← In the Vision of GodHis autobiography, book two

CHAPTER XVII

Chitrakut (Contd.)

(i) The Naked Mouni

When bathing in the river, a tall and dark sadhu informed Ramdas of a place called Anasuyaji, seven miles from Chitrakut. He had thought of visiting the shrine that day and would be glad to have Ramdas as his companion. Ramdas fell in with his proposal. God always arranges things for him. He took Ramdas to the sadhu-ashram of Phatakshila where he had dinner in the company of about two dozen sadhus.

An incident here is worthy of note. For want of room inside the small ashram, Ramdas had to sit for his meal in the outer verandah. The forests of Chitrakut were teeming with monkeys. The moment a plate containing roties, rice and dal was placed before Ramdas, a stout and powerful monkey coming from behind, with one sudden grab, carried off one roti and some rice. At this the sadhu, serving food, looking at Ramdas, angrily said:

“Why did you allow the monkey to snatch away the roti? – dullard!”

“Never mind, Maharaj, he has taken Hanuman’s share. Is he not Hanuman?” said Ramdas with a smile.

In response, the sadhu intently looked at Ramdas and remained silent.

The meal over, along with the dark sadhu and also with two others who made up the party, Ramdas set out for Anasuyaji. They had to pass through an extensive forest of giant trees. When they entered the depths of the forest they could discern footmarks of wild beasts on their track. Presently, they neared a small thatched hut of a sadhu who was hewing wood for his night fire. For a few minutes, the party rested beside the ashram and drank the cool water provided by the sadhu. He was an old man with a grey beard, bright, hale and cheerful. He spoke of wild beasts as though they were domestic animals.

The party proceeding onwards reached Anasuyaji before sunset. Anasuyaji was an awe-inspiring place. It was a narrow strip of the jungle by the side of the river, having in the background tall, rugged, weird looking crags. Facing the river stood a terraced building in which the resident sadhus lived, and at some distance, almost hidden in the dense grove of trees, was the temple of Anasuyaji – the celebrated pativrata, wife of the great sage Atrimuni. Here again the image was of black marble, dressed gaudily in feminine robes, after the North Indian fashion.

After slaking their thirst at the river – here the water of the brook was of transparent purity – the party rested beneath a huge tree in front of the terraced house. Night was approaching and along with it also cold. The sadhus went in search of firewood to light a fire for the night.

While Ramdas was sitting alone under the tree he heard the clapping of hands from the direction of the terrace. A sadhu beckoned to him. Ascending a flight of steps Ramdas reached the terrace and approached the sadhu who had called him. The sadhu was stark naked. He made signs to Ramdas to sit down on a rough kambal which he spread on the floor. Ramdas took the seat and he also sat down. The sadhu was a young man but his body was lean and withered by severe austerities. His unkempt hair and beard showed his utter indifference to physical appearance. His looks were distant and dreamy and there was a subtle glow on his brown face. As he expressed himself in signs, it was clear that he was also observing the vow of silence. He had in his hand a short japamala of rudraksha beads which he kept rotating between his fingers.

By signs he made Ramdas understand that he should remain with him for the night. He took Ramdas inside the room which he found in a state of perfect disorder. He prepared a seat for Ramdas beside the fire which burnt in the centre of the room. In silence he spent the night in the sadhu’s company.

Early next day he asked the sadhu’s permission to leave the place. He questioned Ramdas by gestures why he did not carry any water-vessel. Ramdas replied it was Ram’s will. Out of the debris that lay scattered in his room, he ferreted out a neat little gourd, fashioned into a portable water pot. He placed the gourd before Ramdas and signed that he should take it. He demurred, but the sadhu was not to be foiled. His emphatic gesticulations denoted that Ramdas should never go without a water-pot. Ramdas at last submitted and took the gourd and bidding him adieu left the place.

Coming down he joined the dark sadhu who was waiting for him. The other sadhus had left earlier. Ramdas and the dark sadhu proceeded towards Bharat Coop. On the way they came across the huts of cultivators. Here they were entertained by the poor humble villagers with a meal of rice and curds. In the evening they reached Bharat Coop.

Here was a large well with the branches of an ancient and gigantic peepal tree hanging over it. Close by, there were temples of Rama, Sita, Lakshman, Bharat and Hanuman. They settled for the night beneath the tree on the platform around the well. Next morning, after a bath from the well water, they started again. Now the dark sadhu parted from him.

Left alone, Ramdas roamed wildly in the jungles for three days, stopping in the nights either in the ruins or under the trees, and subsisting on mowah flowers, picked up from beneath the trees. Mowah is a white flower, shaped like the rose bud with thick juicy petals and is sweet to the taste.

Ramdas had come to Chitrakut a week before the Ramnavami celebrations. There were yet two days more for the festival. As he wandered he again came on the parikrama or the path round the Kamtanath hill. On this path, at some distance from each other, were temples, ashrams and tanks. While going on a round, it was nearing midday, when two devout mothers living in the out-house of a temple invited Ramdas and fed him with great love.

One evening he climbed the hill called Lakshman Tekri. He spent a night there in a solitary spot.

(ii) God Is for Him Who Thirsts for Truth

Along the parikrama was a Brahmachari ashram where a dozen young boys were imparted tuition in the Vedic lore and trained to observe the discipline and ritual of the ancient days. In front of the ashram was set up a yajna kund where the Brahmacharis assembled every day with their preceptor, and performed yajna in accordance with the Vedic rites, accompanied by the incantation of mantras. Besides the yajna kund, there were also small structures, artistic pieces of Indian architecture facing the ashram. In one of these Ramdas passed a night.

In the course of the rounds of the hill he had come upon a mad looking sadhaka – truly God-intoxicated men are in a sense mad – uttering Ramnam aloud ceaselessly, at one time sitting outside the small temples on the parikrama and at another walking round.

One night Ramdas took his position on the raised pedestal around the yajna kund for his meditation. Here, he was joined by this sadhaka who also settled on it beside him. While Ramdas was reciting Ramnam in an undertone, he was as usual taking the Name aloud. Hour after hour passed. They went on with the japa. It might have been past three o’clock. Sleep overpowered the sadhaka, and he rolled down on his seat and slept.

Half an hour had not passed when he started up with a cry and beheld Ramdas sitting and going on with his japa. He became perfectly wild with rage with himself, and spoke with bitterness and deep contrition:

“Wretched fool that I am! I allowed sleep to deprive me of bhajan. Look, he is still awake. What a control he has on sleep!” referring to Ramdas. “I understand now, it was the food that I ate in the evening that was responsible for this lapse. Oh! I am losing precious time!”

Verily, God is for him who is seized with such a burning thirst for Truth.

Ram-navami celebrations usually continued for nine days. The first day came, and thousands of pilgrims from various parts of India streamed into Chitrakut for parikrama or walking round the Kamtanath hill – on which Sri Ramchandra and Sita performed tapas – which was considered by the devotees to possess high spiritual merit. So, thick crowds of pilgrims tramped round the sacred hill.

In the course of his walks on this path Ramdas had noted the Pilikoti ashram to which were related Swami Nirbhayanand and his wife, the saintly pair he met in Jhansi. He found the ashram decorated with festoons, flags and shamianas, and hundreds of sannyasis who were attracted from several places of India assembled within its precincts. The motto of the ashram was to serve with food any sannyasi who happened to visit it. The head of the ashram was Swami Akhandanand, a famous sannyasi of the United Provinces. His disciple Swami Satchidanand, a Sanskrit scholar, was the manager of the institution. The ashram had also attached to it a small free Sanskrit pathashala for boys.

Swami Nirbhayanand, his wife and a brother of his, Swami Ramanand, who was at the time in the ashram, were also disciples of Swami Akhandanand who had a large following both among the sannyasis and the householders. He and his sannyasi disciples in their itinerant life, in certain seasons, lived for some period in Jhansi. They had heard of Ramdas from Ramkinkar but had no occasion to see him.

Swami Nirbhayanand had asked Ramdas, when starting from Jhansi, not to fail to visit the Pilikoti ashram. Now Ramdas, entering the grounds of the ashram, mingled with the throng of sannyasis. At midday he joined with them in their feast. In the afternoon, taking a walk around the hill, he returned to the ashram in the evening. He occupied for the night a stone bench – a number of such benches had been erected in the yard. The peculiarity with them was that the upper slab was fitted on to the uprights at a slight angle, so as to keep one’s head at a higher level when one reclined on it at full length. In the nights these slabs were cold as ice.

As night advanced Ramdas, wanting to rest, covered himself with a part of the only cloth he had, the other part of which being spread on the bench and he lay down. In those days he had very little sleep. An hour later, a young sannyasi who had come with two blankets drew his attention. “Maharaj, have these kambals; the cold is bitter.” By his urging Ramdas vacated the bench and the sannyasi spread a blanket on the slab and, after he rested on it, covered him with the other. Everybody is kind to him because everyone is He.

Next day, at daybreak, he went to the river for a bath. The gourd had now become his companion. He came back to the ashram by midday. In the evening the young sannyasi who had provided him with blankets the previous night, seeking his society, took him to his kuti which stood on the opposite side of the road. Ramdas spoke to him of his meeting with Swami Nirbhayanand and his wife at Jhansi. Then he inquired of Ramdas’ name. He gave it.

The night passed. The following day, early as usual, he went to the river for bath and reappeared by noon at the ashram. In the front verandah of a small outhouse a number of sannyasis had assembled. As he entered the compound they were to a man gazing deliberately at him and giggling! He was about to walk past them when Swami Satchidanand, the manager of the institution, cried halt.

“Come here,” he accosted, beckoning Ramdas into the verandah. He got in.

“We have been contemplating upon the nature of the punishment to be meted out to you,” the Swami continued.

One of the saints was holding a stout cane. Smiling, Ramdas took the stick from its owner and offering it to the Swami said:

“Here is a stick. Punish Ramdas to your heart’s content,” and bending down, presented his back for the treatment. All laughed.

“Not that,” explained the Swami, “we have hit it all right. You have to stay in this Ashram for one full year. This is the punishment!”

“If Ram does not will it so?” asked Ramdas quietly.

“It is Ram who speaks through us,” he rejoined.

“Ram speaks also in Ramdas. He says Ramdas should not agree to your proposal,” said Ramdas.

“We shall see about it. We are putting you in a separate room and one of us will mount guard on you. You cannot escape us,” he said, shaking his head.

“Ram’s will be done,” Ramdas replied.

“Now, have you any idea of the charge against you?” he questioned.

“You have already pronounced the judgment. What does it matter whether Ramdas knows or not what the charge is?” answered Ramdas.

“However, I am telling you what it is,” he went on: “you have outwitted us for two days. You were with us perfectly incognito. We had heard of you and wished greatly to see you. Hence the punishment for your deception.”

(iii) The Test of Self-surrender

A narrow room was got ready for Ramdas in which he found a wooden cot with a quilt on it, and an earthen pot filled with water. He was handed over to the charge of Swami Ramanand, an old sannyasi, who attended to his needs. The childlike nature of the sannyasis in this ashram was wonderful. They would frequently come to Ramdas in the room, talk to him and also fondle him, as if he were a child! Here Ramdas had quite a feast of love.

One day, Swami Ramanand and Swami Guptanand, the young sannyasi who had supplied Ramdas with blankets on the first night, were seated on the cot beside him. Ramdas spoke upon self-surrender. As an instance, he narrated the episode of Draupadi’s predicament when Dushasana sought to disgrace her in the durbar hall of the Kauravas. So long as she was crying to Sri Krishna for help, and at the same time struggling to protect herself, the Lord did not come to the rescue. At last, realising her folly, she lifted up her hands in absolute surrender and called Krishna, and that moment He saved her.

When Ramdas came to mention about Draupadi’s self surrender in the narration, Swami Guptanand who was listening with great concentration was so overpowered with emotion that he burst into tears. Also Swami Ramanand’s eyes moistened.

In Guptanand’s company Ramdas, one day, ascended the famous Kamtanath hill which stood in front of the Pilikoti ashram. Some Hindus consider it a sacrilege to tread on the hill which is held sacred, because Sri Ramachandra and Sitadevi are said to have resided on it in the ancient days. The hill was about five hundred feet above its base. There are no structures or any relics of them on the hill. It is covered with wild shrubs and trees of which a certain species bore edible fruits called thendu. While descending, Ramdas ran down a dry water-course, sprinkled with smooth and rounded boulders.

Another day, a sannyasi from Kashi took Ramdas out for a walk round the famous hill. On going some distance both sat on a raised stone platform beneath a tree. Here the sannyasi confided to Ramdas his condition.

“Maharaj,” he said, “I have been for nearly thirty years in this line of sannyas, but still my mind is perfectly hopeless. Lust, greed and wrath are as rampant in it as ever. What shall I do?”

“The only way to control the mind and free it from the evils you mention is always to take the Name of God, meditate upon His great attributes and surrender all your actions to Him,” Ramdas replied suggestively.

“I have done all that and I have failed,” he said.

“You ought to practise in solitude,” Ramdas put in.

“Oh!” he cried out, “don’t speak of solitude. I have a terror for solitude. When I am left alone, my mind goes into a whirl of most unholy desires. So I am running after saints. In their society I have peace. But I know, I should not solely depend upon external aids for attaining peace, as such peace cannot be permanent.” He stopped and looked at Ramdas for the solution of his problem.

“What you say is right,” Ramdas now spoke at length: “God, who is absolute existence, consciousness and bliss, is within you – nay, you and He are not different. Unless you realise Him there can be no true liberation and lasting peace. Please note that the first qualification necessary for the seeker of God is fearlessness. Neither the terror of solitude nor the terror of the crowd should daunt you. But solitude is a great help. Know that God, who dwells in you, is almighty. Seek His assistance by constant remembrance, meditation and prayer. Then the mind is bound to come under control. The evil passions must depart from it.

“Forget not the central truth that God is seated in your own heart. Don’t be disheartened by failures at initial stages. Cultivate the spirit of surrender to the workings of His will in you and outside you until you have completely surrendered up your ego-sense, and have known He is in all and He is all, and you and He are one. Be patient. The path of self-discipline that leads to God-realisation is not an easy path. Obstacles and sufferings are on the path; the latter you must bear and the former overcome, – all by His help. His help comes only through concentration. Repetition of God’s Name helps concentration.”

The sannyasi heard Ramdas silently and put no more questions. They retraced their steps to the ashram.

(iv) Ramdas Is a Child of God

A few days later, the same sannyasi came to Ramdas and asked:

“Don’t you know? The great Swami Akhandanandji is here. Have you seen him?”

“To see you is to see him,” Ramdas simply replied.

“No, Maharaj, you ought to see him,” he said with a serious look. “He is only a few yards from the ashram, seated beneath a grove of trees. He always prefers to stay in jungles and does not like to reside beneath a roof. He is a famous mahatma. He is going away tomorrow morning. If you don’t have his darshan today, you will lose a golden opportunity.”

“For Ramdas God is everywhere. He need not go specially anywhere to see Him,” Ramdas answered.

“What!” he exclaimed with surprise. “You don’t want to see him? You shall go to him,” he added emphatically, and taking hold of Ramdas’ arm almost dragged him.

“Come, I am also going with you.” He was a strong man and Ramdas did not resist.

A few minutes’ walk brought them to a large assembly of sannyasis, seated beneath the shade of about half a dozen tall, spreading trees. On a cot against a tree sat a sannyasi with only a loin cloth or kaupin on while all the rest were seated on the ground.

Ramdas went directly to the Swamiji and placed his head at his feet and sat down on the ground near the cot. Now a stillness seemed to have settled on the gathering. All was silent for a few minutes. The Swamiji broke the ice.

He said to a householder devotee sitting beside Ramdas:

“Ask him if he has any doubts to clear.” The Swamiji spoke in Hindi. The devotee was an English educated man. He interpreted the Swamiji’s question to Ramdas in English, Ramdas’ knowledge of Hindi was yet poor. So he, of course, replied in English.

“Ramdas is a child of God and He has long ago removed all doubts of His child.” The devotee conveyed to the Swamiji in Hindi what Ramdas said.

“What is his position then?” came the next question from the Swamiji.

“His position is this” Ramdas replied, “he is like the river Ganges which, having reached the ocean and become one with it, still continues running towards it.”

When the Swamiji and others heard the reply, a titter went round the congregation. The Swamiji remained silent.

Then the devotee on his own part put a poser:

“What brought you here then?” – a significant question!

“Ramdas came, simply because Ram dragged him here,” was the answer, and he looked at the sannyasi escort and smiled.

“What is it?” the Swamiji asked the devotee inquisitively. The devotee explained, and there arose a loud roar of laughter from the assembly.

Then Ramdas suddenly jumped up, and bowing again to the Swamiji ran a race to his room of the outhouse which he reached in less than a minute.

Swami Ramanand was a simple and kind soul. He looked after Ramdas with great tenderness. He counted on Ramdas’ stay in the ashram for a pretty long time. In his own way he was watchful. Ramdas knew that to leave the place with his knowledge was out of question. Ram was bidding him to decamp – but how?

Ram provided the opportunity one day. The sun was unusually hot. At midday, some of the elderly sannyasis would have their forty winks. But this particular day the heat of the sun laid prostrate both the young and the old. The outhouse, at about one in the afternoon, resounded with a variety of snores! Swami Ramanand led the chorus.

Ramdas, who was all alive and active, taking the gourd pot in hand, slowly slipped out of the compound on tiptoe. He reached the road making the least possible noise – the sannyasis never the wiser. Once on the road, he started on a trot which soon developed into a downright gallop! He ran for a mile and then walked at a brisk pace.