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Home > Free Online Inspiration > Books Online > Autobiography of a Yogi > Chapter 36 |
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Books Online
by Paramhansa Yogananda CHAPTER 36 Babaji's Interest in the West |
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"Master, did you ever meet Babaji?" It was a calm summer night in Serampore; the large stars of the tropics gleamed over our heads as I sat by Sri Yukteswar's side on the second-story balcony of the hermitage. "Yes." Master smiled at my direct question; his eyes lit with reverence. "Three times I have been blessed by the sight of the deathless guru. Our first meeting was in Allahabad at a Kumbha Mela." The religious fairs held in India since time immemorial are known as Kumbha Melas; they have kept spiritual goals in constant sight of the multitude. Devout Hindus gather by the millions every six years to meet thousands of sadhus, yogis, swamis, and ascetics of all kinds. Many are hermits who never leave their secluded haunts except to attend the melas and bestow their blessings on worldly men and women. "I was not a swami at the time I met Babaji," Sri Yukteswar went on. "But I had already received Kriya initiation from Lahiri Mahasaya. He encouraged me to attend the mela which was convening in January, 1894 at Allahabad. It was my first experience of a kumbha; I felt slightly dazed by the clamor and surge of the crowd. In my searching gazes around I saw no illumined face of a master. Passing a bridge on the bank of the Ganges, I noticed an acquaintance standing near-by, his begging bowl extended. "'Oh, this fair is nothing but a chaos of noise and beggars,' I thought in disillusionment. 'I wonder if Western scientists, patiently enlarging the realms of knowledge for the practical good of mankind, are not more pleasing to God than these idlers who profess religion but concentrate on alms.' "My smouldering reflections on social reform were interrupted by the voice of a tall sannyasi who halted before me. "'Sir,' he said, 'a saint is calling you.' "'Who is he?' "'Come and see for yourself.' "Hesitantly following this laconic advice, I soon found myself near a tree whose branches were sheltering a guru with an attractive group of disciples. The master, a bright unusual figure, with sparkling dark eyes, rose at my approach and embraced me. "'Welcome, Swamiji,' he said affectionately. "'Sir,' I replied emphatically, 'I am not a swami.' "'Those
on whom I am divinely directed to bestow the title of "swami"
never cast it off.' The saint addressed me simply, but deep conviction
of truth rang in his words; I was engulfed in an instant wave of spiritual
blessing. Smiling at my sudden elevation into the ancient monastic order,1
I bowed at the feet of the obviously great and angelic being in human
form who had thus honored me.
"Babaji-for it
was indeed he-motioned me to a seat near him under the tree. He was strong
and young, and looked like Lahiri Mahasaya; yet the resemblance did not
strike me, even though I had often heard of the extraordinary similarities
in the appearance of the two masters. Babaji possesses a power by which
he can prevent any specific thought from arising in a person's mind. Evidently
the great guru wished me to be perfectly natural in his presence, not
overawed by knowledge of his identity.
"'What
do you think of the Kumbha Mela?'
"'I was greatly
disappointed, sir.' I added hastily, 'Up until the time I met you. Somehow
saints and this commotion don't seem to belong together.'
"'Child,'
the master said, though apparently I was nearly twice his own age, 'for
the faults of the many, judge not the whole. Everything on earth is of
mixed character, like a mingling of sand and sugar. Be like the wise ant
which seizes only the sugar, and leaves the sand untouched. Though many
sadhus here still wander in delusion, yet the mela is blessed by
a few men of God-realization.'
"In view of my
own meeting with this exalted master, I quickly agreed with his observation.
"'Sir,'
I commented, 'I have been thinking of the scientific men of the West,
greater by far in intelligence than most people congregated here, living
in distant Europe and America, professing different creeds, and ignorant
of the real values of such melas as the present one. They are the
men who could benefit greatly by meetings with India's masters. But, although
high in intellectual attainments, many Westerners are wedded to rank materialism.
Others, famous in science and philosophy, do not recognize the essential
unity in religion. Their creeds serve as insurmountable barriers that
threaten to separate them from us forever.'
"'I saw that
you are interested in the West, as well as the East.' Babaji's face beamed
with approval. 'I felt the pangs of your heart, broad enough for all men,
whether Oriental or Occidental. That is why I summoned you here.
"'East and West
must establish a golden middle path of activity and spirituality combined,'
he continued. 'India has much to learn from the West in material development;
in return, India can teach the universal methods by which the West will
be able to base its religious beliefs on the unshakable foundations of
yogic science.
"'You, Swamiji,
have a part to play in the coming harmonious exchange between Orient and
Occident. Some years hence I shall send you a disciple whom you can train
for yoga dissemination in the West. The vibrations there of many spiritually
seeking souls come floodlike to me. I perceive potential saints in America
and Europe, waiting to be awakened.'"
At this point in his
story, Sri Yukteswar turned his gaze fully on mine.
"My son,"
he said, smiling in the moonlight, "you are the disciple that, years
ago, Babaji promised to send me."
I was happy to learn
that Babaji had directed my steps to Sri Yukteswar, yet it was hard for
me to visualize myself in the remote West, away from my beloved guru and
the simple hermitage peace.
"Babaji
then spoke of the Bhagavad Gita," Sri Yukteswar went on. "To
my astonishment, he indicated by a few words of praise that he was aware
of the fact that I had written interpretations on various Gita
chapters.
"'At my request,
Swamiji, please undertake another task,' the great master said. 'Will
you not write a short book on the underlying basic unity between the Christian
and Hindu scriptures? Show by parallel references that the inspired sons
of God have spoken the same truths, now obscured by men's sectarian
differences.'
"'Maharaj,'2
I answered diffidently,
'what a command! Shall I be able to fulfill it?'
"Babaji laughed
softly. 'My son, why do you doubt?' he said reassuringly. 'Indeed, Whose
work is all this, and Who is the Doer of all actions? Whatever the Lord
has made me say is bound to materialize as truth.'
"I deemed myself
empowered by the blessings of the saint, and agreed to write the book.
Feeling reluctantly that the parting-hour had arrived, I rose from my
leafy seat.
"'Do
you know Lahiri?'3
the master inquired. 'He is a great soul, isn't he? Tell him of our meeting.'
He then gave me a message for Lahiri Mahasaya.
"After I had
bowed humbly in farewell, the saint smiled benignly. 'When your book is
finished, I shall pay you a visit,' he promised. 'Good-by for the present.'
"I
left Allahabad the following day and entrained for Benares. Reaching my
guru's home, I poured out the story of the wonderful saint at the Kumbha
Mela.
"'Oh,
didn't you recognize him?' Lahiri Mahasaya's eyes were dancing with laughter.
'I see you couldn't, for he prevented you. He is my incomparable guru,
the celestial Babaji!'
"'Babaji!' I
repeated, awestruck. 'The Yogi-Christ Babaji! The invisible-visible savior
Babaji! Oh, if I could just recall the past and be once more in his presence,
to show my devotion at his lotus feet!'
"'Never mind,'
Lahiri Mahasaya said consolingly. 'He has promised to see you again.'
"'Gurudeva, the
divine master asked me to give you a message. "Tell Lahiri,"
he said, "that the stored-up power for this life now runs low; it
is nearly finished."'
"At my utterance
of these enigmatic words, Lahiri Mahasaya's figure trembled as though
touched by a lightning current. In an instant everything about him fell
silent; his smiling countenance turned incredibly stern. Like a wooden
statue, somber and immovable in its seat, his body became colorless. I
was alarmed and bewildered. Never in my life had I seen this joyous soul
manifest such awful gravity. The other disciples present stared apprehensively.
"Three hours
passed in utter silence. Then Lahiri Mahasaya resumed his natural, cheerful
demeanor, and spoke affectionately to each of the chelas. Everyone sighed
in relief.
"I realized by
my master's reaction that Babaji's message had been an unmistakable signal
by which Lahiri Mahasaya understood that his body would soon be untenanted.
His awesome silence proved that my guru had instantly controlled his being,
cut his last cord of attachment to the material world, and fled to his
ever-living identity in Spirit. Babaji's remark had been his way of saying:
'I shall be ever with you.'
"Though Babaji
and Lahiri Mahasaya were omniscient, and had no need of communicating
with each other through me or any other intermediary, the great ones often
condescend to play a part in the human drama. Occasionally they transmit
their prophecies through messengers in an ordinary way, that the final
fulfillment of their words may infuse greater divine faith in a wide circle
of men who later learn the story.
"I soon left
Benares, and set to work in Serampore on the scriptural writings requested
by Babaji," Sri Yukteswar continued. "No sooner had I begun
my task than I was able to compose a poem dedicated to the deathless guru.
The melodious lines flowed effortlessly from my pen, though never before
had I attempted Sanskrit poetry.
"In
the quiet of night I busied myself over a comparison of the Bible and
the scriptures of Sanatan Dharma. 4
Quoting the words of the blessed Lord Jesus, I showed that his teachings
were in essence one with the revelations of the Vedas. To my relief,
my book was finished in a short time; I realized that this speedy blessing
was due to the grace of my Param-Guru-Maharaj.5
The chapters
first appeared in the Sadhusambad journal; later they were privately
printed as a book by one of my Kidderpore disciples.
"The morning
after I had concluded my literary efforts," Master continued, "I
went to the Rai Ghat here to bathe in the Ganges. The ghat was deserted;
I stood still for awhile, enjoying the sunny peace. After a dip in the
sparkling waters, I started for home. The only sound in the silence was
that of my Ganges-drenched cloth, swish-swashing with every step. As I
passed beyond the site of the large banyan tree near the river bank, a
strong impulse urged me to look back. There, under the shade of the banyan,
and surrounded by a few disciples, sat the great Babaji!
"'Greetings,
Swamiji!' The beautiful voice of the master rang out to assure me I was
not dreaming. 'I see you have successfully completed your book. As I promised,
I am here to thank you.'
"With a fast-beating
heart, I prostrated myself fully at his feet. 'Param-guruji,' I said imploringly,
'will you and your chelas not honor my near-by home with your presence?'
"The supreme
guru smilingly declined. 'No, child,' he said, 'we are people who like
the shelter of trees; this spot is quite comfortable.'
"'Please tarry
awhile, Master.' I gazed entreatingly at him. 'I shall be back at once
with some special sweetmeats.'
"When I returned
in a few minutes with a dish of delicacies, lo! the lordly banyan no longer
sheltered the celestial troupe. I searched all around the ghat, but in
my heart I knew the little band had already fled on etheric wings.
"I was deeply
hurt. 'Even if we meet again, I would not care to talk to him,' I assured
myself. 'He was unkind to leave me so suddenly.' This was a wrath of love,
of course, and nothing more.
"A few months
later I visited Lahiri Mahasaya in Benares. As I entered his little parlor,
my guru smiled in greeting.
"'Welcome, Yukteswar,'
he said. 'Did you just meet Babaji at the threshold of my room?'
"'Why, no,' I
answered in surprise.
"'Come here.'
Lahiri Mahasaya touched me gently on the forehead; at once I beheld, near
the door, the form of Babaji, blooming like a perfect lotus.
"I remembered
my old hurt, and did not bow. Lahiri Mahasaya looked at me in astonishment.
"The divine guru
gazed at me with fathomless eyes. 'You are annoyed with me.'
"'Sir, why shouldn't
I be?' I answered. 'Out of the air you came with your magic group, and
into the thin air you vanished.'
"'I told you
I would see you, but didn't say how long I would remain.' Babaji laughed
softly. 'You were full of excitement. I assure you that I was fairly extinguished
in the ether by the gust of your restlessness.'
"I was instantly
satisfied by this unflattering explanation. I knelt at his feet; the supreme
guru patted me kindly on the shoulder.
"'Child, you
must meditate more,' he said. 'Your gaze is not yet faultless-you could
not see me hiding behind the sunlight.' With these words in the voice
of a celestial flute, Babaji disappeared into the hidden radiance.
"That
was one of my last visits to Benares to see my guru," Sri Yukteswar
concluded. "Even as Babaji had foretold at the Kumbha Mela,
the householder-incarnation of Lahiri Mahasaya was drawing to a close.
During the summer of 1895 his stalwart body developed a small boil on
the back. He protested against lancing; he was working out in his own
flesh the evil karma of some of his disciples. Finally a few chelas became
very insistent; the master replied cryptically:
"'The body has
to find a cause to go; I will be agreeable to whatever you want to do.'
"A
short time later the incomparable guru gave up his body in Benares. No
longer need I seek him out in his little parlor; I find every day of my
life blessed by his omnipresent guidance."
Years later,
from the lips of Swami Keshabananda, 6
an advanced disciple,
I heard many wonderful details about the passing of Lahiri Mahasaya.
"A few days before
my guru relinquished his body," Keshabananda told me, "he materialized
himself before me as I sat in my hermitage at Hardwar.
"'Come at once
to Benares.' With these words Lahiri Mahasaya vanished.
"I
entrained immediately for Benares. At my guru's home I found many disciples
assembled. For hours that day7
the master expounded
the Gita; then he addressed us simply.
"'I am going
home.'
"'Be
comforted; I shall rise again.' After this utterance Lahiri Mahasaya thrice
turned his body around in a circle, faced the north in his lotus posture,
and gloriously entered the final maha-samadhi.8
"Lahiri Mahasaya's
beautiful body, so dear to the devotees, was cremated with solemn householder
rites at Manikarnika Ghat by the holy Ganges," Keshabananda continued.
"The following day, at ten o'clock in the morning, while I was still
in Benares, my room was suffused with a great light. Lo! before me stood
the flesh and blood form of Lahiri Mahasaya! It looked exactly like his
old body, except that it appeared younger and more radiant. My divine
guru spoke to me.
"'Keshabananda,'
he said, 'it is I. From the disintegrated atoms of my cremated body, I
have resurrected a remodeled form. My householder work in the world is
done; but I do not leave the earth entirely. Henceforth I shall spend
some time with Babaji in the Himalayas, and with Babaji in the cosmos.'
"With a few words of blessing to
me, the transcendent master vanished. Wondrous inspiration filled my heart;
I was uplifted in Spirit even as were the disciples of Christ and Kabir9
when they had gazed on their living gurus after physical death.
"When I returned
to my isolated Hardwar hermitage," Keshabananda went on, "I
carried with me the sacred ashes of my guru. I know he has escaped the
spatio-temporal cage; the bird of omnipresence is freed. Yet it comforted
my heart to enshrine his sacred remains."
Another
disciple who was blessed by the sight of his resurrected guru was the
saintly Panchanon Bhattacharya, founder of the Calcutta Arya Mission Institution.10
I visited Panchanon
at his Calcutta home, and listened with delight to the story of his many
years with the master. In conclusion, he told me of the most marvelous
event in his life.
"Here in Calcutta,"
Panchanon said, "at ten o'clock of the morning which followed his
cremation, Lahiri Mahasaya appeared before me in living glory."
Swami Pranabananda,
the "saint with two bodies," also confided to me the details
of his own supernal experience.
"A few days before
Lahiri Mahasaya left his body," Pranabananda told me at the time
he visited my Ranchi school, "I received a letter from him, requesting
me to come at once to Benares. I was delayed, however, and could not leave
immediately. As I was in the midst of my travel preparations, about ten
o'clock in the morning, I was suddenly overwhelmed with joy to see the
shining figure of my guru.
"'Why hurry to
Benares?' Lahiri Mahasaya said, smiling. 'You shall find me there no longer.'
"As the import
of his words dawned on me, I sobbed broken-heartedly, believing that I
was seeing him only in a vision.
"The master approached
me comfortingly. 'Here, touch my flesh,' he said. 'I am living, as always.
Do not lament; am I not with you forever?'"
From the lips of these
three great disciples, a story of wondrous truth has emerged: At the morning
hour of ten, on the day after the body of Lahiri Mahasaya had been consigned
to the flames, the resurrected master, in a real but transfigured body,
appeared before three disciples, each one in a different city.
"So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?"11
1
Sri Yukteswar was later formally initiated into the Swami Order by the
Mahant (monastery head) of Buddh Gaya. 2
"Great King"-a title of respect. 3
A guru usually refers to his own disciple simply by his name, omitting
any title. Thus, Babaji said "Lahiri," not "Lahiri Mahasaya." 4 Literally, "eternal religion," the name given to the body of Vedic teachings. Sanatan Dharma has come to be called Hinduism since the time of the Greeks who designated the people on the banks of the river Indus as Indoos, or Hindus. The word Hindu, properly speaking, refers only to followers of Sanatan Dharma or Hinduism. The term Indian applies equally to Hindus and Mohammedans and other inhabitants of the soil of India (and also through the confusing geographical error of Columbus, to the American Mongoloid aboriginals). The ancient
name for India is Aryavarta, literally, "abode of the Aryans."
The Sanskrit root of arya is "worthy, holy, noble." The later
ethnological misuse of Aryan to signify not spiritual, but physical, characteristics,
led the great Orientalist, Max Muller, to say quaintly: "To me an
ethnologist who speaks of an Aryan race, Aryan blood, Aryan eyes and hair,
is as great a sinner as a linguist who speaks of a dolichocephalic dictionary
or a brachycephalic grammar." 5
Param-Guru is literally "guru supreme" or "guru beyond,"
signifying a line or succession of teachers. Babaji, the guru of Lahiri
Mahasaya, was the param-guru of Sri Yukteswar. 6
My visit to Keshabananda's ashram is described on pp. 405-408. 7
September 26, 1895 is the date on which Lahiri Mahasaya left his body.
In a few more days he would have reached his sixty-eighth birthday. 8
Facing the north, and thrice revolving the body, are parts of a Vedic
rite used by masters who know beforehand when the final hour is about
to strike for the physical body. The last meditation, during which the
master merges himself in the Cosmic AUM, is called the maha, or great,
samadhi. 9 Kabir was a great sixteenth-century saint whose large following included both Hindus and Mohammedans. At the time of his death, the disciples quarreled over the manner of conducting the funeral ceremonies. The exasperated master rose from his final sleep, and gave his instructions. "Half of my remains shall be buried by the Moslem rites;" he said, "let the other half be cremated with a Hindu sacrament." He then vanished. When the disciples opened the coffin which had contained his body, nothing was found but a dazzling array of gold-colored champak flowers. Half of these were obediently buried by the Moslems, who revere his shrine to this day. In his
youth Kabir was approached by two disciples who wanted minute intellectual
guidance along the mystic path. The master responded simply: 10
Panchanon established, in a seventeen-acre garden at Deogarh in Bihar,
a temple containing a stone statue of Lahiri Mahasaya. Another statue
of the great master has been set by disciples in the little parlor of
his Benares home. 11
I Corinthians 15:54-55.
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Autobiography
of a Yogi
