← In the Vision of GodHis autobiography, book two

CHAPTER XIX

Banda – Gohkar Parvat

(i) Nothing Is Impossible for God

Tapaswiji had left the hill, the day following the night that Balak Ram attempted to strangle the boy-servant. The boy had also disappeared. For want of a servant it was now difficult to get meals from Seth Moolchand’s. Ramdas was going on milk diet, and some devotees brought him milk regularly morning and evening. Now Balak Ram also shared the milk with him. Balak Ram commenced repeating the Ram-mantram. For two days he remained quiet. He was free from fits of temper. Ganja was eschewed. He talked very little. He was resigned and peaceful. On the second day he said that he felt hungry.

Straightaway, Ramdas with an escort proceeded to Budhram Kuva where sadhu Vishuddhanand resided. At the sight of him the sadhu went into ecstasies. He welcomed him with a fond embrace. He was an old man, lean and tall, with a long white beard and hair reaching his shoulders. He wore only a kaupin. Ramdas told him that he had come to beg for a meal for the sake of Balak Ram.

“I would allow you to carry food to him,” he said, “only after you have had your meal here.”

He was an active old man. Within half an hour he cooked a simple meal of soft roties and dal. Then he took Ramdas to a well. The place was named after the saint at whose instance the well was dug. Before Vishuddhanand came to occupy the place, there lived a sadhu who went by the name Budhram. Hence the name Budhram Kuva, that is, Budhram’s well.

As an Indian mother washes her child, so Vishuddhanand bathed Ramdas with his own hands, drawing water from the well. Then feeding him with a plain but wholesome meal he had prepared, he permitted Ramdas to leave him, carrying a meal for Balak Ram. Balak Ram took the food. In the evening his craving for ganja returned, and unable to resist he smoked it again. God’s Name left his tongue, the old temper subdued for two days once more raised its vicious hood.

The following day, he proposed to have a Ramlila performance at the cave. It is a religious function in which two men sing alternately, to the accompaniment of musical instruments, the exploits of Sri Ramchandra. These performances are popular in the United Provinces, and hundreds of people assemble on the occasion. Balak Ram, since morning, was trying to persuade the visitors to arrange for the function, but none would take any interest in the matter. He was sorely upset and disappointed.

At midday, Ramdas was lying down in the small cave, when the pujari of the Mahadev temple, a frequent visitor, came up:

“Pujari, you must somehow manage to have Ramlila performed here tonight,” said Balak Ram.

“Maharaj,” he replied, “I am a poor man. The performance will cost ten rupees. I don’t see how I can collect so much money.”

“No, no, pujari, I am bent upon it. Do arrange any way,” insisted Balak Ram.

“You are asking me to do the impossible,” pleaded the pujari.

Ramdas in the cave was listening to their conversation and, at this juncture, spoke:

“Pujari, nothing is impossible for God. Why do you think you are the doer in any matter? Take it that you are merely His instrument and set about this business, and God will crown your efforts with success,” assured Ramdas.

“Well, if it be Mahadev’s will let it be done. I feel now I can be a tool in His hands in this affair. I am going,” and he left.

Balak Ram had still his doubts; time passed. It was nearing five o’clock and he remarked in a despondent tone:

“Maharaj, there is no hope of Ramlila. The pujari is not to be seen.”

“There is yet time; don’t be impatient,” said Ramdas.

Ten minutes had not elapsed when half a dozen men arrived, carrying with them all the necessaries for the Ramlila performance – rugs, carpets, flowers, gas lights, sweets, agarbattis, fruits, festoons and other articles. A party of musicians also came with their musical instruments. Now Balak Ram’s face brightened.

“Maharaj,” he said to Ramdas, “will you kindly go to Vishuddhanand and fetch him? His blessed company is also needed at this function. He will come only if you invite him personally.”

Ramdas accordingly started and went to Budhram Kuva and begged the old sadhu to grace the performance with his presence. He agreed and both reached the cave on the hill by seven o’clock. Meanwhile, the place at the front of the cave had been beautifully decorated. The rugs and carpets were spread on the floor and over a hundred persons of both sexes had assembled, and the gas lamp was shedding its brilliant light on the scene. The pujari was busy arranging things.

Balak Ram, Vishuddhanand and Ramdas sat in a line at the mouth of the cave and the Ramlila celebration commenced. The singers possessed a sweet voice and the air thrilled with their music. The performance continued till one o’clock when the crowd dispersed.

(ii) The Absolute Fast

On the day following the Ramlila performance, Ramdas roamed over the Bambeshwar hill and came across another cave, a few yards above the one occupied by Balak Ram. It was made up of large blocks of rock leaning against each other forming below a big cavity, having an opening right at the top where the rocks met. The entrance to the cave was a narrow passage through which one could not pass abreast. One had to force oneself sideways.

He went inside and saw that the space within was sufficient to accommodate one person. Caves exerted a strange influence on him. The moment he saw one he would decide to spend some days in it. This cave also appeared to invite him for a stay, but on condition that he should remain in it without food and drink, not even water, observing at the same time the vow of silence.

Going down to Balak Ram, he said: “Ramji, a little way up there is a cave. Ram wills that Ramdas should dwell in it and go on an absolute fast. He should not drink even water, and should hold perfect silence.”

“For what period is the fast to last?” questioned he.

“Ramdas has no idea, Ram will determine it,” Ramdas answered.

Balak Ram obtained through the visitors a basketful of cow-dung and, having the inside of the cave well swept, smeared it with a layer of it. After the floor was dry he spread on it a torn mat he had. In making these arrangements Balak Ram manifested great enthusiasm. In the evening Ramdas occupied the cave. He sat up on the mat in utter darkness, mentally repeating the Ram-mantram. Where the rocks that formed the cave met were deep recesses filled with dry leaves. In the darkness the rustling noises produced by creeping creatures living in these recesses would fall on his ears. Sometimes he would feel they were crawling quite near him. Fear had gone out of his life. He was calm and undisturbed. An upward glance revealed the distant blue heavens, glittering with twinkling stars through the angular opening, at the summit of the cave.

The day dawned. Balak Ram came to see him and remained for a few minutes. Seeing Ramdas silent and indifferent he left. The day passed. The time was mid-summer. Summer in the United Provinces is attended with extreme heat. From ten to five during the day the sun was belching forth fire. The rocks of the cave exposed to the direct blaze of the sun would burn with intense heat. Fiery breezes were blowing into the cave through the narrow entrance. Ramdas scarcely moved from the mat. The second day passed.

On the third day he rose above body consciousness, and his experience was that he felt a solemn blankness in existence. A stillness and peace pervaded his being. He was now mostly lying down on the mat flat on his back. He had not a wink of sleep and his eyes were ever open, even in the nights, for he could not keep them shut long. Neither weakness nor pangs of hunger affected him in the least. Balak Ram was paying him a visit every morning. He thought that the fast was for his sake. He hoped that by Ramdas’ austerity he would attain liberation. Ramdas did not know nor did he care to know the why and wherefore of the fast. He simply observed it by Ram’s will.

At midnight, on the third day, Ramdas was sitting on the asan when suddenly a thunder crash was heard and for a quarter of an hour it rained in torrents. The rain pouring down the opening at the roof of the cave, directly fell on him as though he were seated beneath a waterfall. He was wholly drenched and the cave was filled with water to the height of an inch. He budged not. His only cloth and the mat were thoroughly soaked. Next day the heat of the sun was as rigorous as ever, and so, by noon, the water in the cave dried up; so also the cloth and the mat.

The news of the fast spread in the city of Banda. People in large numbers mounted the hill to see him. Many of them came only as far as the lower cave and after inquiries with Balak Ram returned, while some ascended to the upper cave in which Ramdas lived. They would only peep within through the narrow passage, but none dared to enter. They displayed superstitious awe.

However, in the afternoon, a man boldly came in. Ramdas was reclining. The visitor sat down at first at his feet and slowly commenced massaging his legs. Then drawing near Ramdas’ face, he burst into tears. He wept like a child. Brushing aside his tears by the sleeves of his coat, he spoke:

“Maharaj, I am a poor cobbler. I do my work on the roadside. One of my customers, who came to me for repairing his shoes, narrated the story of your fast. He said that you had even eschewed drinking water. The news terribly upset me. I thought: ‘How could I go home and take my dinner, knowing that there is one on the hill who is starving?’ My mind revolted at the idea. Dazed and bewildered I at once threw down the work and ran up here. Now, my resolution is this: until you take food I am determined not to have it for myself. I prefer to fast with you. Till then, I am also going to stick to this cave.”

His speech struck a chord in Ramdas’ heart which was silent during the fast and set it vibrating. His whole frame responded to the thrill that emanated from it. He suddenly sat up with a bound and, placing both his hands on the shoulders of the cobbler, asked:

“What do you want Ramdas to do?”

“Take food, of course,” he replied.

“Well, get him something then,” Ramdas said.

“I shall bring whatever you want,” he answered eagerly.

“A cup of milk,” Ramdas suggested.

At once the cobbler friend left the cave and reappeared in ten minutes with a bowl filled with milk. He was panting which showed that he must have run to and from the bazaar.

“Here you are, Maharaj,” he said and offered the milk. Ramdas drank it.

(iii) Balak Ram, the Prodigal

The fast broken, Ramdas immediately abandoned the cave and came down. Balak Ram was surprised to see him.

“Ramji,” Ramdas told him, “Ram commands Ramdas to quit the hill and depart from Banda; he is off.”

“Fine, I would also follow. My place is with you. I cannot give you up,” he replied.

Ramdas dissuaded him, but he was obstinate. Both descended the hill and he directed Ramdas to the house of Seth Moolchand. The seth and his wife welcomed them with great joy. Ramdas proposed to leave Banda on foot for Jhansi, early next morning.

“Swamiji, I shall take you to Mahoba,” interposed and urged Balak Ram. “About three miles from the town is a place worth visiting – of hills and jungles. It is considered to be a tapobhumi. It is called Gohkar Parvat. I had occasion to live on the hills for some months. Now we shall proceed straight to that spot, not on foot but by railway.”

There was a night train running to Mahoba, and Ramdas suggested departure by that train. Meanwhile, a large number of people had gathered in Moolchand’s house for the darshan of the sadhus. Among them was the devout sister of Moolchand. She came forward.

“Maharaj,” she said, “I have a humble appeal to you. I beg that you may postpone your journey till tomorrow night. My prayer is that you should both grace my house with your presence tomorrow for the midday meal.”

Ramdas accepted her invitation and Balak Ram followed suit. The night was passed in the front-yard of Moolchand’s house. The following day, at eleven o’clock, Moolchand’s sister came to escort the sadhus to her house. She was the wife of a rich merchant.

The sadhus were taken to a room on the upper floor of her big house. Seated, side by side, they were served with meals. They were fed on choice dishes. The mother was all love. The meal over, she requested Ramdas to enlighten them with a discourse on bhakti. All the ladies of the household assembled in the room to hear him. Although his Hindi was poor he would grow eloquent when he talked on religious topics. He spoke for nearly an hour. He intermingled in his discourse many Puranic episodes describing how in the life of devotees, after a keen struggle, bhakti triumphed. In short he held out devotion to God as the one purpose of human existence. The listeners were touched by the talk and tears of pure emotion flowed down their cheeks.

Now, he was about to start when Balak Ram beckoning him to be seated a few minutes more, said: “I have also a few words to say” – then turning his gaze at the hostess, “Twenty rupees down for sadhu seva – at once, quick,” and raising his right hand high in the air he brought it down striking the floor with his palm. The kind hostess and other ladies were struck dumb at this sudden demand.

“Mataji,” said Balak Ram, “why do you hesitate? – come along – no time to lose; twenty rupees down.”

The bewildered mother left the room and reappearing with the money placed a pile of twenty rupees in silver in front of the sadhus. Balak Ram at once closed his fingers on the pile and holding the amount in his hand got up.

“Swamiji, let us now go,” he said turning to Ramdas. They went out and reached Moolchand’s house.

Balak Ram, now a master of wealth, set about discovering ways and means of spending it. He called a visitor to his side and said: “Here are six rupees; get me from the bazaar orange coloured cloth sufficient for a gown, and also a tailor.” The visitor left with the money.

“Now, you there,” he called another, “here, two rupees; bring me two rupee worth of charas (extract of ganja).” The second visitor was also sent away on his errand.

In a couple of hours he had the long loose gown decking his body and had a few full doses of charas smoke. He had still eleven rupees left. The coins jingled in his hands and he was laughing most benignantly.

“Swamiji, let us take a round in the bazaar,” he suggested.

A party started consisting of Balak Ram, Ramdas and three or four others. He strutted in the streets as if he were “the monarch of all he surveyed.” His outstretched arms moved to and fro, his shoulders rose and fell at every stride, his legs wide apart tramped with a measured and proud pace; his head, seemingly poised on a loose pivot, moved like a pendulum from one side to the other. His whole bearing showed that he wanted to impress upon the ignorant world that a great personage had been gracious enough to bless the streets of Banda with his holy tread! In the thickly crowded bazaar people made way at his approach. Many bowed and prostrated before him. O! Ram, what wonderful masks you put on!

Balak Ram descrying an umbrella shop got in and came out with a fashionable umbrella worth three rupees. Next, entering a shop of footwear, he purchased a pair of shining shoes and a pair of socks, striped yellow and red.

Now he flourished the umbrella in his right hand, and as the shoes were of a size too small for his feet he hobbled along, adding to the majesty of his gait. Merchants in their shops forgetting for a time to attend to their customers, gazed on Balak Ram in wonder, not unmixed with awe. At last the party arrived at the point from which they started, that is Moolchand’s house.

“Curses be on the bootmaker,” he shouted.

Sitting on a bench he asked one of the devotees to pull out his shoes at once. One of the party removed the shoes from off his feet, as also the socks. When Balak Ram raised his heels what did he see? – two blisters as big as marbles!

“The blackguard!” he cried out in rage, “he cheated me downright. He shall not go scot-free; come on, let us go to him; I would have a good pull at his long beard.”

The party started again, now on an adventure. He made one of the party carry the shoes. Giving up his lordly gait Balak Ram was now hurrying on at a brisk pace. His hands were presumably itching to have a tug at the Muslim’s beard! They came before the shop but it was closed. In the intoxication of charas, Balak Ram did not remember the shop from which he had made the purchase. Adjoining the closed shop was another dealer in boots and a bearded old man was seated at the counter. Balak Ram approached him, and was about to give a full and free play to his well-trained tongue when Ramdas pulled him by the sleeves and warned him.

“Look here, you are about to tear up the wrong man. It is from the closed shop that you bought the pair of shoes. Let us be away.”

The party turned back. Balak Ram was fuming like a suppressed volcano. All the way he had conjured up a charming array of choice epithets to be shot at the shopkeeper, but all went in vain! His chagrin was great. But he made good the loss to some degree. He stood before the closed shop and delivered himself of the invective on the absent bootmaker, dragging into it also his ancestors and descendants, resolving them all finally into one lump of the most despicable piece of humanity. On their way back to Moolchand’s house, in a rumbling sound like slow thunder, he further gave vent to some newly remembered choice bits of billingsgate.

(iv) Cause of Toothache

By the night train Balak Ram and Ramdas started from Banda and reached Mahoba early the next morning. In the bazaar they were greeted by Balak Ram’s old friends. Of these two, Bahadur and Jagannath were most assiduous in their attention. In the evening, they proceeded to the Gohkar Parvat. When leaving the town, Balak Ram divested himself of the long gown and presented it to a friend in the bazaar. Similarly, the umbrella and the shoes were also given away. He remained in bare kaupin.

The Gohkar Parvat was made up of a series of mountains, some low and others high. The mountains were formed of huge black boulders piled up together. Here tall trees were sparse, but the hills were covered over with a thick growth of shrubs and grass. At a lower level, around the extensive area of the hills, were small lakes bearing on their placid bosom red and white lotuses. As they climbed the hills, they reached a central piece of level ground, enclosed all round by lofty hills. Right in the middle of this level ground was a heap of giant rocks, about a hundred feet high. At the base of this pile was a cave like a cubical room. Now a difficult ascent, a few yards upwards, revealed another spacious but very low compartment between two broad and flat rocks. In this compartment was another recess which could just accommodate one person. The compartment and the recess were so low that one could move in it only on one’s haunches. This rocky upper chamber was occupied for the night.

Balak Ram’s temper was as bad as ever. At the least provocation he railed violently at the visitors. When alone with him, Ramdas again talked to him of peace. In response he resolved that he would from the ensuing day observe perfect silence, live on mere milk diet, and not quit the chamber for seven days. He also desired to remain quite solitary and to allow no visitors to come up except Ramdas. The latter undertook to carry for him from below milk, water, etc. He also appealed to Balak Ram to go on with the repetition of Ramnam.

Next day Ramdas took his position under a slanting rock at the base of the hill. The visitors commenced to pour in. They demanded to see Balak Ram. Ramdas explained to them the situation as it stood. They were much disappointed and grumbled. He discharged the duty imposed on him; that is, on the one hand of persuading the visitors not to climb up the hill to see Balak Ram and, on the other, of carrying food and water to him in his solitary cell.

One thing has to be noted that this part of the hill was bereft of water supply. There was neither a spring nor a well. Water had to be brought from a well nearly two miles from the cave. The kind friends Bahadur and Jagannath arranged for the supply.

One night Ramdas discovered Balak Ram lying down on a flat rock, at the top of the cave, moaning and crying with pain.

“What is the matter with you, Ram?” Ramdas asked, approaching him.

“Maharaj, I have a severe attack of toothache. I cannot bear the excruciating pain,” he sobbed.

Ramdas passed his hand over him soothingly, when he added: “Do you know why I suffer like this? I shall tell you: I can well understand that it is all due to the curses of my wife and children whom I have deserted.”

“Lord!” Ramdas exclaimed, “if that be the case why not return to them?”

“Impossible,” he jerked out: “I have absolutely severed myself from them, leaving no hope of return.”

“There is no such thing, Ram. You can yet go back to them if only you make up your mind,” Ramdas assured him.

But Balak Ram was firm in his convictions. Soon after this he fell asleep and the following day he was free from pain.

Day after day passed. The visitors from the city, who came in large numbers, clamoured for Balak Ram’s darshan. They in a way accused Ramdas of being at the bottom of the affair. But he took their remarks in good part. Balak Ram, on the other side, was also growing impatient. He struggled with his mind which revolted against the restrictions imposed on it. On the fifth day, a large crowd of devotees at the foot of the hill raised a hue and cry, and the noise reached the ears of Balak Ram in his seclusion. Out he came like a prisoner set free, and jumping from stone to stone was in a minute in the midst of the crowd. He received from the mass a loud ovation.

For a few minutes he was mild, cheerful and smiling. The passion that lay dormant for five days once more raised its hood. Now its venom flowed with unabated fury, in a torrent of abuse on all the people assembled there. At this the crowd slowly melted away and dispersed. The majority skulked away to their homes. A few remained who tolerated and loved him, in spite of his violent nature. Many of his admirers knew that his outbursts were not to be taken seriously and that his heart was tender, compassionate and loving. Ramdas once observed him fondling a baby. He was simply lost in raptures when he was in its society. He was an avowed enemy of falsehood, deceit and greed. Towards these his attitude was most violent and uncompromising.

On the evening of the same day, when Balak Ram became free from the restrictions of his vow, Ramdas expressed his wish to leave Mahoba that night for Jhansi. Balak Ram remonstrated, wept, caught Ramdas’ feet, appealed and did his best to detain him for a longer period. But Ramdas was so firm in his resolution that Balak Ram could not move him this time. Accordingly, he started by the night train from Mahoba and reached Jhansi next morning.