← In the Vision of GodHis autobiography, book two

CHAPTER XV

Wadhwan – Surat – Jhansi

(i) Ramcharandas Again

Ramdas arrived at Wadhwan city. For the first night he was put up in a vacant hospital building. Maganlal had adhered closely to him and at the time, for him there was none in the world but Ramdas. He followed Ramdas like a shadow, doing every kind of service. On the second day Ramdas was shifted to Chunibhai’s house. Here the people of the city started coming to see him. Dr. Shukla, an enthusiastic and earnest seeker after truth, paid him frequent visits. The Dewan of the state, a capable and pious man, also treated Ramdas with great affection. Also some friends from Limbdi came to see him again here. He met a sadhaka, Jivaraj, who lived in a small tent outside the city. Suddenly Ramcharandas put in an appearance and proposed again to stick on to him.

Mulshanker, an old brahman from Dhrangadhra, came to take him to his place. Ramdas started. It was decided to go as far as Wadhwan junction by taxi. It was morning. They arrived at the motor-stand. To bid him farewell, quite a crowd followed him. While taxis were available at all times, that day, in spite of their waiting for nearly an hour, no taxi could be had. The friends showed signs of dejection and disappointment. Ramdas all the while was quite cheerful. Eventually there was a return march to the city. Ramdas was seen going back smiling and dancing in the streets. Turning to the friends he said:

“Submission to the Lord’s will means no worry and dejection. It is clear, He wills that Ramdas should leave the place by train.” There was a noon train. He and the party arrived at the station. Now the question arose if Maganlal should accompany Ramdas any further. He had been away with Ramdas from Junagad for about three weeks. Moreover, Ramcharandas who had now joined him could attend to him. So he asked Maganlal to return to his family, but he shook his head to signify that the advice was no good and he was bent upon escorting him. This was a problem for Ram to solve, but the Lord knows how to carry out His will.

Ramdas declared: “Listen, Ram, if you insist upon following him he will have to take up a water-fast, as long as you are with him. This is Ram’s will. What do you say?”

“I shall also do the same,” was his calm reply.

“Maganlal,” a friend then urged, “you are a fine fellow; you would go with him only to inflict on him a fast; give up the mad idea; better stop away.”

He was obdurate for some time but at last yielded. In due time, Ramdas and Ramcharandas arrived at Dhrangadhra with their escort. They were welcomed by a rich merchant who lodged them in the upper storey of a warehouse, facing the main road. Ramdas still continued on milk diet. Here again many people from the city visited him – sadhus and householders, men, women and children. He talked to them on his pet subject – devotion to God.

The next morning Maganlal was there in the room, falling at the feet of Ramdas like a felled tree. He seemed to have dropped from the clouds, so unexpected was his appearance. His deep affection for Ramdas had drawn him to the latter again.

“Swamiji, forgive me,” he appealed sitting up, “I simply could not resist coming. I am not pressing to go with you any further. When you leave for Surat, I shall turn back to Junagad.”

Mulshanker was smitten with love for Ramdas. He was a sweet-natured and meek, old soul. He would not be happy if he did not hug Ramdas to his bosom at least half a dozen times a day. He was saying that he had also the blessed opportunity of once embracing Mahatma Gandhi.

Ramdas’ stay in Dhrangadhra was short. By an evening train he left for Surat with Ramcharandas. It was here at the station of Dhrangadhra that Ramdas parted with the tweed gown presented by Raja Ram. He forced it on Mulshanker, in fact he threw the robe on his shoulders when the train had just begun to move from the station. Maganlal, parting company with Ramdas, returned to his native place.

(ii) Ramcharandas Turns Dandy

Ramdas reached Rander, a small place in the suburbs of Surat, where the old friend Kashirambhai resided. He and his wife – a noble pair hailed Ramdas with unfeigned delight. They lived a retired life, utilizing most of their time in devotion, puja and the reading of scriptures. Sorrow, the great awakener, had completely turned their minds from the unrealities of life towards God, the only Truth. Grown up sons and daughters had passed away before their very eyes, leaving the parents in their old age to the exclusive devotion of God. They overwhelmed Ramdas with their kind ministrations.

One afternoon, Kashirambhai had a special reading of a religious book treating of the seven steps or planes in the spiritual growth of man. The reading over, he faced Ramdas and said:

“Shall I tell you to what plane you have reached?” Ramdas did not reply.

“Applying the tests here given,” he continued tapping on the book, by his side: “I can declare that you have passed the fifth plane and are approaching the end of the sixth.”

Kashirambhai had a humorous disposition. He told a story of two sadhus which threw his hearers into fits of laughter:-

Once, two sadhus came to a town from different directions. One settled down beneath a peepal tree and the other under the shade of a banyan. Hearing of their arrival, a bania householder first went to the sadhu of the peepal tree and prostrated before him.

“Maharaj,” said the devotee, “it appears another mahatma has come to our town. Do you know him?”

“Yes,” returned the sadhu contemptuously, “I know him; he is a buffalo.”

Soon after, the devotee arming himself with a bunch of hay visited the sadhu of the banyan tree and placing the hay before him, prostrated.

“Well” cried out the sadhu, “what do you mean by this? Why this hay?”

“It is an offering, maharaj; deign to feed upon it and bless your devotee,” appealed the bania with folded palms.

“What! are you mad? – eat hay!” flared up the sadhu.

“Maharaj, a sadhu below the peepal tree, at the other corner of the town, was good enough to inform me that you were a buffalo. So I thought I could bring you a fitting present,” coolly said the devotee.

“How could you believe him? Have you no sense?” asked the sadhu reprovingly.

“Maharaj, how could a poor and ignorant man like your slave dare to understand sadhus? A mahatma alone can know a mahatma,” returned the devotee.

“Go then and tell him he is an ass,” said the sadhu.

The bania devotee left the place, and directly going to the bazaar, purchased a seer of cotton seeds and making a bundle of it, proceeded to the first sadhu of the peepal tree. Untying the bundle he poured out the contents in front of the sadhu and prostrated before him.

“How now,” asked the sadhu with a surprised look, “What is this for? – it is cotton seed!”

“Right, maharaj – a stuff so dear to you. Do accept the humble present and making a full meal of it, shower your grace upon your slave,” prayed the bania.

“Is anything wrong with you? What do you mean, eat cotton seed?” uttered the sadhu in consternation.

“Why not? Maharaj, a sadhu over there, beneath the banyan tree, told me that you were an ass. An ass has a great partiality for cotton seed.”

“You fool,” he roared in rage, “don’t you see that I am not an ass?”

“How should I know, Maharaj – a poor man like me caught in the meshes of maya! It is said: a mahatma alone can recognize a mahatma,” replied the devotee with a sly twitch at the corner of his thin lips.

The sadhu was by this time thoroughly roused and, rising to his feet, said in an imperious voice:

“Bhaktaraj, take me to the place where the other mahatma is. I should like to teach him how to speak of his betters.”

They went. It appears there was a terrible fight between the two mahatmas, the bania devotee witnessing the fun from a distance. The affair ended in the sadhus going without food for the whole day!

Rander is situated on the banks of the river Tapti. Ramdas was having his daily bath in the river accompanied by Ramcharandas. In the matter of bath, Ramcharandas exercised absolute control over him. Sometimes he would go to the length of making Ramdas yield to his will by threats, as a mother would do with a contumacious child.

“Swamiji,” he would say in a stern voice, “you should not take bath there, come this side.”

He would then take Ramdas by the arm and almost drag him into knee-deep water and rub and scrub him as a syce would do a horse! There was no doubt that Ramcharandas was doing this out of the great love he bore for Ramdas. In a few days Ramdas found that he had lost all independence of action at the riverside. One day, Ramdas in a humble tone and with joined palms, said to him:

“Ram, your treatment of Ramdas reminds him of the attitude of Sri Ramakrishna Paramhamsa’s nephew towards him. It is said that he domineered over the childlike saint in a similar way. Eventually, Sri Ramakrishna had to send him away. So Ramdas would also request you to leave him alone and take yourself off.”

Ramcharandas grinned and remained silent. He frequented the market place and made friends with many merchants. One day he came to Ramdas and said:

“Swamiji, the merchant friends wish to present me with cloth; I could have something for you also. What shall we have?”

“Mendicants as we are, the best suited cloth for us is khadi which is coarse and durable and serves all purposes. As for Ramdas, he has already one and does not need any more,” Ramdas answered.

His face showed that he did not agree. He went to the market and returned in the evening. What did Ramdas behold? A sadhu dressed in tiptop style! He wore a long robe of fine muslin with shining buttons. He flourished in his hand a fashionable and costly umbrella, and white rubber-soled canvas shoes encased his feet. At the sight of this smart figure Ramdas bowed and said:

“Ram, you know Ramdas is a humble fakir. You are now transformed into a saheb. How can a fakir have anything in common with a saheb?”

Ramcharandas was not a man of words. He smiled away Ramdas’ remarks. He would always have his own way.

From the friends of Jhansi, Ramdas received an invitation and railway fare for one passenger. It was evident that he should alone proceed to Jhansi. He broached the subject to Ramcharandas who became rebellious.

“You are always for throwing me up,” he spoke passionately.

“It is God’s will, Ram, and you have to submit to it,” said Ramdas. “Moreover, it behoves you that you should travel alone, gathering experience in your own way. Ramdas would advise you to go to the banks of the Narmada and spend some time in that inspiring atmosphere.”

(iii) Krishna, Christ and Buddha

On the day fixed, Ramdas started from Surat towards the north. Ramcharandas travelled with him for a few stations and then parted company. At Ujjain Ramdas had to break journey. He stopped in a dharmashala for the night and the next day set out again. In the train a young Mussalman met him. Sitting by the side of Ramdas he recounted his sorrows. Ramdas spoke to him about surrender to God as the panacea for all ills of life. He wished to know a way to control the restless mind. Ramdas asked him to repeat God’s Name.

Arriving at Bhopal, where the train halted for thirty minutes, the Muslim friend provided him with milk and fruits. As Bhopal was his destination, he took leave of Ramdas with God’s Name on his lips.

It was midnight when Ramdas reached Jhansi station. Passing the night in the passenger shed, early next morning he made his way to the city which lay two miles from the station. He went direct to Mahadev Prasad’s house. At the sight of Ramdas, Mahadev Prasad was convulsed with joy. He fell at Ramdas’ feet, kissed them and rising embraced him again and again, tears streaming down his eyes through uncontrollable emotion.

It was over two years before that Ramdas had remained under his hospitable roof for months. With what affection and kindness did he then look after him! His longing to see Ramdas again must have been indeed intense, as it was obvious from the manner in which he received him.

In the evening Ramdas met Ramkinkar – that devoted friend who with such studious care had tended him on his journey to Badrinarayan. He was beside himself with delight on seeing Ramdas. His stay was decided to be in the Ram Mandir in which he had resided on the last occasion. Hence Ramkinkar led him to the temple. The old pandaji was there. He came out to welcome Ramdas. His huge frame trembled with emotion and he repeatedly hugged Ramdas to his bosom.

Next day, news reaching the other friends, they came in large numbers. Crowds collected in the temple in the evenings, and Ramdas delivered in English – his knowledge of Hindi being still poor – his message of love and joy. Followers of different prevailing sects and creeds held talks with him, either to clear their doubts or to press their views on him. He appreciated their varied standpoints and reconciled himself to them, because, after all, it was the Lord who has planned this variegated world-play. It was given to him to see and love Him in all.

Ramdas paid a visit to Sipri Bazaar where also he met many friends and returned to the city. Now he expressed a wish to live outside the city. A place was pitched upon named Atkhamba. A small building consisting of a single room and a verandah stood on the far corner of the lake Lakshmi-talao. At the edge of the lake there was an eight-pillared minaret, made of red stone, with a beautifully shaped cupola, after the style of Moghul architecture. On account of the eight pillars it came to be called Atkhamba. To sit on the pedestal of this structure, facing the lake, is to view a charming sight – the still waters of the lake reflecting as if in a mirror the surrounding scenery.

A peepal tree spread its extended branches over the building. A stone image of Hanuman, besmeared with red paint, stood below the tree enclosed in an open, rocky chamber. Ramdas dwelt in Atkhamba for more than a month. Crowds also gathered here in the evenings. Ramkinkar kept him company during nights. Mahadev Prasad did not fail a single evening. Sometimes, Ramdas would go out in the mornings for long walks over hills. On one of the hills he came upon a temple in ruins with its image of a goddess, made of white marble, broken to pieces. From the top of this hill one can have an extensive survey of the country all around. He would spend hours here in the refreshing breeze, in calm meditation.

He also paid visits to an old saint in Shyam Chopla. His childlike nature attracted Ramdas to him. He was fond of narrating the account of his wanderings when he was young. He had passed through thrilling experiences. His temple was situated in a jungle far away from the city. Two well-preserved tanks drew many devotees from the city for their daily baths.

Ramdas had the privilege of coming in contact with another saint Nirbhayanandji and his spouse Purnanandji. Both the husband and wife had adopted sannyas and were clad in orange robes – a typical pair who had devoted their life to the service of the Lord. They belonged to the well-known Pilikoti ashram of sannyasis in Chitrakut. At the time of Ramdas’ stay in Jhansi, they lived in a small garden-house removed from the city. Both of them were exceedingly kind to him. Mother Purnanandji was really a pure and lovely soul.

In this connection it must here be placed on record that for Ramdas there is none impure or sinful, although he might mention the particular purity and greatness of the persons he came across. His task is merely to chronicle his experiences with regard to events that befell him and to people who came under his observation. He presents the history from the standpoint of a dispassionate witness of God’s lila. For, the world is His manifestation in which He expresses Himself in a multitude of forms, assuming various characters. Ramdas looks on all with the same unclouded vision and his love for all is alike, be they saints or sinners. He does not see any difference. It is the Lord who plays all the parts in the world-drama.

An Englishman named Abbot desiring to see Ramdas motored him to his bungalow. Abbot and his aged sister received Ramdas in the verandah. The English mother talked in high admiration of Jesus Christ and his teachings. Ramdas perfectly agreed with her in her laudation of the divine Teacher. But her enthusiasm carried her so far as to speak in contemptuous terms of Sri Krishna, Buddha and others.

“Mother, Ramdas cannot be one with you there,” he told her. “He holds Sri Krishna and Buddha in the same high estimation as, if not higher than, Jesus. You are speaking of them as you do, because you have not understood them. Similarly, there are Hindus who speak disparagingly of Christ without knowing him.”

The mother combated his view and started attacking it by arguments. But Ramdas remained silent. Abbot did not like the way his sister spoke and tried to pacify her. At last she stopped and Ramdas took leave of them.

Ramkinkar and other friends of Jhansi proposed that Ramdas should be made conversant with Hindi, because many people who came to see him did not understand the English tongue. They felt that they were losing the benefit of his talks. So, one of the friends undertook to coach him up in Hindi. Ramdas was provided with the first Hindi primer and a slate and pencil. He felt that he had just been enrolled in the infant class. He received an hour’s instruction from the kind teacher every day. His progress was rapid. In ten days he finished the first primer and in five days more, he passed through the second primer. Then he commenced reading books in easy Hindi, such as Bala Ramayan, life of Samarth Ramdas and Gita Sangraha. He also started inditing letters in Hindi.

Ram-navami, the celebration of the birthday of Sri Ramchandra, was fast approaching and Ramdas bethought him of witnessing the festival in Chitrakut, where they said it was performed on a grand scale. So one day he announced his intention to the Jhansi friends that he was to start by an evening train. Ramkinkar and other friends came to the station to bid him farewell. Ramdas was to travel alone.