← In the Vision of GodHis autobiography, book two

CHAPTER XXXVI

Kashmir (Contd.)

(i) The Lake of the Mind

Another day which was a Sunday, Amarnath Bakshi took Ramdas out on an excursion to the famous gardens of Kashmir, Shalimar and Nishad Bag. In order to reach the gardens they had to slide over the glassy surface of the Dal lake on a kisti. The boat passed through the river and the canals that led up to the lake, displaying as it proceeded, willows and dense vegetation along the banks of the canals. An hour’s trip brought them at the landing of the Nishad Bag.

They made their way inside the garden. The scene that now spread out before the gaze of Ramdas was of exquisite charm and grace. The garden was symmetrical in its formation; a wide sheet of pure sparkling water like a band was running down, right through the middle of the garden grounds. On both sides of this shallow stream were laid out carefully designed beds of flower plants and trees of various species. The yellow and blue, crimson and white, violet and orange colours of the flowers vied with one another in lending a bewitching charm to this floral picture, painted in nature’s own variegated tints. The rose, the lily, the chrysanthemum, the marigold, the carnation, the daisy, the violet and the bluebell displayed their brilliant freshness in profusion.

The evergreen cone-shaped fir trees and the giant chenar, a tree peculiar to Kashmir, cast their deep but cool shade in the garden. As they walked up the plot which is made up into several flats, he saw hundreds of fountains at work sending forth their spray twenty feet up into the air. On a higher level in the centre of the garden is situated a solid structure supported on polished stone pillars. The surrounding view of the garden is also most imposing. The garden is laid out at the foot of mountains which form its background with the extended stretch of the Dal lake in its front.

The Shalimar garden is in several respects an exact replica of the Nishad Bag. These gardens were first put up by Shahjahan and Jehangir, the famous Moghul kings. These picturesque grounds are indeed the paradise of the Muhammadans.

While on their return journey by the same kisti in which they had proceeded to the gardens, Amarnath narrated a legal perplexity with which the magistrates of Kashmir were confronted. While in other places movable property, such as money and other articles are subjects of theft, here landed property is also stolen. The lakes have a thick growth of stout reeds and these areas are converted into floating fields for cultivation. Bits of these fields are often cut off by the owners of the adjoining fields with thieving propensities, and are slid over the surface of the water and tacked on to their own, which action results in law suits. By evening the party returned to the city.

Ramdas also paid visits to Vicharnag, a place shaded by giant chenar trees and with a tank famous for its sanctity, and Ram Bagh with its beautiful flower gardens and the storied dharmashala for travellers, both the sites being outside the city precincts.

Another day he made a trip to Harvan, a charming retreat, nine miles from Srinagar. The landscape, the lake and the running stream of dazzling water with the background of high mountains full of vegetation comprised a most fascinating sight. He felt the subtle spell of the place. The lake stood on a higher level facing the mountains. When he first saw it, a soft breeze was blowing over its bosom moving the limpid, transparent waters into ripples that suffused its surface. During the half-hour’s saunter amidst the attractive scenes he directed his gaze again to the lake. The breeze had stopped and the lake shone like a huge mirror, its surface now placid, calm and still, reflecting the glorious picture of the surrounding mountains.

Pointing to the lake, Ramdas remarked to Amarnath: “The human mind can be compared to this lake. When the breeze of maya sweeps on the lake of the mind, waves of desire rise, disturbance ensues, but no sooner does maya cease to play on it than it becomes calm and peaceful as it is seen now, revealing a vision of unsurpassed splendour and joy.” Before dark they got back to Srinagar.

Being of a sincere and lovable nature, Amarnath was acutely feeling the separation of Janakinath, his elder brother, who with many other pundits of his departments, by a strange act of the Kashmir Government, was ordered to remain in Jammu for all seasons of the year. About the time of Ramdas’ departure from Jammu, a post in the department had become vacant in Srinagar for which Janakinath was eligible, and he had applied for it. Amarnath was in his anxiety exerting all his influence with the authorities to bring about the desired transfer. He would every day, during this time, come to Ramdas.

“Swamiji, do pray for the success of my brother,” he would say, “Janakinath is so unhappy at Jammu in this hot weather and his family here is also miserable on account of his absence from their midst.”

Ramdas would then simply assure him; “Trust God. Give up anxiety and all will be well.”

Day after day was spent by the brother and the family on the tender-hooks of expectation. A week thus passed. One day Amarnath came to him and reported with a face bright and smiling:

“Swamiji, at last my brother got the appointment. I have a wire from him to say that he will be here in a short time to join the post; this is all your kindness.”

“God be praised for it,” replied Ramdas. “It is all His doing.”

Before the end of the next week Janakinath was in Srinagar. The first thing he did, as he entered his house, was to rush up to the room in which Ramdas lived, take him in his arms and clasp him in a fast and fond embrace lasting for several minutes. Now the whole household brightened up with cheer and happiness.

(ii) Kabir and Uddhav

During his stay in Kashmir, Ramdas had to carry on a large amount of correspondence with the friends in different parts of India. Once he received a letter from U. Sanjivarao of Bombay asking him to see a Saraswat of North Kanara who was then holding a prominent post under the State Government. Durgadas Nagarkatte was the Director of Industries for Kashmir State. The letter also spoke of his ailment, bone tuberculosis, that affected his legs as a result of which he was completely disabled from walking except on crutches. Ramdas understood that Durgadas was a busy man and so would not have thrust himself on him (Durgadas), had the thought of his physical condition not moved Ramdas. However, he took Sanjivarao’s suggestion and in company with two pandits proceeded to Durgadas’ residence. The party was made to wait in his office-tent in front of his bungalow, while Ramdas had to send him a note as a visiting card. He mentioned in the note simply that he was a sadhu from Kanara and had directions to see him.

Even after twenty minutes’ waiting there was no response to the note. Word was then sent to him to know definitely if he would like to grant Ramdas an interview. The only reply that he got was that Durgadas was far from eager to receive him!

Now Ramdas turning to the pandits said: “God’s will seems to be that he should not see Durgadas. So we shall retrace our steps to Janakinath’s.” While returning they saw the huge pile of building of the Industrial School. The pandits proposed to have a look around the school. Accordingly they entered the building and passed from chamber to chamber examining the products of various industries, in which a practical course of training was given to the students by experts employed for the purpose. The experts were most affable and obliging to Ramdas. When he entered a class room where a batch of students was receiving theoretical instructions, the teacher resigned his seat to him, who converted the class for a short half-hour into one of religious instruction. He delivered a discourse on God, devotion and His Name. Both the teacher and the boys were highly elated by his presence and the talk.

Leaving this room the party finished the inspection on the ground floor and ascended upstairs. Here they entered a research laboratory where a couple of students were engaged in some experiments. One of them led the party to the office room of the professor in charge, an Indian, seated at his table. Seeing him the professor welcomed him and offered a chair. He sat down. In the course of his talk Ramdas told him how he was refused audience by Durgadas. The professor had taken a sudden liking for him.

“There must be some mistake. Durgadas does not know you, but would certainly be happy to see you,” eagerly said the professor and added: “I shall send a boy to let him know about you and see that you get an interview with him. Meanwhile, please wait here.”

He at once despatched a student to Durgadas’ bungalow. In the meantime the kind professor showed him many pieces of intricate apparatus intended for various works of research. Ramdas looked through a microscope and saw a speck of wheat flour as big as a pea. These scientific instruments can reveal only things perceptible to the senses but in the field of spirit they are utterly useless, because the vision of the spirit can be had by the sole aid of a super-consciousness which is beyond the sphere of the senses.

Soon after this, a young man came from Durgadas’ house-hold to fetch him. Ramdas met Durgadas in his office. He was an elderly man, tall and of dark complexion. He attempted to rise from the chair when Ramdas entered the room, but his complaint prevented him from doing so. He pointed to a chair in front of him and Ramdas sat down. A few words explained to him the reason of Ramdas’ visit. He gave a short account of his disease and then called for some refreshments for Ramdas from which he drank a cup of milk. He was then on mere milk diet. Durgadas was evidently a busy man. He was engaged with a visitor when Ramdas went to him and many others were waiting outside for their turn. Now Ramdas stood up to depart, but Durgadas would not have it so.

“You have been so long in Srinagar,” he said, “and I had no opportunity to have you with me. I will not allow you to go until you have spent some days at our house as well.”

His repeated appeals induced Ramdas to remain. The pandit-escorts who were waiting outside were told of the decision and they took leave and returned to their homes. Ramdas had stipulated two conditions for his stay: one was that he would during the time live only on milk diet and that the following day he should be permitted to go back to the city as he had shortly to leave for Amarnath on pilgrimage. Durgadas would not agree to the latter condition.

Ramdas was given a separate spacious room on the upper floor of his palatial residence and was provided with every convenience. The mothers of the house were extremely kind in their attentions. Here Ramdas had the constant society of Durgadas’ two little sons, Kabir and Uddhav. Ramdas enjoyed their playful society and lisping talks. On account of his disability, Durgadas could not come up to the room in which Ramdas lived. Next day, in the afternoon, Ramdas went down and directly going to his office-room announced his desire to leave for the city. Expostulation was useless. The young man of the house had to take him back to Janakinath’s where he was welcomed by all in the household with manifest delight.

About this time he received a letter from mother Elizabeth written at the instance of Raja Ram, the Thakur Saheb of Limbdi. Raja Ram offered to furnish him with a note of introduction to the Maharaja of Kashmir, Hari Singh, if he felt an inclination to see him. Ramdas replied that Ram did not prompt him from within to go in for a darshan of the Maharaja, but might agree in the matter, if the Maharaja himself had expressed a desire to see him. So he asked Raja Ram to correspond with the Maharaja and know his mind. He had nothing to gain by seeing anybody. He was controlled and guided by Ram in all things. As the matter was dropped, nothing further came of it.

(iii) The Mysterious Ways of God

Ramdas’ stay in Srinagar by this time had extended over two months and the coveted pilgrimage to Amarnath was fast approaching. Janakinath argued with Ramdas a great deal and made an attempt to dissuade him from the proposed pilgrimage. He expatiated on the severity of the cold in that region and the difficult ascents on the hills that led up to it. But Ramdas was determined.

Ramcharandas now suddenly turned up. He was very emaciated and his feet were worn out and full of blisters. Since they separated near Pathankot in Punjab, he said that he had to undergo most dreadful trials and hardships. What with the cold, continuous tramping on foot and often starvation, he had been reduced to a terrible plight. With perfect rest, added to the tender care and nursing of the loving daughters of Janakinath, he soon became his old self.

In the company of mother Taravati, wife of Janakinath and her small children, Ramdas and Ramcharandas went for the darshan of Khir Bhavani about ten miles from the city. This shrine is situated beneath the vast spreading branches of the chenar with the river Sindhu flowing on two sides of it. It is noted for the temple of the goddess Bhavani. The temple, a small structure, is in the centre of the grounds erected at the edge of a deep rectangular pit constructed of brick and cement. This pit is intended for receiving presents of rice and milk pudding offered to the goddess. This is her favourite prasad; hence her name Khir Bhavani. The accumulation of pudding thrown into the pit by hundreds of devotees, who daily visit the shrine, gave out a stench that filled the atmosphere. No effort was made to keep the pit clean – may be there was some religious significance in allowing the pudding to rot in the pit.

Mother Taravati performed her puja of the goddess with the help of a pandit priest. By evening they returned to Janakinath’s house at Srinagar.

“How do you like the spot Khir Bhavani?” asked Janakinath.

“The place is all right but it is a pity that the goddess should be imprisoned for all time in the midst of the most nauseating odour emanating from khir kund,” replied Ramdas.

“True, that is also my opinion,” he said laughing.

One evening, a short time before the day fixed for starting on the pilgrimage to Amarnath, Janakinath said to Ramdas:

“Swamiji, I wish so much I could accompany you on the pilgrimage to Amarnath, but God’s will is different. My new appointment does not admit of my taking leave just at present. However, one of my relations with his family intends going. He will have a tent of his own. I have requested him to include you and Ramcharandas in his party and he has agreed. I am also arranging for warm clothing for you both’”

The day of the departure came. It was to be on the morrow. The previous evening Janakinath met Ramdas with a downcast face, his heart sorely disturbed. The fact was, his relation had turned turtle at almost the last hour with regard to taking Ramdas with him to Amarnath, and had sent word to that effect. Hence the dejection on the face of the friend.

“Swamiji,” he said, “it appears to be the will of God that you should not go to Amarnath; else my relation would not have withdrawn his promise at the last minute.”

At this Ramdas drew himself up, and his body stiffened with a grim determination.

“Ramji,” Ramdas replied in a firm and measured tone, looking directly into the eyes of Janakinath, “do you think that Ramdas proposed to start on the journey to Amarnath depending on your relation? God, whose servant and child he is, had put the idea into his head and it is His duty to see that it is fulfilled. There is nothing impossible for the Lord. He will yet see that Ramdas is safely led to the shrine of Amarnath.”

Now Janakinath, who was observing the mood in which Ramdas was and the force with which he spoke, calmly replied:

“Well, Swamiji, I am mistaken. Surely there could be no obstacle for you when you have resolved upon doing a thing.” The subject was then dropped.

On the banks of the Jhelum there is a temple of Shiva, only about fifty yards from Janakinath’s house. The pujari of the temple, Tarachand Bayu, a young man who had great love and regard for Ramdas, used to visit Janakinath’s house to see and have talks with him. Some of the old type pandits can understand Hindi and also talk in that language with a mixture of Urdu words. Ramdas mostly talked in Hindi with the ladies and pandits who were not English educated. Tarachand Bayu would take Ramdas to his temple for bath in the river. Many an evening he had spent in the shrine listening to the reading of Yoga Vasishta in Hindi and attending the evening puja in the temple, when Sanskrit slokas and mantras were sung in chorus by a dozen devotees who would be present at the time of worship.

On the morning of the day when Ramdas had to start on the pilgrimage to Amarnath, Tarachand Bayu dropped in and escorted him to the temple. Ramcharandas was also with him. After bath Ramdas sat in front of the image on an asan provided by the pujari. The time might have been about eight o’clock. A young pandit, who was a perfect stranger to Ramdas, entered the temple in haste. He had come on a bicycle and inquired for Ramdas. The pujari brought the pandit into the presence of Ramdas.

“Swamiji,” the young man said to Ramdas, “my father is making ready for the trip to Amarnath. He wishes to take you also with him. Kindly come with me. He is awaiting your arrival at home.”

Strange are the ways of God! Here is a pandit utterly unknown to Ramdas voluntarily proposing to have him as his companion on the trip. He followed the young guide, and told him that he would have to see Janakinath first and inform him of his intended departure. So they went to Janakinath’s house and apprised the friend of the arrangement made by God for the pilgrimage. Janakinath, on hearing of it, was spell-bound. Until then it had seemed that there was not the least chance of Ramdas’ leaving that day. The mysterious and sudden way in which God brought about circumstances that favoured his going struck Janakinath as purely the work of Providence. The Lord after all did not will that Ramdas should abandon the idea. Ramdas for his part was absolutely confident that he would go on the pilgrimage.

The warm dress intended for Ramdas and Ramcharandas was still with the tailor unfinished. A woollen cap and double-breast jacket were intended for Ramdas and a long cloak of the same material for Ramcharandas. Ramdas did not care for the clothes. He felt God’s command had come and it was his to obey at any cost. So with two small pieces of khaddar cloth he started. It was decided that Ramcharandas should start on the following day with the woollen dress and meet Ramdas at Mattan or Martand, the first stage in the journey where there would be a halt for two days. Ramdas duly reached the pilgrim pandit’s house where he had his meal. The pandit was an elderly man, tall and strongly built. By twelve o’clock they got into a motor-bus which carried them by evening to Mattan.