← In the Vision of GodHis autobiography, book two

CHAPTER XXXII

Nilkanthill

(i) First Attempt

Ramdas continued to stay with the Maharashtrian sadhu in his kuti. Two or three days later a sannyasi from Nepal joined them. He felt a great attraction for Ramdas. He was a cheerful old man, stout, hale and hearty. He gave accounts of his extensive travels over the Himalayas. When he talked about hill-climbing, Ramdas got the idea of scaling the Nilkant hill at the back of the ashram and expressed his wish to the sadhus.

“I tried once to go up the hill, swamiji,” said the Nepali sadhu, “but as I could not find the way I had to give up the enterprise. Since you would be making a venture I shall be quite glad to go with you.”

The other sadhu was also consulted and he too agreed to accompany them. Early morning, the following day, they started. They made enquiries from a sadhu in the ashram about the way that led up to the shrine of Nilkant, at the top of the hill. He described certain marks on the route. The party now passed through a dense jungle at the bottom of the hill. They walked up and up. They could not find out the continuation of the beaten track. Ramdas led the party. He climbed up through the thick growth of brambles and trees. The sadhus followed close at his heels.

“Swami, you are going on the path of the siddhas,” cried out the Nepali sadhu, meaning through a trackless path.

When they covered a height of about a mile they came upon a water spring where the sadhus suggested a halt for rest. After refreshing themselves with a drink from the cool spring, the Nepali sadhu said:

“Swami, we have missed the way. No good going further up. Let us retrace our steps to the ashram.”

“No, Maharaj, we should not give up the attempt so soon,” contended Ramdas. “Let us climb higher up and find out what there is at the top of this side of the hill.”

The Nepali sadhu demurred, while the other was silent. He never asserted himself in anything. He had cast his lot with Ramdas’ and he was willing to abide by his decision. The Nepali sadhu was prevailed upon to agree with Ramdas. So, again, they commenced their climb. All through, Ramdas cut almost a direct upward path. He had no patience with winding ways. The Nepali, who had a long stick which he used to good effect, was trudging behind, gasping for breath. On ascending about a mile they reached the bottom of a steep cliff, a solid, rugged and perpendicular rock over a hundred feet high. It became clear that if one could climb up the cliff, one would reach the summit of the hill.

The sadhus rested at the base of the cliff. The Nepali now with a breath of relief said:

“Swami, now at least we can return since further progress in this direction is impossible.”

Ramdas without giving him any reply stood up and gave forth a shrill and long cry of ‘Hari Om’. The jungle and the sides of the majestic hills resounded with the thrilling utterance, but in the rolling reverberations of the sounds was also heard distinctly a corresponding call of a human voice proceeding from the top of the hill.

“Now, there is somebody at the top; Ramdas will go up,” he said.

“Madness!” replied the Nepali. “There is no way to mount up. How can you go?”

“Of course, by climbing the cliff,” Ramdas observed.

“Swami, do you want to commit suicide? Be advised: don’t make your life so cheap and throw it away.”

Ramdas heeded not. He directly bounded towards the threatening rock. He began crawling up on all fours like an ape, making the sharp, frail, slaty edges of the rough cliff as hand and footholds. They would often crumble beneath his feet, but he never lost his balance. Ramnam was being automatically repeated. The body was felt as light as a dry leaf. Higher and higher he climbed with reckless haste. Down below, the sadhus were watching with frightened looks his progress on the cliff. In less than fifteen minutes he scrambled over the giant rock and reached the top. He came upon a vast table-land, green with fields and vegetation. He saw also a small hut at a short distance and a hill-woman attending on a few cows grazing on the pasture. When she saw Ramdas she threw up her hands and cried in terror:

“Go away, go away, don’t come near me.”

“Mother, which is the way to Nilkant?” Ramdas asked.

“It is far away from here. It is on the other corner of the hill,” she replied in a trembling voice.

Ramdas turned in the direction pointed by her outstretched finger and faced a dense and dark forest. If Ramdas walked through this forest he could come by the shrine Nilkant at the other end of the hill. The long distance spoken of by the mother signified miles of forest. He was prepared for the task. He would get the opportunity to come face to face with wild beasts of the jungle. It presented to him a most tempting situation. He knew that it was a daring venture in which life and death had to be counted as light as straw. He had also heard that naked siddhas roamed over these hills. Ramdas would have their darshan and company. He looked down from where he was. The sadhus who appeared small in size from that height were awaiting Ramdas’ return. At the top of his voice Ramdas shouted to them to climb up to where he was and also wildly beckoned them to do so.

“We can’t do it,” came the voice from the Nepali. “Come down yourself; don’t lose time.”

“Turn back, both of you,” replied Ramdas. “He intends going to Nilkant.”

“No, no, I will not return without you. For God’s sake come down,” and the old man – the Nepali – danced in excitement, moving his arms like a wind-mill and showing by such gestures the force and urgency of his call!

Now Ramdas was in a dilemma. A moment’s thought and the Nepali conquered. Ramdas descended; slipped down by a dangerous slope by the side of the cliff. In ten minutes Ramdas was with them again. The old man embraced him through excess of joy, his eyes filled with tears. Now they rested for some time at the spring, where the Maharashtrian sadhu prepared tea in the lota belonging to the Nepali, who carried in his jholi some jaggery and a few tea leaves. The time was about four o’clock.

“Let us hurry down,” suggested the Nepali with fearful concern, “you know, as the evening sets in, wild beasts saunter out of their lairs for quenching their thirst at the spring.”

So the party walked on at a brisk pace. At several places, the Nepali pointed out the foot-prints of wild animals, the sight of which made them run faster. About six o’clock they came back to Swargashram. The Nepali was by now utterly exhausted. What with the fatigue of the hill climbing, fear and anxiety, and gnawings of hunger, the old man was quite spent out.

On reaching the kuti they were told that there had been a bhandara, i.e. a special feast that afternoon at the annakshetra. Ramdas ran up to the kshetra and begged food for three sadhus. The sannyasi in charge kindly supplied the necessary quantity of food from preparations left over from the afternoon feast. Ramdas and the sadhus had a satisfactory meal. Thus ended the first attempt to visit the Nilkant shrine.

(ii) Second Attempt

A few days later Ramcharandas turned up. He was in Hardwar during the Kumbhamela, but Ramdas had missed him in the vast assemblage. He insisted upon Ramdas’ shifting to the double kuti which had been reserved during his absence.

“Ram, you had no business to lock up the room,” remarked Ramdas to him. “The room is the property of all sadhus. During your absence so many sadhus were in search of kutis. Your reservation of the kuti was against the principle of sadhuism.”

Ramdas did not wish to give up the company of the Maharashtra sadhu who had afforded him shelter for so many days. The sadhu also pleaded with Ramdas not to part with him. So for a day or two Ramdas continued to stay with him in spite of the repeated pressure of Ramcharandas who even tried to take him to his kuti by force. At last, finding Ramcharandas greatly upset by his unwillingness to share his kuti, Ramdas shifted to his room. Here Ramdas met two sannyasi disciples of Swami Akhandanand of Chitrakut. Ramdas again thought of going up the Nilkant hill. The Nepali sannyasi had left the ashram soon after his return from the disappointing trip.

Now a party consisting of Ramdas, Ramcharandas, the Maharashtra sadhu and the two sannyasis started on the adventure. But one of the sannyasis knew the route that led up to the Nilkant shrine as he had an occasion to visit the place before.

At this time Ramdas had come into contact with a sincere sadhaka from Nagpur, Ramchandra Timande, and the manager of a Marwadi annakshetra who were both very kind and loving to him. Ramchandra had begun to look upon him as his spiritual guide.

Before setting out on the Nilkant journey Ramcharandas had replenished his jholi with food-stuffs from the Marwadi annakshetra. He possessed already two aluminium vessels and procured from the kshetra a hand hatchet for cutting firewood.

Early one morning the party commenced the ascent of the hill. The sannyasi guide took them along the proper path which, being spiral, was easy to climb. They had to cover a distance of seven miles which they did by midday. Now they came to a small stream of water which they crossed by the help of a wooden bridge and reached a place shaded by the spreading branches of a cluster of giant forest trees, in the middle of which stood the small mandir of Nilkant and two dharmashalas. The party alighted at one of the dharmashalas.

Here a dinner was prepared for all, and by two o’clock they finished their meals. Ramdas and Ramcharandas proposed to spend some days on the hill. The sannyasis and the Maharashtrian sadhu left the hill top for the plains.

Ramdas was now for discovering the edible roots on the hill. So he and Ramcharandas began to dig for them at several places on the hill. It being summer the ground was hard and the hill-folk advised them not to try for the roots as they were deep down in the earth and that it was not the season to dig for them. So they gave up the arduous task.

Ramdas then suggested to Ramcharandas that they should give up the dharmashala and seek a solitary nook on the hill for spending their days. The evening was drawing near. They started inspecting the hill for a secluded and suitable spot. The sun set. They were near a tiny stream in the small valley of a sloping hill. Ramdas climbed up the slope which was covered with a thick growth of short trees. In the midst of a group of trees Ramdas sat down.

“We shall remain here tonight and, after clearing the ground, we shall have between us a small pit in which we shall make a fire to keep us warm in the night,” said Ramdas.

Then they set about collecting the dry twigs and branches of trees. Soon a fire was lit; the ground was cleared of the small shrubs and thorny plants. A lota of water was procured from the spring for drinking purposes. The night was cold but the fire kept them warm. Ramdas acquainted Ramcharandas with what they should do on the morrow.

“Ram, tomorrow let us cut down some trees with the help of the hatchet and erect a small hut to accommodate us and spend some quiet days here.”

Ramcharandas agreed. The night was passed almost in a wakeful condition. From early morning next day, they grew busy in the erection of the proposed hut. Ramdas did the digging of the ground to make it level, and Ramcharandas went about to cut down the short trees for obtaining suitable posts for the shed. They toiled till midday. Ramcharandas prepared, at the small stream, a few roties and dal with which they satisfied their hunger and again applied themselves to the work in hand. They made marvellous progress in the construction of the needed hut. About three o’clock a shepherd of the hills came in that direction with his herd of sheep. Seeing these sadhus he approached and questioned them as to what they were doing. Ramdas made him understand the object of their labour.

“Maharaj,” he said, “why all this unnecessary toil? There is a cave close by, most suitable for your occupation. Some time ago a sadhu was living in it. It is now vacant; you can reside in it instead of taking all this trouble. It is on the edge of a stream of pure crystal water.

Ramdas jumped at the idea and asked him: “Can you lead us to the cave?”

“Come along,” he said, “I can take you to it instantly.”

Turning to Ramcharandas, Ramdas said: “Throw up this work; let us follow him.”

Ramcharandas looked amazed at the whimsical command of Ramdas, but submitted, as he had done many a time before.

(iii) In the Cave

The shepherd escorted the sadhus to a cave about a hundred yards from the shrine of Nilkant, on the edge of a stream that supplied water to the shrine. The place was out of the way. The cave had a wide yawning mouth at its front and, as you entered it, it narrowed until you came to a small inner cavity just sufficient for one person to sit in. They swept the floor and set up a fire. There were signs of ashes indicating its previous occupation by some sadhu. The sweet music of the running stream close by and the distant roars of wild beasts were heard in the nights. The cave presented a prospect at once weird and awe-inspiring, and Ramdas liked the place very much.

The victuals that Ramcharandas possessed lasted them for about five days. Meanwhile, news spread among sadhus and pilgrims in Rishikesh and Swargashram that two sadhus were living on this hill in a cave, situated in a dreadful place. Hundreds of people commenced to come for the darshan of the sadhus. They brought various presents, such as milk, grapes, sugarcandy, fried gram, almonds, etc. It was clear that God was busy in seeing that they did not feel the want of the necessities of life!

One day, Ramcharandas asked:

“Swamiji, how long are we to stay here?”

“Ramdas has no idea,” replied Ramdas, “It may be for months. The place has captured Ramdas’ heart.”

When there were no visitors they started collecting firewood. Stout, green branches were cut down and put up in the sun for drying. Ramdas was hewing down a thick stump of a dried-up tree. The axe was a small one and he had to work at it for three days, spending on it a couple of hours in the morning and evening. At last it was cut down, but the heavy log had yet to be carried to the mouth of the cave, and this task was reserved for a later occasion.

Daily the number of visitors increased. One evening a strong and well-built sadhu paid them a visit. He had bangles on his wrists, rings on his fingers and a jholi suspended on his shoulder, containing a number of things. He presented Ramdas with a big lump of charas or extract of ganja for smoking. Ramdas accepted the gift. The sadhu was a ganja smoker himself. After some time he left the cave. On his departure Ramdas threw the lump of charas into the fire and burnt it to ashes. Next day the sadhu turned up again. He was short of charas. He expected Ramdas to provide him with some from the lump given by him the previous evening.

“May I have some charas?” he asked.

“Ramdas destroyed in the fire the lump of charas you presented him with,” replied Ramdas.

“Well done, Maharaj,” he said with a sigh of relief. “I have become a slave to this vice and by your contact I hope to be freed from it.” Thereafter, taking a great liking for Ramdas, he became a constant visitor.

Now the usual provisions for cooking dal and roti were nearly exhausted, although the gifts of other eatables were raining down every day. Ramcharandas was for the daily dal and roti.

“Swamiji,” he said one night, “the provisions have run out. I intend going down to Marwadi kshetra in Swargashram and bringing provisions to last us for at least a fortnight. We require also earthen pots for fetching and storing water. I shall also obtain these.”

“Ram,” Ramdas observed, “why all this trouble? God provides us here. Let us be satisfied with the things He sends us.”

“No, Swamiji, a meal of dal and roti, once a day, is essential. It is no trouble to me. I can manage to get the articles without difficulty. I have resolved upon it. I will start tomorrow morning and try to return by the evening,” he said.

He was obstinate and Ramdas submitted. Early next morning, he climbed down the hill and made his way to Swargashram. That evening he was detained at the ashram. Ramdas enjoyed the perfect solitude of the cave in the night. Next day, at dusk, Ramcharandas tottered into the cave with a heavy burden on his head. He was carrying an enormous gunny bag bulging out with its contents and had also two big earthen pots hanging at his back.

He lowered the sack and released the pots and rolled on the floor of the cave through utter exhaustion. For full ten minutes he was unable to speak. He was just panting for breath. Then he slowly opened the bag and took out bundle after bundle of rice, dal, wheat-flour, potatoes, jaggery, ghee, sugar and what not. The provisions would have sufficed for over a month.

“What a wonderful fellow you are! Why so much?” Ramdas asked.

“So much? why, we need it all,” he exclaimed. “It saves my going down frequently; for a month at least we can remain here quietly without any anxiety about food.”

“Ram, you seem to trust more in these food-stuffs than in God!” Ramdas remarked.

Ramcharandas was not inclined to talk. The inner cavity in the cave was at once converted into a store-room and the bundles were nicely arranged inside it and Ramdas helped him in the work.

On the succeeding day, the fuel not being quite dry, Ramcharandas experienced great difficulty in cooking, Moreover, as the cooking had to be done in the open air, the strong breezes prevented the fire burning steadily. So that day’s roties were under-baked and the dal half-boiled. Ramdas was lacking in teeth. Somehow he managed to swallow down the raw food. Even the meals prepared on the previous days had not been well-cooked as they had told upon Ramdas’ digestion. Ramcharandas was still a sadhaka in this line as well! The cumulative effect of the indifferently cooked food affected Ramdas and he got a severe attack of dysentery which continued for over a fortnight.

Two days later, Ramdas had a visit from half-a-dozen sadhus. One of them, in the course of talk, suggested:

“Maharaj, why are you cooping yourself up here in this solitary place? You ought to travel in Punjab and Kashmir and enjoy the prem of the devotees of those parts, especially in Punjab where the people are so filled with devotion and love. You should not fail to visit that province.”

Ramdas was at once impressed by his advice and believed that the hint came from God Himself for making a move from the cave. When the visitors departed Ramdas turned to Ramcharandas and said:

“Ram, it is the command of God that we should depart from here and travel towards Punjab and Kashmir. Make yourself ready for starting.”

The boy, hearing Ramdas’ words, turned pale and then blue! He fondly glanced at the store-room.

“It is all very well,” said Ramcharandas with a slow voice and a wry face. “Thank God, we are saved the terrible labour, that is, of rolling up the heavy stump of the tree from the ditch, into which it has fallen, to the mouth of the cave.”

At this Ramdas could not control a laugh and the boy could not help joining him.

The stored provisions and the pots were then distributed among the hill-men and women, and by evening they found themselves in the small thatched kuti near the Marwadi annakshetra of Swargashram. The sadhu who had been addicted to charas, but who was now free from its clutches stuck on to Ramdas. He accompanied Ramdas down the hill and remained with him. He insisted upon following Ramdas wherever he went. Ramdas dissuaded him saying that he would find it very difficult to keep pace with Ramdas while walking. The weak point about the sadhu was that he could not walk fast on account of his bulky body. Moreover, Ramdas assured him that by keeping company with Ramdas he would not gain much, since the Truth he was in search of was within himself. Eventually, he was prevailed upon to abandon the idea of hanging on to him.

Ramchandra Timande and Brijlal Munim of Marwadi kshetra were overflowing in their kindness and hospitality. Ramdas proposed to travel on foot to Kashmir over the mountains. He was told that there was a path across the mountains that would lead to Kashmir; only that it was a tedious and perilous one. The undaunted spirit within Ramdas egged him on to undertake the difficult journey. Ramchandra Timande strongly opposed the idea and insisted upon Ramdas’ travelling by train first to Punjab and then to Kashmir.

“Swamiji, there are two famous places worth visiting in Punjab, Chintapurni and Jwalajee. I will see that you are both provided with tickets as far as Hoshiarpur station, wherefrom you have to travel on foot to these noted shrines.”

The kind-hearted friend succeeded in persuading Ramdas to leave Rishikesh with Ramcharandas by a train running towards Punjab.