sphinxlike before every intelligence. Attempting no solution, most men pay forfeit with their lives, penalty now even as in the days of Thebes. Here and there, a towering lonely figure never cries defeat. From the maya2 of duality he plucks the cleaveless truth of unity."
"You speak with conviction, sir."
"I have long exercised an honest introspection, the exquisitely painful approach to wisdom. Self-scrutiny, relentless observance of one's thoughts, is a stark and shattering experience. It pulverizes the stoutest ego. But true self-analysis mathematically operates to produce seers. The way of 'self-expression,' individual acknowledgments, results in egotists, sure of the right to their private interpretations of God and the universe."
"Truth humbly retires, no doubt, before such arrogant originality." I was enjoying the discussion.
"Man can understand no eternal verity until he has freed himself from pretensions. The human mind, bared to a centuried slime, is teeming with repulsive life of countless world-delusions. Struggles of the battlefields pale into insignificance here, when man first contends with inward enemies! No mortal foes these, to be overcome by harrowing array of might! Omnipresent, unresting, pursuing man even in sleep, subtly equipped with a miasmic weapon, these soldiers of ignorant lusts seek to slay us all. Thoughtless is the man who buries his ideals, surrendering to the common fate. Can he seem other than impotent, wooden, ignominious?"
"Respected Sir, have you no sympathy for the bewildered masses?"
The sage was silent for a moment, then answered obliquely.
"To love both the invisible God, Repository of All Virtues, and visible man, apparently possessed of none, is often baffling! But ingenuity is equal to the maze. Inner research soon exposes a unity in all human minds-the stalwart kinship of selfish motive. In one sense at least, the brotherhood of man stands revealed. An aghast humility follows this leveling discovery. It ripens into compassion for one's fellows, blind to the healing potencies of the soul awaiting exploration."
"The saints of every age, sir, have felt like yourself for the sorrows of the world."
"Only the shallow man loses responsiveness to the woes of others' lives, as he sinks into narrow suffering of his own." The sadhu's austere face was noticeably softened. "The one who practices a scalpel self-dissection will know an expansion of universal pity. Release is given him from the deafening demands of his ego. The love of God flowers on such soil. The creature finally turns to his Creator, if for no other reason than to ask in anguish: 'Why, Lord, why?' By ignoble whips of pain, man is driven at last into the Infinite Presence, whose beauty alone should lure him."
The sage and I were present in Calcutta's Kalighat Temple, whither I had gone to view its famed magnificence. With a sweeping gesture, my chance companion dismissed the ornate dignity.
"Bricks and mortar sing us no audible tune; the heart opens only to the human chant of being."
We strolled to the inviting sunshine at the entrance, where throngs of devotees were passing to and fro.
"You are young." The sage surveyed me thoughtfully. "India too is young. The ancient rishis 3 laid down ineradicable patterns of spiritual living. Their hoary dictums suffice for this day and land. Not outmoded, not unsophisticated against the guiles of materialism, the disciplinary precepts mold India still. By millenniums-more than embarrassed scholars care to compute!-the skeptic Time has validated Vedic worth. Take it for your heritage."
As I was reverently bidding farewell to the eloquent sadhu, he revealed a clairvoyant perception:
"After you leave here today, an unusual experience will come your way."
I quitted the temple precincts and wandered along aimlessly. Turning a corner, I ran into an old acquaintance-one of those long-winded fellows whose conversational powers ignore time and embrace eternity.
"I will let you go in a very short while, if you will tell me all that has happened during the six years of our separation."
"What a paradox! I must leave you now."
But he held me by the hand, forcing out tidbits of information. He was like a ravenous wolf, I thought in amusement; the longer I spoke, the more hungrily he sniffed for news. Inwardly I petitioned the Goddess Kali to devise a graceful means of escape.
My companion left me abruptly. I sighed with relief and doubled my pace, dreading any relapse into the garrulous fever. Hearing rapid footsteps behind me, I quickened my speed. I dared not look back. But with a bound, the youth rejoined me, jovially clasping my shoulder.
"I forgot to tell you of Gandha Baba (Perfume Saint), who is gracing yonder house." He pointed to a dwelling a few yards distant. "Do meet him; he is interesting. You may have an unusual experience. Good-by," and he actually left me.
The similarly worded prediction of the sadhu at Kalighat Temple flashed to my mind. Definitely intrigued, I entered the house and was ushered into a commodious parlor. A crowd of people were sitting, Orient-wise, here and there on a thick orange-colored carpet. An awed whisper reached my ear:
"Behold Gandha Baba on the leopard skin. He can give the natural perfume of any flower to a scentless one, or revive a wilted blossom, or make a person's skin exude delightful fragrance."
I looked directly at the saint; his quick gaze rested on mine. He was plump and bearded, with dark skin and large, gleaming eyes.
"Son, I am glad to see you. Say what you want. Would you like some perfume?"
"What for?" I thought his remark rather childish.
"To experience the miraculous way of enjoying perfumes."
"Harnessing God to make odors?"
"What of it? God makes perfume anyway."
"Yes, but He fashions frail bottles of petals for fresh use and discard. Can you materialize flowers?"
"I materialize perfumes, little friend."
"Then scent factories will go out of business."
"I will permit them to keep their trade! My own purpose is to demonstrate the power of God."
"Sir, is it necessary to prove God? Isn't He performing miracles in everything, everywhere?"
"Yes, but we too should manifest some of His infinite creative variety."
"How long did it take to master your art?"
"Twelve years."
"For manufacturing scents by astral means! It seems, my honored saint, you have been wasting a dozen years for fragrances which you can obtain with a few rupees from a florist's shop."
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 5
A "Perfume Saint" Displays His Wonders
"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven."
I did not have this wisdom of Solomon to comfort me; I gazed searchingly about me, on any excursion from home, for the face of my destined guru. But my path did not cross his own until after the completion of my high school studies.
Two years elapsed between my flight with Amar toward the Himalayas, and the great day of Sri Yukteswar's arrival into my life. During that interim I met a number of sages-the "Perfume Saint," the "Tiger Swami," Nagendra Nath Bhaduri, Master Mahasaya, and the famous Bengali scientist, Jagadis Chandra Bose.
My encounter with the "Perfume Saint" had two preambles, one harmonious and the other humorous.
"God is simple. Everything else is complex. Do not seek absolute values in the relative world of nature."
These philosophical finalities gently entered my ear as I stood silently before a temple image of Kali. Turning, I confronted a tall man whose garb, or lack of it, revealed him a wandering sadhu.
"You have indeed penetrated the bewilderment of my thoughts!" I smiled gratefully. "The confusion of benign and terrible aspects in nature, as symbolized by Kali1, has puzzled wiser heads than mine!"
"Few there be who solve her mystery! Good and evil is the challenging riddle which life places sphinxlike before every intelligence. Attempting no solution, most men pay forfeit with their lives, penalty now even as in the days of Thebes. Here and there, a towering lonely figure never cries defeat. From the maya2 of duality he plucks the cleaveless truth of unity."
"You speak with conviction, sir."
"I have long exercised an honest introspection, the exquisitely painful approach to wisdom. Self-scrutiny, relentless observance of one's thoughts, is a stark and shattering experience. It pulverizes the stoutest ego. But true self-analysis mathematically operates to produce seers. The way of 'self-expression,' individual acknowledgments, results in egotists, sure of the right to their private interpretations of God and the universe."
"Truth humbly retires, no doubt, before such arrogant originality." I was enjoying the discussion.
"Man can understand no eternal verity until he has freed himself from pretensions. The human mind, bared to a centuried slime, is teeming with repulsive life of countless world-delusions. Struggles of the battlefields pale into insignificance here, when man first contends with inward enemies! No mortal foes these, to be overcome by harrowing array of might! Omnipresent, unresting, pursuing man even in sleep, subtly equipped with a miasmic weapon, these soldiers of ignorant lusts seek to slay us all. Thoughtless is the man who buries his ideals, surrendering to the common fate. Can he seem other than impotent, wooden, ignominious?"
"Respected Sir, have you no sympathy for the bewildered masses?"
The sage was silent for a moment, then answered obliquely.
"To love both the invisible God, Repository of All Virtues, and visible man, apparently possessed of none, is often baffling! But ingenuity is equal to the maze. Inner research soon exposes a unity in all human minds-the stalwart kinship of selfish motive. In one sense at least, the brotherhood of man stands revealed. An aghast humility follows this leveling discovery. It ripens into compassion for one's fellows, blind to the healing potencies of the soul awaiting exploration."
"The saints of every age, sir, have felt like yourself for the sorrows of the world."
"Only the shallow man loses responsiveness to the woes of others' lives, as he sinks into narrow suffering of his own." The sadhu's austere face was noticeably softened. "The one who practices a scalpel self-dissection will know an expansion of universal pity. Release is given him from the deafening demands of his ego. The love of God flowers on such soil. The creature finally turns to his Creator, if for no other reason than to ask in anguish: 'Why, Lord, why?' By ignoble whips of pain, man is driven at last into the Infinite Presence, whose beauty alone should lure him."
The sage and I were present in Calcutta's Kalighat Temple, whither I had gone to view its famed magnificence. With a sweeping gesture, my chance companion dismissed the ornate dignity.
"Bricks and mortar sing us no audible tune; the heart opens only to the human chant of being."
We strolled to the inviting sunshine at the entrance, where throngs of devotees were passing to and fro.
"You are young." The sage surveyed me thoughtfully. "India too is young. The ancient rishis 3 laid down ineradicable patterns of spiritual living. Their hoary dictums suffice for this day and land. Not outmoded, not unsophisticated against the guiles of materialism, the disciplinary precepts mold India still. By millenniums-more than embarrassed scholars care to compute!-the skeptic Time has validated Vedic worth. Take it for your heritage."
As I was reverently bidding farewell to the eloquent sadhu, he revealed a clairvoyant perception:
"After you leave here today, an unusual experience will come your way."
I quitted the temple precincts and wandered along aimlessly. Turning a corner, I ran into an old acquaintance-one of those long-winded fellows whose conversational powers ignore time and embrace eternity.
"I will let you go in a very short while, if you will tell me all that has happened during the six years of our separation."
"What a paradox! I must leave you now."
But he held me by the hand, forcing out tidbits of information. He was like a ravenous wolf, I thought in amusement; the longer I spoke, the more hungrily he sniffed for news. Inwardly I petitioned the Goddess Kali to devise a graceful means of escape.
My companion left me abruptly. I sighed with relief and doubled my pace, dreading any relapse into the garrulous fever. Hearing rapid footsteps behind me, I quickened my speed. I dared not look back. But with a bound, the youth rejoined me, jovially clasping my shoulder.
"I forgot to tell you of Gandha Baba (Perfume Saint), who is gracing yonder house." He pointed to a dwelling a few yards distant. "Do meet him; he is interesting. You may have an unusual experience. Good-by," and he actually left me.
The similarly worded prediction of the sadhu at Kalighat Temple flashed to my mind. Definitely intrigued, I entered the house and was ushered into a commodious parlor. A crowd of people were sitting, Orient-wise, here and there on a thick orange-colored carpet. An awed whisper reached my ear:
"Behold Gandha Baba on the leopard skin. He can give the natural perfume of any flower to a scentless one, or revive a wilted blossom, or make a person's skin exude delightful fragrance."
I looked directly at the saint; his quick gaze rested on mine. He was plump and bearded, with dark skin and large, gleaming eyes.
"Son, I am glad to see you. Say what you want. Would you like some perfume?"
"What for?" I thought his remark rather childish.
"To experience the miraculous way of enjoying perfumes."
"Harnessing God to make odors?"
"What of it? God makes perfume anyway."
"Yes, but He fashions frail bottles of petals for fresh use and discard. Can you materialize flowers?"
"I materialize perfumes, little friend."
"Then scent factories will go out of business."
"I will permit them to keep their trade! My own purpose is to demonstrate the power of God."
"Sir, is it necessary to prove God? Isn't He performing miracles in everything, everywhere?"
"Yes, but we too should manifest some of His infinite creative variety."
"How long did it take to master your art?"
"Twelve years."
"For manufacturing scents by astral means! It seems, my honored saint, you have been wasting a dozen years for fragrances which you can obtain with a few rupees from a florist's shop."
Friday, October 17, 2008
devine mother- GOD
Autobiography of a Yogi
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 9
The Blissful Devotee and
His Cosmic Romance
"Little sir, please be seated. I am talking to my Divine Mother."
Silently I had entered the room in great awe. The angelic appearance of Master Mahasaya fairly dazzled me. With silky white beard and large lustrous eyes, he seemed an incarnation of purity. His upraised chin and folded hands apprized me that my first visit had disturbed him in the midst of his devotions.
His simple words of greeting produced the most violent effect my nature had so far experienced. The bitter separation of my mother's death I had thought the measure of all anguish. Now an agony at separation from my Divine Mother was an indescribable torture of the spirit. I fell moaning to the floor.
"Little sir, quiet yourself!" The saint was sympathetically distressed.
Abandoned in some oceanic desolation, I clutched his feet as the sole raft of my rescue.
"Holy sir, thy intercession! Ask Divine Mother if I find any favor in Her sight!"
This promise is one not easily bestowed; the master was constrained to silence.
Beyond reach of doubt, I was convinced that Master Mahasaya was in intimate converse with the Universal Mother. It was deep humiliation to realize that my eyes were blind to Her who even at this moment was perceptible to the faultless gaze of the saint. Shamelessly gripping his feet, deaf to his gentle remonstrances, I besought him again and again for his intervening grace.
"I will make your plea to the Beloved." The master's capitulation came with a slow, compassionate smile.
What power in those few words, that my being should know release from its stormy exile?
"Sir, remember your pledge! I shall return soon for Her message!" Joyful anticipation rang in my voice that only a moment ago had been sobbing in sorrow.
Descending the long stairway, I was overwhelmed by memories. This house at 50 Amherst Street, now the residence of Master Mahasaya, had once been my family home, scene of my mother's death. Here my human heart had broken for the vanished mother; and here today my spirit had been as though crucified by absence of the Divine Mother. Hallowed walls, silent witness of my grievous hurts and final healing!
My steps were eager as I returned to my Gurpar Road home. Seeking the seclusion of my small attic, I remained in meditation until ten o'clock. The darkness of the warm Indian night was suddenly lit with a wondrous vision.
Haloed in splendor, the Divine Mother stood before me. Her face, tenderly smiling, was beauty itself.
"Always have I loved thee! Ever shall I love thee!"
The celestial tones still ringing in the air, She disappeared.
The sun on the following morning had hardly risen to an angle of decorum when I paid my second visit to Master Mahasaya. Climbing the staircase in the house of poignant memories, I reached his fourth-floor room. The knob of the closed door was wrapped around with a cloth; a hint, I felt, that the saint desired privacy. As I stood irresolutely on the landing, the door was opened by the master's welcoming hand. I knelt at his holy feet. In a playful mood, I wore a solemn mask over my face, hiding the divine elation.
"Sir, I have come-very early, I confess!-for your message. Did the Beloved Mother say anything about me?"
"Mischievous little sir!"
Not another remark would he make. Apparently my assumed gravity was unimpressive.
"Why so mysterious, so evasive? Do saints never speak plainly?" Perhaps I was a little provoked.
"Must you test me?" His calm eyes were full of understanding. "Could I add a single word this morning to the assurance you received last night at ten o'clock from the Beautiful Mother Herself?"
Master Mahasaya possessed control over the flood-gates of my soul: again I plunged prostrate at his feet. But this time my tears welled from a bliss, and not a pain, past bearing.
"Think you that your devotion did not touch the Infinite Mercy? The Motherhood of God, that you have worshiped in forms both human and divine, could never fail to answer your forsaken cry."
Who was this simple saint, whose least request to the Universal Spirit met with sweet acquiescence? His role in the world was humble, as befitted the greatest man of humility I ever knew. In this Amherst Street house, Master Mahasaya 1 conducted a small high school for boys. No words of chastisement passed his lips; no rule and ferule maintained his discipline. Higher mathematics indeed were taught in these modest classrooms, and a chemistry of love absent from the textbooks. He spread his wisdom by spiritual contagion rather than impermeable precept. Consumed by an unsophisticated passion for the Divine Mother, the saint no more demanded the outward forms of respect than a child.
"I am not your guru; he shall come a little later," he told me. "Through his guidance, your experiences of the Divine in terms of love and devotion shall be translated into his terms of fathomless wisdom."
Every late afternoon, I betook myself to Amherst Street. I sought Master Mahasaya's divine cup, so full that its drops daily overflowed on my being. Never before had I bowed in utter reverence; now I felt it an immeasurable privilege even to tread the same ground which Master Mahasaya sanctified.
"Sir, please wear this champak garland I have fashioned especially for you." I arrived one evening, holding my chain of flowers. But shyly he drew away, repeatedly refusing the honor. Perceiving my hurt, he finally smiled consent.
"Since we are both devotees of the Mother, you may put the garland on this bodily temple, as offering to Her who dwells within." His vast nature lacked space in which any egotistical consideration could gain foothold.
"Let us go tomorrow to the Dakshineswar Temple, forever hallowed by my guru." Master Mahasaya was a disciple of a Christlike master, Sri Ramakrishna Paramhansa.
The four-mile journey on the following morning was taken by boat on the Ganges. We entered the nine-domed Temple of Kali, where the figures of the Divine Mother and Shiva rest on a burnished silver lotus, its thousand petals meticulously chiseled. Master Mahasaya beamed in enchantment. He was engaged in his inexhaustible romance with the Beloved. As he chanted Her name, my enraptured heart seemed shattered into a thousand pieces.
We strolled later through the sacred precincts, halting in a tamarisk grove. The manna characteristically exuded by this tree was symbolic of the heavenly food Master Mahasaya was bestowing. His divine invocations continued. I sat rigidly motionless on the grass amid the pink feathery tamarisk flowers. Temporarily absent from the body, I soared in a supernal visit.
This was the first of many pilgrimages to Dakshineswar with the holy teacher. From him I learned the sweetness of God in the aspect of Mother, or Divine Mercy. The childlike saint found little appeal in the Father aspect, or Divine Justice. Stern, exacting, mathematical judgment was alien to his gentle nature.
"He can serve as an earthly prototype for the very angels of heaven!" I thought fondly, watching him one day at his prayers. Without a breath of censure or criticism, he surveyed the world with eyes long familiar with the Primal Purity. His body, mind, speech, and actions were effortlessly harmonized with his soul's simplicity.
"My Master told me so." Shrinking from personal assertion, the saint ended any sage counsel with this invariable tribute. So deep was his identity with Sri Ramakrishna that Master Mahasaya no longer considered his thoughts as his own.
Hand in hand, the saint and I walked one evening on the block of his school. My joy was dimmed by the arrival of a conceited acquaintance who burdened us with a lengthy discourse.
"I see this man doesn't please you." The saint's whisper to me was unheard by the egotist, spellbound by his own monologue. "I have spoken to Divine Mother about it; She realizes our sad predicament. As soon as we get to yonder red house, She has promised to remind him of more urgent business."
My eyes were glued to the site of salvation. Reaching its red gate, the man unaccountably turned and departed, neither finishing his sentence nor saying good-by. The assaulted air was comforted with peace.
Another day found me walking alone near the Howrah railway station. I stood for a moment by a temple, silently criticizing a small group of men with drum and cymbals who were violently reciting a chant.
"How undevotionally they use the Lord's divine name in mechanical repetition," I reflected. My gaze was astonished by the rapid approach of Master Mahasaya. "Sir, how come you here?"
The saint, ignoring my question, answered my thought. "Isn't it true, little sir, that the Beloved's name sounds sweet from all lips, ignorant or wise?" He passed his arm around me affectionately; I found myself carried on his magic carpet to the Merciful Presence.
"Would you like to see some bioscopes?" This question one afternoon from Master Mahasaya was mystifying; the term was then used in India to signify motion pictures. I agreed, glad to be in his company in any circumstances. A brisk walk brought us to the garden fronting Calcutta University. My companion indicated a bench near the goldighi or pond.
"Let us sit here for a few minutes. My Master always asked me to meditate whenever I saw an expanse of water. Here its placidity reminds us of the vast calmness of God. As all things can be reflected in water, so the whole universe is mirrored in the lake of the Cosmic Mind. So my gurudeva often said."
Soon we entered a university hall where a lecture was in progress. It proved abysmally dull, though varied occasionally by lantern slide illustrations, equally uninteresting.
"So this is the kind of bioscope the master wanted me to see!" My thought was impatient, yet I would not hurt the saint by revealing boredom in my face. But he leaned toward me confidentially.
"I see, little sir, that you don't like this bioscope. I have mentioned it to Divine Mother; She is in full sympathy with us both. She tells me that the electric lights will now go out, and won't be relit until we have a chance to leave the room."
As his whisper ended, the hall was plunged into darkness. The professor's strident voice was stilled in astonishment, then remarked, "The electrical system of this hall appears to be defective." By this time, Master Mahasaya and I were safely across the threshold. Glancing back from the corridor, I saw that the scene of our martyrdom had again become illuminated.
"Little sir, you were disappointed in that bioscope,2 but I think you will like a different one." The saint and I were standing on the sidewalk in front of the university building. He gently slapped my chest over the heart.
A transforming silence ensued. Just as the modern "talkies" become inaudible motion pictures when the sound apparatus goes out of order, so the Divine Hand, by some strange miracle, stifled the earthly bustle. The pedestrians as well as the passing trolley cars, automobiles, bullock carts, and iron-wheeled hackney carriages were all in noiseless transit. As though possessing an omnipresent eye, I beheld the scenes which were behind me, and to each side, as easily as those in front. The whole spectacle of activity in that small section of Calcutta passed before me without a sound. Like a glow of fire dimly seen beneath a thin coat of ashes, a mellow luminescence permeated the panoramic view.
My own body seemed nothing more than one of the many shadows, though it was motionless, while the others flitted mutely to and fro. Several boys, friends of mine, approached and passed on; though they had looked directly at me, it was without recognition.
The unique pantomime brought me an inexpressible ecstasy. I drank deep from some blissful fount. Suddenly my chest received another soft blow from Master Mahasaya. The pandemonium of the world burst upon my unwilling ears. I staggered, as though harshly awakened from a gossamer dream. The transcendental wine removed beyond my reach.
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 9
The Blissful Devotee and
His Cosmic Romance
"Little sir, please be seated. I am talking to my Divine Mother."
Silently I had entered the room in great awe. The angelic appearance of Master Mahasaya fairly dazzled me. With silky white beard and large lustrous eyes, he seemed an incarnation of purity. His upraised chin and folded hands apprized me that my first visit had disturbed him in the midst of his devotions.
His simple words of greeting produced the most violent effect my nature had so far experienced. The bitter separation of my mother's death I had thought the measure of all anguish. Now an agony at separation from my Divine Mother was an indescribable torture of the spirit. I fell moaning to the floor.
"Little sir, quiet yourself!" The saint was sympathetically distressed.
Abandoned in some oceanic desolation, I clutched his feet as the sole raft of my rescue.
"Holy sir, thy intercession! Ask Divine Mother if I find any favor in Her sight!"
This promise is one not easily bestowed; the master was constrained to silence.
Beyond reach of doubt, I was convinced that Master Mahasaya was in intimate converse with the Universal Mother. It was deep humiliation to realize that my eyes were blind to Her who even at this moment was perceptible to the faultless gaze of the saint. Shamelessly gripping his feet, deaf to his gentle remonstrances, I besought him again and again for his intervening grace.
"I will make your plea to the Beloved." The master's capitulation came with a slow, compassionate smile.
What power in those few words, that my being should know release from its stormy exile?
"Sir, remember your pledge! I shall return soon for Her message!" Joyful anticipation rang in my voice that only a moment ago had been sobbing in sorrow.
Descending the long stairway, I was overwhelmed by memories. This house at 50 Amherst Street, now the residence of Master Mahasaya, had once been my family home, scene of my mother's death. Here my human heart had broken for the vanished mother; and here today my spirit had been as though crucified by absence of the Divine Mother. Hallowed walls, silent witness of my grievous hurts and final healing!
My steps were eager as I returned to my Gurpar Road home. Seeking the seclusion of my small attic, I remained in meditation until ten o'clock. The darkness of the warm Indian night was suddenly lit with a wondrous vision.
Haloed in splendor, the Divine Mother stood before me. Her face, tenderly smiling, was beauty itself.
"Always have I loved thee! Ever shall I love thee!"
The celestial tones still ringing in the air, She disappeared.
The sun on the following morning had hardly risen to an angle of decorum when I paid my second visit to Master Mahasaya. Climbing the staircase in the house of poignant memories, I reached his fourth-floor room. The knob of the closed door was wrapped around with a cloth; a hint, I felt, that the saint desired privacy. As I stood irresolutely on the landing, the door was opened by the master's welcoming hand. I knelt at his holy feet. In a playful mood, I wore a solemn mask over my face, hiding the divine elation.
"Sir, I have come-very early, I confess!-for your message. Did the Beloved Mother say anything about me?"
"Mischievous little sir!"
Not another remark would he make. Apparently my assumed gravity was unimpressive.
"Why so mysterious, so evasive? Do saints never speak plainly?" Perhaps I was a little provoked.
"Must you test me?" His calm eyes were full of understanding. "Could I add a single word this morning to the assurance you received last night at ten o'clock from the Beautiful Mother Herself?"
Master Mahasaya possessed control over the flood-gates of my soul: again I plunged prostrate at his feet. But this time my tears welled from a bliss, and not a pain, past bearing.
"Think you that your devotion did not touch the Infinite Mercy? The Motherhood of God, that you have worshiped in forms both human and divine, could never fail to answer your forsaken cry."
Who was this simple saint, whose least request to the Universal Spirit met with sweet acquiescence? His role in the world was humble, as befitted the greatest man of humility I ever knew. In this Amherst Street house, Master Mahasaya 1 conducted a small high school for boys. No words of chastisement passed his lips; no rule and ferule maintained his discipline. Higher mathematics indeed were taught in these modest classrooms, and a chemistry of love absent from the textbooks. He spread his wisdom by spiritual contagion rather than impermeable precept. Consumed by an unsophisticated passion for the Divine Mother, the saint no more demanded the outward forms of respect than a child.
"I am not your guru; he shall come a little later," he told me. "Through his guidance, your experiences of the Divine in terms of love and devotion shall be translated into his terms of fathomless wisdom."
Every late afternoon, I betook myself to Amherst Street. I sought Master Mahasaya's divine cup, so full that its drops daily overflowed on my being. Never before had I bowed in utter reverence; now I felt it an immeasurable privilege even to tread the same ground which Master Mahasaya sanctified.
"Sir, please wear this champak garland I have fashioned especially for you." I arrived one evening, holding my chain of flowers. But shyly he drew away, repeatedly refusing the honor. Perceiving my hurt, he finally smiled consent.
"Since we are both devotees of the Mother, you may put the garland on this bodily temple, as offering to Her who dwells within." His vast nature lacked space in which any egotistical consideration could gain foothold.
"Let us go tomorrow to the Dakshineswar Temple, forever hallowed by my guru." Master Mahasaya was a disciple of a Christlike master, Sri Ramakrishna Paramhansa.
The four-mile journey on the following morning was taken by boat on the Ganges. We entered the nine-domed Temple of Kali, where the figures of the Divine Mother and Shiva rest on a burnished silver lotus, its thousand petals meticulously chiseled. Master Mahasaya beamed in enchantment. He was engaged in his inexhaustible romance with the Beloved. As he chanted Her name, my enraptured heart seemed shattered into a thousand pieces.
We strolled later through the sacred precincts, halting in a tamarisk grove. The manna characteristically exuded by this tree was symbolic of the heavenly food Master Mahasaya was bestowing. His divine invocations continued. I sat rigidly motionless on the grass amid the pink feathery tamarisk flowers. Temporarily absent from the body, I soared in a supernal visit.
This was the first of many pilgrimages to Dakshineswar with the holy teacher. From him I learned the sweetness of God in the aspect of Mother, or Divine Mercy. The childlike saint found little appeal in the Father aspect, or Divine Justice. Stern, exacting, mathematical judgment was alien to his gentle nature.
"He can serve as an earthly prototype for the very angels of heaven!" I thought fondly, watching him one day at his prayers. Without a breath of censure or criticism, he surveyed the world with eyes long familiar with the Primal Purity. His body, mind, speech, and actions were effortlessly harmonized with his soul's simplicity.
"My Master told me so." Shrinking from personal assertion, the saint ended any sage counsel with this invariable tribute. So deep was his identity with Sri Ramakrishna that Master Mahasaya no longer considered his thoughts as his own.
Hand in hand, the saint and I walked one evening on the block of his school. My joy was dimmed by the arrival of a conceited acquaintance who burdened us with a lengthy discourse.
"I see this man doesn't please you." The saint's whisper to me was unheard by the egotist, spellbound by his own monologue. "I have spoken to Divine Mother about it; She realizes our sad predicament. As soon as we get to yonder red house, She has promised to remind him of more urgent business."
My eyes were glued to the site of salvation. Reaching its red gate, the man unaccountably turned and departed, neither finishing his sentence nor saying good-by. The assaulted air was comforted with peace.
Another day found me walking alone near the Howrah railway station. I stood for a moment by a temple, silently criticizing a small group of men with drum and cymbals who were violently reciting a chant.
"How undevotionally they use the Lord's divine name in mechanical repetition," I reflected. My gaze was astonished by the rapid approach of Master Mahasaya. "Sir, how come you here?"
The saint, ignoring my question, answered my thought. "Isn't it true, little sir, that the Beloved's name sounds sweet from all lips, ignorant or wise?" He passed his arm around me affectionately; I found myself carried on his magic carpet to the Merciful Presence.
"Would you like to see some bioscopes?" This question one afternoon from Master Mahasaya was mystifying; the term was then used in India to signify motion pictures. I agreed, glad to be in his company in any circumstances. A brisk walk brought us to the garden fronting Calcutta University. My companion indicated a bench near the goldighi or pond.
"Let us sit here for a few minutes. My Master always asked me to meditate whenever I saw an expanse of water. Here its placidity reminds us of the vast calmness of God. As all things can be reflected in water, so the whole universe is mirrored in the lake of the Cosmic Mind. So my gurudeva often said."
Soon we entered a university hall where a lecture was in progress. It proved abysmally dull, though varied occasionally by lantern slide illustrations, equally uninteresting.
"So this is the kind of bioscope the master wanted me to see!" My thought was impatient, yet I would not hurt the saint by revealing boredom in my face. But he leaned toward me confidentially.
"I see, little sir, that you don't like this bioscope. I have mentioned it to Divine Mother; She is in full sympathy with us both. She tells me that the electric lights will now go out, and won't be relit until we have a chance to leave the room."
As his whisper ended, the hall was plunged into darkness. The professor's strident voice was stilled in astonishment, then remarked, "The electrical system of this hall appears to be defective." By this time, Master Mahasaya and I were safely across the threshold. Glancing back from the corridor, I saw that the scene of our martyrdom had again become illuminated.
"Little sir, you were disappointed in that bioscope,2 but I think you will like a different one." The saint and I were standing on the sidewalk in front of the university building. He gently slapped my chest over the heart.
A transforming silence ensued. Just as the modern "talkies" become inaudible motion pictures when the sound apparatus goes out of order, so the Divine Hand, by some strange miracle, stifled the earthly bustle. The pedestrians as well as the passing trolley cars, automobiles, bullock carts, and iron-wheeled hackney carriages were all in noiseless transit. As though possessing an omnipresent eye, I beheld the scenes which were behind me, and to each side, as easily as those in front. The whole spectacle of activity in that small section of Calcutta passed before me without a sound. Like a glow of fire dimly seen beneath a thin coat of ashes, a mellow luminescence permeated the panoramic view.
My own body seemed nothing more than one of the many shadows, though it was motionless, while the others flitted mutely to and fro. Several boys, friends of mine, approached and passed on; though they had looked directly at me, it was without recognition.
The unique pantomime brought me an inexpressible ecstasy. I drank deep from some blissful fount. Suddenly my chest received another soft blow from Master Mahasaya. The pandemonium of the world burst upon my unwilling ears. I staggered, as though harshly awakened from a gossamer dream. The transcendental wine removed beyond my reach.
fearlessness
October 17 Courage
Fearlessness means faith in God: faith in His protection, His justice, His wisdom, His mercy, His love, and His omnipresence....To be fit for Self-realization a man must be fearless.
—Sri Sri Paramahansa Yogananda, “Yogoda Magazine”
Fearlessness means faith in God: faith in His protection, His justice, His wisdom, His mercy, His love, and His omnipresence....To be fit for Self-realization a man must be fearless.
—Sri Sri Paramahansa Yogananda, “Yogoda Magazine”
naitikata jaroori
अमेरिका की आर्थिक हालत चरमराने के पीछे कारण क्या है? क्यों मेरील लिंच डूब गई? अपने भारत में क्यों रिज़र्व बैंक को बाज़ार में पैसा झोंकना जरूरी हो gaya?
क्योंकि ज्यादातर लोगों के भीतर से नैतिकता गायब हो गई है. हर जगह बेईमानी, भ्रस्ताचार और अनैतिकता का बोलबाला है. अगर कोई इमानदार है तो उसे बेवकूफ समझा जाता है.
जहाँ ईमान नहीं, वहाँ विपत्ति आराम से बैठी रहती है. हमारे ऋषि और मुनि इसीलिए सिर्फ़ अपना नहीं सभी ka विकास करने ki बात कह गए हैं.
सर्वे भवंतu सुखिनः, सर्वे सन्तु niramayah
क्योंकि ज्यादातर लोगों के भीतर से नैतिकता गायब हो गई है. हर जगह बेईमानी, भ्रस्ताचार और अनैतिकता का बोलबाला है. अगर कोई इमानदार है तो उसे बेवकूफ समझा जाता है.
जहाँ ईमान नहीं, वहाँ विपत्ति आराम से बैठी रहती है. हमारे ऋषि और मुनि इसीलिए सिर्फ़ अपना नहीं सभी ka विकास करने ki बात कह गए हैं.
सर्वे भवंतu सुखिनः, सर्वे सन्तु niramayah
Thursday, October 16, 2008
a portion of autobiography of a yogi, by- paramhansa yogananda (a great yogi)
Autobiography of a Yogi
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 27
Founding a Yoga School in Ranchi
"Why are you averse to organizational work?"
Master's question startled me a bit. It is true that my private conviction at the time was that organizations were "hornets' nests."
"It is a thankless task, sir," I answered. "No matter what the leader does or does not, he is criticized."
"Do you want the whole divine channa (milk curd) for yourself alone?" My guru's retort was accompanied by a stern glance. "Could you or anyone else achieve God-contact through yoga if a line of generous-hearted masters had not been willing to convey their knowledge to others?" He added, "God is the Honey, organizations are the hives; both are necessary. Any form is useless, of course, without the spirit, but why should you not start busy hives full of the spiritual nectar?"
His counsel moved me deeply. Although I made no outward reply, an adamant resolution arose in my breast: I would share with my fellows, so far as lay in my power, the unshackling truths I had learned at my guru's feet. "Lord," I prayed, "may Thy Love shine forever on the sanctuary of my devotion, and may I be able to awaken that Love in other hearts."
On a previous occasion, before I had joined the monastic order, Sri Yukteswar had made a most unexpected remark.
"How you will miss the companionship of a wife in your old age!" he had said. "Do you not agree that the family man, engaged in useful work to maintain his wife and children, thus plays a rewarding role in God's eyes?"
"Sir," I had protested in alarm, "you know that my desire in this life is to espouse only the Cosmic Beloved."
Master had laughed so merrily that I understood his observation was made merely as a test of my faith.
"Remember," he had said slowly, "that he who discards his worldly duties can justify himself only by assuming some kind of responsibility toward a much larger family."
The ideal of an all-sided education for youth had always been close to my heart. I saw clearly the arid results of ordinary instruction, aimed only at the development of body and intellect. Moral and spiritual values, without whose appreciation no man can approach happiness, were yet lacking in the formal curriculum. I determined to found a school where young boys could develop to the full stature of manhood. My first step in that direction was made with seven children at Dihika, a small country site in Bengal.
A year later, in 1918, through the generosity of Sir Manindra Chandra Nundy, the Maharaja of Kasimbazar, I was able to transfer my fast-growing group to Ranchi. This town in Bihar, about two hundred miles from Calcutta, is blessed with one of the most healthful climates in India. The Kasimbazar Palace at Ranchi was transformed into the headquarters for the new school, which I called Brahmacharya Vidyalaya1 in accordance with the educational ideals of the rishis. Their forest ashrams had been the ancient seats of learning, secular and divine, for the youth of India.
At Ranchi I organized an educational program for both grammar and high school grades. It included agricultural, industrial, commercial, and academic subjects. The students were also taught yoga concentration and meditation, and a unique system of physical development, "Yogoda," whose principles I had discovered in 1916.
Realizing that man's body is like an electric battery, I reasoned that it could be recharged with energy through the direct agency of the human will. As no action, slight or large, is possible without willing, man can avail himself of his prime mover, will, to renew his bodily tissues without burdensome apparatus or mechanical exercises. I therefore taught the Ranchi students my simple "Yogoda" techniques by which the life force, centred in man's medulla oblongata, can be consciously and instantly recharged from the unlimited supply of cosmic energy.
The boys responded wonderfully to this training, developing extraordinary ability to shift the life energy from one part of the body to another part, and to sit in perfect poise in difficult body postures.2 They performed feats of strength and endurance which many powerful adults could not equal. My youngest brother, Bishnu Charan Ghosh, joined the Ranchi school; he later became a leading physical culturist in Bengal. He and one of his students traveled to Europe and America, giving exhibitions of strength and skill which amazed the university savants, including those at Columbia University in New York.
At the end of the first year at Ranchi, applications for admission reached two thousand. But the school, which at that time was solely residential, could accommodate only about one hundred. Instruction for day students was soon added.
In the Vidyalaya I had to play father-mother to the little children, and to cope with many organizational difficulties. I often remembered Christ's words: "Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house, or brethren or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake, and the gospel's, but he shall receive an hundredfold now in this time, houses and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal life." 3 Sri Yukteswar had interpreted these words: "The devotee who forgoes the life-experiences of marriage and family, and exchanges the problems of a small household and limited activities for the larger responsibilities of service to society in general, is undertaking a task which is often accompanied by persecution from a misunderstanding world, but also by a divine inner contentment."
One day my father arrived in Ranchi to bestow a paternal blessing, long withheld because I had hurt him by refusing his offer of a position with the Bengal-Nagpur Railway.
"Son," he said, "I am now reconciled to your choice in life. It gives me joy to see you amidst these happy, eager youngsters; you belong here rather than with the lifeless figures of railroad timetables." He waved toward a group of a dozen little ones who were tagging at my heels. "I had only eight children," he observed with twinkling eyes, "but I can feel for you!"
With a large fruit orchard and twenty-five fertile acres at our disposal, the students, teachers, and myself enjoyed many happy hours of outdoor labor in these ideal surroundings. We had many pets, including a young deer who was fairly idolized by the children. I too loved the fawn so much that I allowed it to sleep in my room. At the light of dawn, the little creature would toddle over to my bed for a morning caress.
One day I fed the pet earlier than usual, as I had to attend to some business in the town of Ranchi. Although I cautioned the boys not to feed the fawn until my return, one of them was disobedient, and gave the baby deer a large quantity of milk. When I came back in the evening, sad news greeted me: "The little fawn is nearly dead, through over feeding."
In tears, I placed the apparently lifeless pet on my lap. I prayed piteously to God to spare its life. Hours later, the small creature opened its eyes, stood up, and walked feebly. The whole school shouted for joy.
But a deep lesson came to me that night, one I can never forget. I stayed up with the fawn until two o'clock, when I fell asleep. The deer appeared in a dream, and spoke to me:
"You are holding me back. Please let me go; let me go!"
"All right," I answered in the dream.
I awoke immediately, and cried out, "Boys, the deer is dying!" The children rushed to my side.
I ran to the corner of the room where I had placed the pet. It made a last effort to rise, stumbled toward me, then dropped at my feet, dead.
According to the mass karma which guides and regulates the destinies of animals, the deer's life was over, and it was ready to progress to a higher form. But by my deep attachment, which I later realized was selfish, and by my fervent prayers, I had been able to hold it in the limitations of the animal form from which the soul was struggling for release. The soul of the deer made its plea in a dream because, without my loving permission, it either would not or could not go. As soon as I agreed, it departed.
All sorrow left me; I realized anew that God wants His children to love everything as a part of Him, and not to feel delusively that death ends all. The ignorant man sees only the unsurmountable wall of death, hiding, seemingly forever, his cherished friends. But the man of unattachment, he who loves others as expressions of the Lord, understands that at death the dear ones have only returned for a breathing-space of joy in Him.
The Ranchi school grew from small and simple beginnings to an institution now well-known in India. Many departments of the school are supported by voluntary contributions from those who rejoice in perpetuating the educational ideals of the rishis. Under the general name of Yogoda Sat-Sanga,4 flourishing branch schools have been established at Midnapore, Lakshmanpur, and Puri.
The Ranchi headquarters maintains a Medical Department where medicines and the services of doctors are supplied freely to the poor of the locality. The number treated has averaged more than 18,000 persons a year. The Vidyalaya has made its mark, too, in Indian competitive sports, and in the scholastic field, where many Ranchi alumni have distinguished themselves in later university life.
The school, now in its twenty-eighth year and the center of many activities,5 has been honored by visits of eminent men from the East and the West. One of the earliest great figures to inspect the Vidyalaya in its first year was Swami Pranabananda, the Benares "saint with two bodies." As the great master viewed the picturesque outdoor classes, held under the trees, and saw in the evening that young boys were sitting motionless for hours in yoga meditation, he was profoundly moved.
"Joy comes to my heart," he said, "to see that Lahiri Mahasaya's ideals for the proper training of youth are being carried on in this institution. My guru's blessings be on it."
A young lad sitting by my side ventured to ask the great yogi a question.
"Sir," he said, "shall I be a monk? Is my life only for God?"
Though Swami Pranabananda smiled gently, his eyes were piercing the future.
"Child," he replied, "when you grow up, there is a beautiful bride waiting for you." The boy did eventually marry, after having planned for years to enter the Swami Order.
Sometime after Swami Pranabananda had visited Ranchi, I accompanied my father to the Calcutta house where the yogi was temporarily staying. Pranabananda's prediction, made to me so many years before, came rushing to my mind: "I shall see you, with your father, later on."
As Father entered the swami's room, the great yogi rose from his seat and embraced my parent with loving respect.
"Bhagabati," he said, "what are you doing about yourself? Don't you see your son racing to the Infinite?" I blushed to hear his praise before my father. The swami went on, "You recall how often our blessed guru used to say: 'Banat, banat, ban jai.'6 So keep up Kriya Yoga ceaselessly, and reach the divine portals quickly."
The body of Pranabananda, which had appeared so well and strong during my amazing first visit to him in Benares, now showed definite aging, though his posture was still admirably erect.
(Original 1946 Edition)
by Paramhansa Yogananda
CHAPTER 27
Founding a Yoga School in Ranchi
"Why are you averse to organizational work?"
Master's question startled me a bit. It is true that my private conviction at the time was that organizations were "hornets' nests."
"It is a thankless task, sir," I answered. "No matter what the leader does or does not, he is criticized."
"Do you want the whole divine channa (milk curd) for yourself alone?" My guru's retort was accompanied by a stern glance. "Could you or anyone else achieve God-contact through yoga if a line of generous-hearted masters had not been willing to convey their knowledge to others?" He added, "God is the Honey, organizations are the hives; both are necessary. Any form is useless, of course, without the spirit, but why should you not start busy hives full of the spiritual nectar?"
His counsel moved me deeply. Although I made no outward reply, an adamant resolution arose in my breast: I would share with my fellows, so far as lay in my power, the unshackling truths I had learned at my guru's feet. "Lord," I prayed, "may Thy Love shine forever on the sanctuary of my devotion, and may I be able to awaken that Love in other hearts."
On a previous occasion, before I had joined the monastic order, Sri Yukteswar had made a most unexpected remark.
"How you will miss the companionship of a wife in your old age!" he had said. "Do you not agree that the family man, engaged in useful work to maintain his wife and children, thus plays a rewarding role in God's eyes?"
"Sir," I had protested in alarm, "you know that my desire in this life is to espouse only the Cosmic Beloved."
Master had laughed so merrily that I understood his observation was made merely as a test of my faith.
"Remember," he had said slowly, "that he who discards his worldly duties can justify himself only by assuming some kind of responsibility toward a much larger family."
The ideal of an all-sided education for youth had always been close to my heart. I saw clearly the arid results of ordinary instruction, aimed only at the development of body and intellect. Moral and spiritual values, without whose appreciation no man can approach happiness, were yet lacking in the formal curriculum. I determined to found a school where young boys could develop to the full stature of manhood. My first step in that direction was made with seven children at Dihika, a small country site in Bengal.
A year later, in 1918, through the generosity of Sir Manindra Chandra Nundy, the Maharaja of Kasimbazar, I was able to transfer my fast-growing group to Ranchi. This town in Bihar, about two hundred miles from Calcutta, is blessed with one of the most healthful climates in India. The Kasimbazar Palace at Ranchi was transformed into the headquarters for the new school, which I called Brahmacharya Vidyalaya1 in accordance with the educational ideals of the rishis. Their forest ashrams had been the ancient seats of learning, secular and divine, for the youth of India.
At Ranchi I organized an educational program for both grammar and high school grades. It included agricultural, industrial, commercial, and academic subjects. The students were also taught yoga concentration and meditation, and a unique system of physical development, "Yogoda," whose principles I had discovered in 1916.
Realizing that man's body is like an electric battery, I reasoned that it could be recharged with energy through the direct agency of the human will. As no action, slight or large, is possible without willing, man can avail himself of his prime mover, will, to renew his bodily tissues without burdensome apparatus or mechanical exercises. I therefore taught the Ranchi students my simple "Yogoda" techniques by which the life force, centred in man's medulla oblongata, can be consciously and instantly recharged from the unlimited supply of cosmic energy.
The boys responded wonderfully to this training, developing extraordinary ability to shift the life energy from one part of the body to another part, and to sit in perfect poise in difficult body postures.2 They performed feats of strength and endurance which many powerful adults could not equal. My youngest brother, Bishnu Charan Ghosh, joined the Ranchi school; he later became a leading physical culturist in Bengal. He and one of his students traveled to Europe and America, giving exhibitions of strength and skill which amazed the university savants, including those at Columbia University in New York.
At the end of the first year at Ranchi, applications for admission reached two thousand. But the school, which at that time was solely residential, could accommodate only about one hundred. Instruction for day students was soon added.
In the Vidyalaya I had to play father-mother to the little children, and to cope with many organizational difficulties. I often remembered Christ's words: "Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house, or brethren or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake, and the gospel's, but he shall receive an hundredfold now in this time, houses and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal life." 3 Sri Yukteswar had interpreted these words: "The devotee who forgoes the life-experiences of marriage and family, and exchanges the problems of a small household and limited activities for the larger responsibilities of service to society in general, is undertaking a task which is often accompanied by persecution from a misunderstanding world, but also by a divine inner contentment."
One day my father arrived in Ranchi to bestow a paternal blessing, long withheld because I had hurt him by refusing his offer of a position with the Bengal-Nagpur Railway.
"Son," he said, "I am now reconciled to your choice in life. It gives me joy to see you amidst these happy, eager youngsters; you belong here rather than with the lifeless figures of railroad timetables." He waved toward a group of a dozen little ones who were tagging at my heels. "I had only eight children," he observed with twinkling eyes, "but I can feel for you!"
With a large fruit orchard and twenty-five fertile acres at our disposal, the students, teachers, and myself enjoyed many happy hours of outdoor labor in these ideal surroundings. We had many pets, including a young deer who was fairly idolized by the children. I too loved the fawn so much that I allowed it to sleep in my room. At the light of dawn, the little creature would toddle over to my bed for a morning caress.
One day I fed the pet earlier than usual, as I had to attend to some business in the town of Ranchi. Although I cautioned the boys not to feed the fawn until my return, one of them was disobedient, and gave the baby deer a large quantity of milk. When I came back in the evening, sad news greeted me: "The little fawn is nearly dead, through over feeding."
In tears, I placed the apparently lifeless pet on my lap. I prayed piteously to God to spare its life. Hours later, the small creature opened its eyes, stood up, and walked feebly. The whole school shouted for joy.
But a deep lesson came to me that night, one I can never forget. I stayed up with the fawn until two o'clock, when I fell asleep. The deer appeared in a dream, and spoke to me:
"You are holding me back. Please let me go; let me go!"
"All right," I answered in the dream.
I awoke immediately, and cried out, "Boys, the deer is dying!" The children rushed to my side.
I ran to the corner of the room where I had placed the pet. It made a last effort to rise, stumbled toward me, then dropped at my feet, dead.
According to the mass karma which guides and regulates the destinies of animals, the deer's life was over, and it was ready to progress to a higher form. But by my deep attachment, which I later realized was selfish, and by my fervent prayers, I had been able to hold it in the limitations of the animal form from which the soul was struggling for release. The soul of the deer made its plea in a dream because, without my loving permission, it either would not or could not go. As soon as I agreed, it departed.
All sorrow left me; I realized anew that God wants His children to love everything as a part of Him, and not to feel delusively that death ends all. The ignorant man sees only the unsurmountable wall of death, hiding, seemingly forever, his cherished friends. But the man of unattachment, he who loves others as expressions of the Lord, understands that at death the dear ones have only returned for a breathing-space of joy in Him.
The Ranchi school grew from small and simple beginnings to an institution now well-known in India. Many departments of the school are supported by voluntary contributions from those who rejoice in perpetuating the educational ideals of the rishis. Under the general name of Yogoda Sat-Sanga,4 flourishing branch schools have been established at Midnapore, Lakshmanpur, and Puri.
The Ranchi headquarters maintains a Medical Department where medicines and the services of doctors are supplied freely to the poor of the locality. The number treated has averaged more than 18,000 persons a year. The Vidyalaya has made its mark, too, in Indian competitive sports, and in the scholastic field, where many Ranchi alumni have distinguished themselves in later university life.
The school, now in its twenty-eighth year and the center of many activities,5 has been honored by visits of eminent men from the East and the West. One of the earliest great figures to inspect the Vidyalaya in its first year was Swami Pranabananda, the Benares "saint with two bodies." As the great master viewed the picturesque outdoor classes, held under the trees, and saw in the evening that young boys were sitting motionless for hours in yoga meditation, he was profoundly moved.
"Joy comes to my heart," he said, "to see that Lahiri Mahasaya's ideals for the proper training of youth are being carried on in this institution. My guru's blessings be on it."
A young lad sitting by my side ventured to ask the great yogi a question.
"Sir," he said, "shall I be a monk? Is my life only for God?"
Though Swami Pranabananda smiled gently, his eyes were piercing the future.
"Child," he replied, "when you grow up, there is a beautiful bride waiting for you." The boy did eventually marry, after having planned for years to enter the Swami Order.
Sometime after Swami Pranabananda had visited Ranchi, I accompanied my father to the Calcutta house where the yogi was temporarily staying. Pranabananda's prediction, made to me so many years before, came rushing to my mind: "I shall see you, with your father, later on."
As Father entered the swami's room, the great yogi rose from his seat and embraced my parent with loving respect.
"Bhagabati," he said, "what are you doing about yourself? Don't you see your son racing to the Infinite?" I blushed to hear his praise before my father. The swami went on, "You recall how often our blessed guru used to say: 'Banat, banat, ban jai.'6 So keep up Kriya Yoga ceaselessly, and reach the divine portals quickly."
The body of Pranabananda, which had appeared so well and strong during my amazing first visit to him in Benares, now showed definite aging, though his posture was still admirably erect.
the key updesha of raman maharshi
Ramana was a silent Teacher, if there was one. It would be more appropriate to call him the Silent One, for teaching denotes duality, the teacher and taught, while Ramana was, as a devotee wrote, “the Pure Non-dual Essence.” His most direct and profound teaching was transmitted in silence.
However, how many were there that could immediately hear or experience the unspoken, the unwritten word? Devotees and visitors asked questions and out of his boundless compassion Bhagavan answered them in his own inimitable way, as the following excerpts will show.
Happiness
All beings desire happiness always, happiness without a tinge of sorrow. At the same time everybody loves himself best. The cause for this love is only happiness. So, that happiness must lie in one self. Further, that happiness is daily experienced by everyone in sleep, when there is no mind. To attain that natural happiness one must know oneself. For that, Self-Enquiry 'Who am I?' is the chief means.
Consciousness
Existence or Consciousness is the only reality. Consciousness plus waking we call waking. Consciousness plus sleep we call sleep. Consciousness plus dream, we call dream. Consciousness is the screen on which all the pictures come and go. The screen is real, the pictures are mere shadows on it.
Mind
Mind is a wonderful force inherent in the Self. That which arises in this body as 'I' is the mind. When the subtle mind emerges through the brain and the senses, the gross names and forms are cognized. When it remains in the Heart, names and forms disappear. If the mind remains in the Heart, the 'I' or the ego which is the source of all thoughts will go, and the Self, the Real, Eternal 'I' alone will shine. Where there is not the slightest trace of the ego, there is the Self.
Who Am I ? Enquiry
For all thoughts the source is the 'I' thought. The mind will merge only by Self-enquiry 'Who am I?' The thought 'Who am l?' will destroy all other thoughts and finally kill itself also. If other thoughts arise, without trying to complete them, one must enquire to whom did this thought arise. What does it matter how many thoughts arise? As each thought arises one must be watchful and ask to whom is this thought occurring. The answer will be 'to me'. If you enquire 'Who am I?' the mind will return to its source (or where it issued from). The thought which arose will also submerge. As you practise like this more and more, the power of the mind to remain as its source is increased.
Surrender
There are two ways of achieving surrender. One is looking into the source of the 'I' and merging into that source. The other is feeling 'I am helpless myself, God alone is all powerful, and except by throwing myself completely on Him, there is no other means of safety for me', and thus gradually developing the conviction that God alone exists and the ego does not count. Both methods lead to the same goal. Complete surrender is another name for jnana or liberation.
The Three States :
Waking, Dream and Deep Sleep
There is no difference between the dream and the waking states except that the dream is short and the waking long. Both are the result of the mind. Our real state, called turiya (fourth), is beyond the waking, dream and sleep states.
Grace and Guru
I have not said that a Guru is not necessary. But a Guru need not always be in human form. First a person thinks that he is an inferior and that there is a superior, all-knowing, all powerful God who controls his own and the world's destiny and worships him or does Bhakti. When he reaches a certain stage and becomes fit for enlightenment, the same God whom he was worshipping comes as Guru and leads him on. That Guru comes only to tell him that ‘God is within yourself. Dive within and realize.’ God, Guru and the Self are the same.
Self - Realization
The state we call realization is simply being oneself, not knowing anything or becoming anything. If one has realized, he is that which alone is, and which alone has always been. He cannot describe that state. He can only be That. Of course, we loosely talk of Self-realization for want of a better term.
That which is, is peace. All that we need do is to keep quiet. Peace is our real nature. We spoil it. What is required is that we cease to spoil it.
Heart
In the center of the cavity of the Heart, the sole Brahman shines by itself as the Atman (Self) in the feeling of 'I-I'. Reach the Heart by diving within yourself, either with control of breath, or with thought concentrated on the quest of Self. You will thus get fixed in the Self.
Renunciation
Asked “How does a grihastha (householder) fare in the scheme of Moksha (liberation)?” Bhagavan said, “Why do you think you are a grihastha? If you go out as a sannyasi (ascetic), a similar thought that you are a sannyasi will haunt you. Whether you continue in the household or renounce it and go to the forest, your mind goes with you. The ego is the source of all thought. It creates the body and the world and makes you think you are a grihastha . If you renounce the world it will only substitute the thought sannyasi for grihastha and the environment of the forest for that of the household. But the mental obstacles will still be there. They even increase in the new surroundings. There is no help in change of environment. The obstacle is the mind. It must be got over whether at home or in the forest. If you can do it in the forest, why not at home? Therefore, why change your environment? Your efforts can be made even now - in whatever environment you are now. The environment will never change according to your desire.”
Fate and Free Will
Free will and destiny are ever existent. Destiny is the result of past action; it concerns the body. Let the body act as may suit it. Why are you concerned about it? Why do you pay attention to it? Free will and destiny last as long as the body lasts. But jnana transcends both. The Self is beyond knowledge and ignorance. Whatever happens, happens as the result of one's past actions, of divine will and of other factors.
There are only two ways to conquer destiny or be independent of it. One is to enquire for whom is this destiny and discover that only the ego is bound by destiny and not the Self and that the ego is non-existent.
The other way is to kill the ego by completely surrendering to the Lord, by realizing one's helplessness and saying all the time, 'Not I, but Thou, oh Lord' and giving up all sense of 'I' and ‘mine’, and leaving it to the Lord to do what he likes with you. Complete effacement of the ego is necessary to conquer destiny, whether you achieve this effacement through Self-enquiry or bhakti marga (path).
The Jnani
The jnani has attained Liberation even while alive, here and now. It is immaterial to him as to how, where and when he leaves the body. Some jnanis may appear to suffer, others may be in samadhi; still others may disappear from sight before death. But that makes no difference to their jnana. Such suffering is apparent, seems real to the onlooker, but is not felt by the jnani, for he has already transcended the mistaken identity of the Self with the body.
The jnani does not think he is the body. He does not even see the body. He sees only the Self in the body. If the body is not there, but only the Self, the question of its disappearing in any form does not arise.
However, how many were there that could immediately hear or experience the unspoken, the unwritten word? Devotees and visitors asked questions and out of his boundless compassion Bhagavan answered them in his own inimitable way, as the following excerpts will show.
Happiness
All beings desire happiness always, happiness without a tinge of sorrow. At the same time everybody loves himself best. The cause for this love is only happiness. So, that happiness must lie in one self. Further, that happiness is daily experienced by everyone in sleep, when there is no mind. To attain that natural happiness one must know oneself. For that, Self-Enquiry 'Who am I?' is the chief means.
Consciousness
Existence or Consciousness is the only reality. Consciousness plus waking we call waking. Consciousness plus sleep we call sleep. Consciousness plus dream, we call dream. Consciousness is the screen on which all the pictures come and go. The screen is real, the pictures are mere shadows on it.
Mind
Mind is a wonderful force inherent in the Self. That which arises in this body as 'I' is the mind. When the subtle mind emerges through the brain and the senses, the gross names and forms are cognized. When it remains in the Heart, names and forms disappear. If the mind remains in the Heart, the 'I' or the ego which is the source of all thoughts will go, and the Self, the Real, Eternal 'I' alone will shine. Where there is not the slightest trace of the ego, there is the Self.
Who Am I ? Enquiry
For all thoughts the source is the 'I' thought. The mind will merge only by Self-enquiry 'Who am I?' The thought 'Who am l?' will destroy all other thoughts and finally kill itself also. If other thoughts arise, without trying to complete them, one must enquire to whom did this thought arise. What does it matter how many thoughts arise? As each thought arises one must be watchful and ask to whom is this thought occurring. The answer will be 'to me'. If you enquire 'Who am I?' the mind will return to its source (or where it issued from). The thought which arose will also submerge. As you practise like this more and more, the power of the mind to remain as its source is increased.
Surrender
There are two ways of achieving surrender. One is looking into the source of the 'I' and merging into that source. The other is feeling 'I am helpless myself, God alone is all powerful, and except by throwing myself completely on Him, there is no other means of safety for me', and thus gradually developing the conviction that God alone exists and the ego does not count. Both methods lead to the same goal. Complete surrender is another name for jnana or liberation.
The Three States :
Waking, Dream and Deep Sleep
There is no difference between the dream and the waking states except that the dream is short and the waking long. Both are the result of the mind. Our real state, called turiya (fourth), is beyond the waking, dream and sleep states.
Grace and Guru
I have not said that a Guru is not necessary. But a Guru need not always be in human form. First a person thinks that he is an inferior and that there is a superior, all-knowing, all powerful God who controls his own and the world's destiny and worships him or does Bhakti. When he reaches a certain stage and becomes fit for enlightenment, the same God whom he was worshipping comes as Guru and leads him on. That Guru comes only to tell him that ‘God is within yourself. Dive within and realize.’ God, Guru and the Self are the same.
Self - Realization
The state we call realization is simply being oneself, not knowing anything or becoming anything. If one has realized, he is that which alone is, and which alone has always been. He cannot describe that state. He can only be That. Of course, we loosely talk of Self-realization for want of a better term.
That which is, is peace. All that we need do is to keep quiet. Peace is our real nature. We spoil it. What is required is that we cease to spoil it.
Heart
In the center of the cavity of the Heart, the sole Brahman shines by itself as the Atman (Self) in the feeling of 'I-I'. Reach the Heart by diving within yourself, either with control of breath, or with thought concentrated on the quest of Self. You will thus get fixed in the Self.
Renunciation
Asked “How does a grihastha (householder) fare in the scheme of Moksha (liberation)?” Bhagavan said, “Why do you think you are a grihastha? If you go out as a sannyasi (ascetic), a similar thought that you are a sannyasi will haunt you. Whether you continue in the household or renounce it and go to the forest, your mind goes with you. The ego is the source of all thought. It creates the body and the world and makes you think you are a grihastha . If you renounce the world it will only substitute the thought sannyasi for grihastha and the environment of the forest for that of the household. But the mental obstacles will still be there. They even increase in the new surroundings. There is no help in change of environment. The obstacle is the mind. It must be got over whether at home or in the forest. If you can do it in the forest, why not at home? Therefore, why change your environment? Your efforts can be made even now - in whatever environment you are now. The environment will never change according to your desire.”
Fate and Free Will
Free will and destiny are ever existent. Destiny is the result of past action; it concerns the body. Let the body act as may suit it. Why are you concerned about it? Why do you pay attention to it? Free will and destiny last as long as the body lasts. But jnana transcends both. The Self is beyond knowledge and ignorance. Whatever happens, happens as the result of one's past actions, of divine will and of other factors.
There are only two ways to conquer destiny or be independent of it. One is to enquire for whom is this destiny and discover that only the ego is bound by destiny and not the Self and that the ego is non-existent.
The other way is to kill the ego by completely surrendering to the Lord, by realizing one's helplessness and saying all the time, 'Not I, but Thou, oh Lord' and giving up all sense of 'I' and ‘mine’, and leaving it to the Lord to do what he likes with you. Complete effacement of the ego is necessary to conquer destiny, whether you achieve this effacement through Self-enquiry or bhakti marga (path).
The Jnani
The jnani has attained Liberation even while alive, here and now. It is immaterial to him as to how, where and when he leaves the body. Some jnanis may appear to suffer, others may be in samadhi; still others may disappear from sight before death. But that makes no difference to their jnana. Such suffering is apparent, seems real to the onlooker, but is not felt by the jnani, for he has already transcended the mistaken identity of the Self with the body.
The jnani does not think he is the body. He does not even see the body. He sees only the Self in the body. If the body is not there, but only the Self, the question of its disappearing in any form does not arise.
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