← In the Vision of GodHis autobiography, book two

CHAPTER V

Goa Frontier – Supa

(i) Orange Robe Counts for a Badge of Thieves

Onward they went until they reached Karwar where they stopped at a dharmashala. Next morning they resumed their journey. About four o’clock in the evening they sighted a river which they had to cross. Here they witnessed a wondrous spectacle. Thousands of men, women and children had assembled on both the banks of the river and still larger numbers were streaming to the spot from opposite directions. On enquiry they learnt that in mid-river were half a dozen crafts floating, and a famous sadhu by name, Satchidanand, was in one of them, and the large crowds of people had come for his darshan.

Each pilgrim carried with him or her a cocoanut, perfumed pastilles or agarbatties and some camphor, as offerings to the sadhu. The devotion of these simple country-folk was indeed marvellous. Truly, faith strikes its deep roots more easily in the unsophisticated minds of villagers than in those of the so-called civilised people of the cities.

The river was duly crossed, and Ramdas and Ramcharandas reached in the evening a village where they stopped for the night in the temple of a goddess. Here they had come near the Goa province – a Portuguese territory, the frontier lying a few miles off. Next day by noon they arrived at the frontier. When they were about to pass the gate, their progress was rudely arrested by a huge dog which stood on the path, barking ominously at them. From a hut, a few yards to the right a man called out:

“You cannot pass unless you give an account of yourselves here – come here, both of you.”

Accordingly, they went up to the hut. The man, a Roman Catholic, was the gate-keeper. He explained, on seeing their clothing dyed in gerrua, that the goa Government had issued a circular that no sadhus should be permitted to enter their territory.

“Why are they so hard with sadhus?” queried Ramcharandas.

“Sadhus! Fine fellows they are!” said the gate-keeper with a spice of sarcasm. “Recently a rich man’s house was robbed by a wandering sadhu in Goa and the police are still after him. Hence the order for their exclusion. So you had better retrace your steps as you came.”

“Brother, do you think,” Ramcharandas asked, “that we belong to that type of sadhus?” and added: “We assure you we mean no ill to anybody.”

“Mine is not to judge who is a true and who is a false sadhu. I am here only to obey orders. You cannot pass,” he replied firmly.

Ramcharandas utilized to the full all his powers of eloquence and persuasion but in vain. For, he was looking forward most eagerly to a visit to the Kuladevi temple of Goa – the original temple which commanded allegiance from all Saraswats of Southern and Western India. After repeated appeals, the gate-keeper said:

“I can allow you to go in on one condition and it is that you should change your clothes, i.e. give up the coloured ones for plain white, and pass off as ordinary travellers and not as sadhus.”

Ramdas was all along watching the scene. Now Ramcharandas turned to him with a questioning look.

“Ram,” said Ramdas, “it appears to be God’s will that we should not step into the Goa territory. As regards changing the cloth, Ramdas for one, is not for it. He would prefer to go back rather than do anything against the will of God dwelling in his heart. Surely, it is His pleasure that we should turn back.”

They left the place and before dark regained the village from which they had started, and spent the night in a small room of a rest-house. Ramcharandas was sorely disappointed. Next morning they went to the bazaar, where a kind shop-keeper, a Catholic, suggested that they might travel to the North, via Kadra, to which place they could go by a ferry-boat. The shop-keeper fed them with some biscuits and bread. Then going to the river-side they leapt into a large boat bound for Kadra. A fee of one-anna each had to be paid which charge Ramcharandas met from the few annas he owned.

The boat moved on slowly with many a halt on the way because it was carrying also some cargo. However, at dusk they reached Kadra. As night advanced severe cold set in. Having found no room in the local rest-house, they sought shelter on the open verandah of the village headman’s office, which stood directly facing the river. A cold breeze had by now begun to blow from the river. Here again the night was spent in a manner similar to the one in the rock chamber on the Ramatirtha hill.

Early at daybreak they started. Now they had to traverse a path along the gradual ascent of a hill through a dense jungle. Some travellers, who carried long sticks with a spear at one end coming from the opposite direction, warned them against wild bears. When the Lord’s Name was on their lips where was fear? As usual Ramdas walked at a brisk pace with Ramcharandas close behind him.

At noon they reached a small village where a halt was made. After bath they ate a few boiled potatoes and, resting for an hour, started again. The jungle extended still further. They now travelled on level ground and legged on. At sunset they reached the village – Coomarwadi. That day from daybreak to sunset they had covered 36 miles – the distance from Kadra to Coomarwadi.

(ii) The Mother Cow

At Coomarwadi they found shelter in a spacious rest-house. Quite a crowd of villagers collected in the house to see the sadhus whose visit to that place was a source of great delight to them. They were extremely kind and hospitable – especially a school master who arranged for their milk etc., and also a fire in their room to keep off cold. Stout logs of dry wood were kept burning all through the night. The cold was intense. The same friend procured for them besides milk, boiled roots kandamool. The edible roots were very delicious. He said that the long tract of forest land from Kadra to Londa railway station, measuring some 70 miles, went by the name Dandakaranya. Sri Ramchandra on his way to Lanka had passed through this land. The place was tapobhumi. The sadhu Satchidanand, whom they passed by beyond Karwar, had attained illumination in the forests close to their village.

A small ashram was being built at the back of the village over the samadhi of a saint from the funds collected by this sadhu. The schoolmaster friend promised to escort them to the holy place the ensuing day.

In the morning, as decided on the previous night, the kind schoolmaster took them to the ashram which lay only a short distance from the village. The ashram was in course of construction. Nearby, there ran a small stream of water in which they had their bath. After finishing their dinner at the schoolmaster’s, they returned to the dharmashala. This friend also presented Ramcharandas with some money which he accepted. Hundreds of visitors from the village poured on them their pure and simple love.

Next day they proposed to leave the place. Fifteen miles from Coomarwadi lay a village named Supa. Their next halt was fixed to be at Supa. The schoolmaster sent a friend in advance to inform the residents of Supa of their visit. At about five o’ clock in the evening they reached Supa. They met hundreds of people on the outskirts of the village waiting to welcome the sadhus. They were duly escorted in procession to a Maruti temple on the bank of the Supa river. In the front room of this temple they were lodged. Arrangements were also made here to burn fuel to keep the room warm. On account of the continuous rush of visitors, Ramdas had to keep awake and sit up day and night. So he confined himself to milk diet only.

The following day was Shivaratri. There was a murti of Shiva in the middle of the river on a raised platform. Access to it was possible only by boat. The Patel or village headman attended to the needs of the sadhus. He took them for the darshan of the murti on the river, and also to the noted temple of Sri Ramchandra. When they returned to their seat in the temple of Maruti, they beheld hundreds of people awaiting their arrival with offerings.

Thereafter commenced a regular flow of visitors. Both for the darshan of the sadhus and celebration of Shivaratri, thousands of people from the neighbouring hamlets had poured into Supa. The visitors continued to come throughout the night. When Ramdas expressed his wish to depart on the following day, the kindhearted Patel pressed him to stay a day longer, and he yielded. On the last day of their stay, a limping elderly lady followed by her husband came to the temple with a cup of fresh milk. The time was morning. The couple sat beside Ramdas and made him drink the milk. The husband, an overseer’s clerk, then told the story of the milk.

He said: “Maharaj, one day, about a year ago, we found at our door a cow which was reduced almost to a skeleton. She was so weak and emaciated from starvation that she was hardly able to walk. She dragged herself along with great effort. Seeing her pitiable condition my wife suggested that we might give her shelter and tend her, to which I agreed. The cow appeared to have been disowned and left at large. My wife took her inside the house and got her a place in our bedroom. She fed and nursed her with great care and love. The cow grew stronger day by day. We treated her as one of us. She could freely go about in the house. She was named Krishnabai. Her resting place in our room was kept scrupulously clean.”

“Now we were occupying a rented house. Maharaj, we are poor but we know those who are poor and honest are very near to God. So we are happy. It happened that the owner of the house in which we lived came to know that we had given lodging to a cow inside the house. He protested against this and gave us notice that unless the cow was kept in a separate hut we should vacate his house. My wife felt this very much but would not part company with the cow. She could not even bear the idea of a separate shed for her. She appealed to me to look for another house. Kind Providence, without much effort, provided us with another house – the owner of which did not object to our having the cow inside the house.”

“From about six months we have been living in the new house. Meanwhile, the cow, as though to reward us for our services, has presented us with a she-calf – to which she gave birth only yesterday. The milk we have brought for you is Krishnabai’s first yield. We consider we have offered it to God Himself.”

What wealth of love and devotion!

(iii) Love’s Triumph

As the day advanced the rush of visitors increased. Presents flowed in, in abundance. The offering of cocoanuts swelled into a big pile. There was quite a shower of grapes, dates and sugarcandy which Ramdas distributed freely amongst the innumerable village children. Ramcharandas heartily joined in this task. Now people thickly thronged the room, the doorway and outside.

At about ten o’ clock in the forenoon two Muhammadan policemen came to the temple. They wedged their way through the crowd and, roughly brushing aside the people at the entrance, got into the room occupied by Ramdas and Ramcharandas. Their grisly beard and rolling eyes signified their stern mission. Stamping their boots on the ground they glared at the sadhus. One of them, taking out a note-book and pencil from his pockets spoke in a loud and commanding voice:

“Are these the sadhus? Well, give me your address. Quick, we are in a hurry.” Addressing Ramcharandas, “Here, come along – which is your native place?”

Ramcharandas was perplexed and turned to Ramdas for a hint.

“Ram, don’t hesitate,” said Ramdas. “Give your name and tell him that you are a native of Mangalore.”

His name and address were duly noted down by the policeman. Now he turned his gaze at Ramdas.

“Your name!” he shouted.

“Ramdas,” Ramdas replied.

“Native place?” cried he.

“The whole universe,” rejoined Ramdas.

At this reply he stiffened and, working up his eyes into a ferocious stare, blurted out:

“Beware, none of your jokes with me. Don’t you see who I am? Which is your native place?” he repeated.

“The whole universe,” Ramdas replied again.

Ramdas was cool and all smiles. The reiteration thoroughly roused the policeman. Stamping his right foot down with great force he growled:

“None of your fooling with me! If you don’t reply sensibly I will have you arrested and put into custody. Do you understand?”

Ramdas answered: “If you are so kind as to take this servant he would thank you indeed. It matters little where he thinks of God – a prison is as good a place as any other,” and with a cheerful smile he added, “O God, Thy lila is wonderful. It is Thou alone who hast come in this form. The mother sometimes, when she wants to subdue the obstinate will of her child, puts on a frightening mask and pretends to be a hobgoblin. So long as the child is unaware of the fact that it is the mother who is behind the mask, it yields to fear, but when it knows that it is the mother who personates the frightful thing, instead of being moved by the sight, it pulls down the mask and reveals to itself her real identity. So it is with Thee. Thou art He – the Beloved of Ramdas. Thou mayest assume any disguise but he can see Thee through it. He is not afraid of Thee. He replies in the words which Thou Thyself hast taught him.”

The policeman listened to him patiently. Ramdas was calm and cheerful as ever. A sudden change came upon the policeman. The ferocious look vanished from his eyes giving place to one of resignation. His hot and flushed face resumed its calmness and colour.

“Maharaj,” he addressed Ramdas with eyes lowered and hands folded, “a thousand pardons for my folly. Without knowing you I harassed and abused you in strong language. The thing that disarmed me was your face which remained ever smiling, during all the time I was rating and insulting you. I behaved like a brute. Pardon, pardon I seek.”

Then silently pocketing his note-book he proposed to depart with his companion. Ramdas then offered them each a piece of coconut and some dates as prasad which they received in all humility and left the place. Love triumphed over hate and harshness!

He subsequently learnt the cause of the policeman’s rough behaviour. It appeared that two Hindu policemen had been sent before by the Police Station Officer for obtaining the addresses of these sadhus, but at the crowded entrance of the temple some visitors had persuaded them not to annoy the sadhus, assuring them that they were not ordinary sadhus, and so to demand their addresses would be an insult to them. So being Hindus these policemen desisted and returned without the information which they had been asked to procure. At this the Station Officer’s ire was roused, and he deputed two Muslim policemen to carry out his orders. Hence their overbearing attitude.

The kind Patel presented Ramdas with a long cloak of thick cotton cloth, as a protection against cold.