Srinagar – Rawalpindi – Amritsar

(i) A Perilous Venture

From Bhai Vir Singh’s kuti Ramdas was escorted by Shambunath to his house in Amirakadal, in the main bazaar of Srinagar. Shambunath’s father, mother and other relations treated him with great kindness and love. He stopped with them for about a fortnight. In the course of his stay he expressed to Shambunath that God willed that he should climb up the highest mountain in the range in the front of the cave on Sri Shankaracharya hill. The idea of hill-climbing appealed to Shambunath’s imagination. He also proposed to accompany Ramdas on the trip.

So one early morning, they started on the adventure. Shambunath armed himself with a thermos-flask filled with tea and also a small bag containing biscuits, bread, butter and fruits. As far as the foot of the hill they travelled by motor-car. Now they commenced the ascent. They took a path along the greatest incline and ascended higher and higher keeping in view the peak they had to reach. From the ground level the summit did not appear to be of very great height but now, as they went up, they discovered that the summit seemed to be as high up as ever. Seven hills, one after another, were passed and at last they came to the bottom of the peak they had ultimately to reach.

Up to the end of the fourth hill they walked on a rough beaten path but further on there was no track. They had to make their way through thickets and gorges and over rugged rocks. Except a couple of jackals, who took to flight at the sight of them, they met no other animals. Now the highest peak to be climbed had to be scaled either spirally, an easier method, or right up vertically. Ramdas adopted the latter course. He scrambled up using the dense growth of brown grass as hand-hold, followed by Shambunath. When they went about half-way up the slope, Ramdas came upon a small smooth rock to which he lifted himself and perching on it saw the friend behind struggling to keep pace with him, his face flushed with excitement. A look down into the valley below discovered a rare and marvellous scene. From that dizzy height a wide and terribly deep chasm was yawning at their feet. As Shambunath neared, Ramdas could not help exclaiming:

“Ram, look below, what a magnificent scene!” When Shambunath turned his head to see for a moment he cried out helplessly: “Swamiji, I am gone, hold on-hold, I am slipping,” and he stretched forth his arms which Ramdas immediately grasped with both hands, and with a super-human strength pulled him up bodily on to the rock on which he was sitting. Shambunath now rested with eyes closed for about five minutes before he recovered from the faintness.

“Swamiji,” he then said, “please don’t ask me to look down again. A glimpse of the awe-inspiring and enormous depths turned me giddy, and but for you I should have rolled down the mountain to my sure destruction.”

They ascended higher still and steadily progressed through the tall grass that grew luxuriantly on the mountain, and at last arrived at the summit. The time was now about three o’clock in the afternoon. They sat down on the grass and leisurely took a view of Kashmir from that tremendous height. What Ramdas saw from there beggars description. It was the vision of the infinite expanse of space, the dim outlines of mountains looming in the distance and the extensive valley of Kashmir scintillating with its innumerable glassy lakes, relieved by vast areas of green verdure and vegetation.

Shambunath was cheerful and lively although tired. He opened the screw cap of the thermos and the bag of eatables, and they both did hearty justice to the hard-earned tiffin. They rested for about half-an-hour. Shambunath now suggested that they should make haste for their return journey since they had to reach down before dark. It was proposed that they should descend by a different way, especially by a slope which looked tempting, as it appeared to be one which could take them to the bottom easily and in a short time.

They then quickly descended the incline and came to the brink of a precipice which shut off their further progress downwards. They turned to another adjoining slope of the mountain and climbed down only to meet with a similar precipice. They turned to a third direction where they helped themselves down by holding on to the branches of trees that grew densely. Still their path was cut off by yet another vertical cliff. Here Ramdas, seeing some roots projecting out on the wall of the cliff, attempted to go down by their aid, when Shambunath intervened and said:

“Swamiji, I cannot follow you that way. Do give up the path.”

Ramdas had to abandon the attempt. By this time, evening was fast approaching beckoning the night, clothed in her dark mantle. Ramdas and the friend rested for some minutes beneath the trees.

“Swamiji, suppose we can’t find the way down the hill, what are we to do?” questioned Shambunath.

“Why, of course, we shall stop here for the night,” replied Ramdas.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “I cannot do that in this horrible place. I am afraid of wild animals. It is time for them to come out of their lairs. Swamiji, let us try to find out the old way by which we came up.”

But the way by which they had ascended was also lost. They were caught in the perplexing undulations of the vast chain of mountains. They roamed up and down in search of the old path for over half-an-hour but without success; and all the while, Shambunath was growing excited and anxious. At last they found themselves on the rough beaten path. When he saw it Shambunath’s joy knew no bounds. With uncontrollable delight he leapt and danced, and burst out saying:

“Swamiji, you are indeed my God. You have brought me to the path. Let us hurry up.”

Now Shambunath raced down the path like a horse at full gallop. He took perilous jumps on the way. He was reckless and wild. Ramdas ran close behind him. The sun had set. Darkness was steadily encroaching upon the twilight. When they neared the base of the mountains they swerved to their left and came upon some old ruins, where they rested for five minutes and then went down to the road near a famous spring of Kashmir called Chashma Shahi. They proceeded to the spring and drank their fill. The water of this spring is reputed to possess marvellous medicinal and healing properties. Rich people and invalids arrange to have this water for drinking purposes.

Now they retraced their steps to the city. Half-way they met Shambunath’s motor-car which was coming to fetch them. They jumped into it and by half-past-seven reached Shambunath’s residence.

(ii) God’s Will Be Done

Another day Ramdas visited Achabal, one of the most frequented beauty spots of Kashmir, noted for its small but finely cultured garden and spring. He was accompanied by Shambunath and his father. When they were about to leave the garden, Ramdas met a sannyasi belonging to Sri Ramakrishna Mission and had a few minutes’ talk with him.

Ramdas had also a pleasure trip arranged by Shambunath by boat at the far end of the Jhelum river. Besides Ramdas and a Sikh merchant, there were in the boat a German, an Agent for light machinery, and his two young, lively daughters. The German was making a new experiment in the working of a small motor-engine fixed to the boat. The boat now raced on the water at a brisk speed. The girls were in great glee. They giggled and laughed. The German conceived an affection for Ramdas. He said that he held Indian yogis in high regard. He talked freely with Ramdas on all matters. They went through ten miles on the river and had a halt at a cool spot for an hour where they enjoyed a pleasant picnic and a bath in the river. At parting on their return, the German friend expressed a desire to see Ramdas again in Bombay where he would be going shortly, if ever Ramdas visited the city in the near future. He handed to Ramdas his card containing his Bombay address which Ramdas preserved.

From Shambunath’s house Ramdas, at the request of Durgadas, shifted to his spacious residence and stayed with him again for about a week. Now Ramdas had many a talk with Durgadas. Ramdas found him a learned and well-informed man. He possessed a clear head and a vast store of knowledge. He could talk on every conceivable subject. To converse with him generally was to enjoy an intellectual feast. He spoke on philosophy and religion with as much ease as he did on other topics. He was a great admirer of Kabir and his works. One day he read out original poems of Kabir treating of the highest philosophy, and Durgadas, who was a master in Hindi, expounded them to Ramdas. He explained the meaning, entering into the spirit of the sublime teachings.

One afternoon, in the society of his son-in-law, Bhavanishankerrao who had newly come from Bombay with his daughter, Ramdas had a drive in his motor-car to Verinag, a place about fifty miles from Srinagar. Verinag, like other beauty spots in Kashmir, offered a very charming view. It was a solitary spot over the hills fully shaded with trees and watered with numerous springs. At two spots Ramdas saw natural springs oozing out of the ground like fountains. The party remained here for an hour or two and returned to Srinagar before evening.

Again another day, by motor-car, these friends took Ramdas to Mattan for visiting the narrow cave on the hills.

Bhavanishankerrao was to start for Bombay as he had come to Kashmir during his summer vacation which was coming to a close. Ramdas proposed to accompany him. But Durgadas, out of his great love, intervened. He appealed to Ramdas to remain with him for some time more. His two children, Uddhav and Kabir, also joined him. But Ramdas was determined. He was to leave on the morrow. Seats for two were arranged in a motor-bus running to Rawalpindi. In the morning on the day fixed for departure, a message came by telephone to say that the seats booked were otherwise filled up and that there were no spare seats in other buses also for the day. Now, Bhavanishanker, who had to be present in Bombay on a particular date to attend his examination, was greatly upset by the news. For, he could reach Bombay in time only if he started on the day fixed. Now Durgadas coming to Ramdas said:

“Ramdas, it is Ram’s will that you should not go. You must stay with me for at least a month more. So He has upset your plan of departure. We shall find a seat somehow for Bhavanishanker, but for you there would be no seat available which means that you are to stay behind.”

“Ram’s will be done,” Ramdas simply replied.

In five minutes, another telephone message came to the effect that two seats were arranged in another bus.

“I must confess that your Ram is wonderful,” Durgadas exclaimed.

“When He wills, nothing can stand in His way of fulfilling His object. His will is supreme,” Ramdas said.

Ramdas therefore took leave of the loving household and seated himself by the side of Bhavanishanker, in a bus, which tore along the mountain path to Rawalpindi.

(iii) Association Makes Character

For the night they made a halt at Domel in the travellers’ bungalow, and continued their journey next morning. All the way Ramdas enjoyed the lavish splendour of entrancing landscapes, the sound of the waterfalls and the pure springs of crystalline water. Long before sunset they reached Rawalpindi. Jewandas, the friend who had met Ramdas on his journey to Jwalajee and had treated him with such great kindness, was informed by wire of Ramdas’ coming. But he could not, in spite of his efforts, meet Ramdas at the motor-stand. So taking leave of Bhavanishankerrao, who was to start by the evening train for Bombay, Ramdas made enquiries for the house of Jewandas, whose address he knew, and presented himself at the door of his small dwelling. Jewandas’ wife, as soon as she saw Ramdas, invited him with great joy to their house and making him sit on a cot, fell to pressing his legs. Soon after this Jewandas arrived. The joy of the blessed pair to have Ramdas with them knew no bounds. Their little son was also greatly delighted.

Devout mothers of the neighbourhood poured in to see him in large numbers morning and evening and Jewandas’ small house became crowded with visitors. In the evening he would be taken by the friends to a garden, away from the town precincts, where he would talk to them on devotion and the greatness of God’s Name. Once when he was on his way to the garden with a dozen friends, a passerby on the road, observing Ramdas clad in ochre-coloured cloth and in the company of householders, struck a note of warning:

“Beware, don’t teach them (referring to the friends) that the world is an illusion or you will lead them astray.”The cautious friend said as he walked off.

For Ramdas the world was no longer an illusion. He had come to look upon it as God’s own expression in form and movement. For him the world stood revealed as a gigantic image of God teeming with divine life.

Ramdas spent a week in Rawalpindi during which he enjoyed a couple of days in the society of K. Sadashivarao and his family.

The next place which he travelled to was Amritsar where Gopalrao, who was given intimation beforehand, came to receive him at the station. His wife, Girijabai, was away at her mother’s. He was alone with a man-servant at his house in the spacious compound of the Khalsa College.

Khalsa College is an institution mainly intended for the education of Sikhs. It consists of an imposing pile of buildings. There are hostels, vast structures for accommodating a thousand students. All the professors and teachers are also provided with residential quarters within the extensive grounds of the college which can be termed a colony, having also a Post office attached to it.

A special class for all boys is held every morning for imparting spiritual instruction, when they are made to sing prayers and listen to the reading and exposition of Granth Saheb, the Scripture of the Sikhs. There is a tank of pure flowing water in which the boys perform their morning ablutions.

Through the introduction of Gopalrao, Ramdas became acquainted with a few professors and teachers of the college who paid him frequent visits and invited him to dinner at their houses. All of them were Sikhs. The Sikhs are noble, industrious and kindly people. In the mornings and evenings, Gopalrao would take Ramdas on his motor-cycle to the city, to visit saint Bhai Vir Singh who had now returned to Amritsar from Kashmir. He was all kindness and love. In his house Ramdas met also an old saint, Vaddasantji who became in course of time quite enamoured of Ramdas. He would at three in the morning daily come to Gopalrao’s from a long distance to see Ramdas. He would embrace Ramdas and sit beside him with his hands clasped round Ramdas’ shoulders and would say:

“I am coming to inhale the sweet fragrance which you radiate. To be with you fills me with a blissful intoxication.” On one occasion Ramdas was sitting with the saints and a few devotees in Bhai Vir Singh’s worship room upstairs where the holy book Granth Saheb was being read by turns by the devotees. Now a man at the entrance downstairs sent a request to be admitted into the satsang. A consultation took place between Bhai Vir Singh and Vaddasantji, and they came to the decision that the man should not be admitted since he would create a disturbance, not being a pure-hearted man. Here Ramdas intervened and pleaded on behalf of the eager devotee.

“If you consider him impure,” Ramdas urged, “there is all the more reason that he should be admitted into your society. Satsang is the most potent power for purifying the heart of any one who comes under its influence. Do not deny the man this privilege since he seeks it of his own accord.” The saints at first refused to take Ramdas’ suggestion, but had to yield at last and the man was permitted to enter the room and sit beside them. The man stayed for a few minutes and then left. Saint Bhai Vir Singh then narrated a curious bit of his own experience to show how the society and influence of an evil-minded man produced disastrous results.

“Once a woman came to me,” he said, “in a distressed condition. She said that she had been of late subjected to attacks of splitting headache and wanted some remedy. When asked how the complaint started, she said that she was having it since she saw a wandering sadhu from whom she got the upadesh of a mantram. Ever since then, whenever she repeated the mantram, she would feel excruciating pains in the head. When I suggested to her to give up the repetition of the mantram she refused to do so, as she looked upon the sadhu as her guru. I prescribed abandoning the mantram as the only remedy but not agreeing with my suggestion she left. In a few days she came again and her condition was much worse than before. She was finding the pains quite unbearable. When again I asked her to stop the mantram, she replied that she tried to do so, but could not as the mantram appeared to have taken possession of her. Then I suggested to her as the only course for averting its influence, to express in strong language her repugnance for the sadhu and a resolve not to have anything to do with his mantram. She refused point-blank to follow this advice as she held the sadhu in great reverence. She again left.

“After a week she turned up for the third time. She was quite cheerful and free from the racking ailment. She confessed that during the previous week the torments of the headache grew so unbearable that she was obliged to follow my advice and make a firm resolution not to utter the mantram, and this resolution she made after abusing the sadhu and holding him up as a loathsome creature. Immediately afterwards she added, the headache ceased and with it the influence of the mantram. Ever since then she was feeling her old self again. So I consider that there is no greater evil in life than association with a man whose heart is filled with bestial passions. Such a man easily communicates his nature to impressionable people who are of an emotional and weak temperament. And by the same rule, no society is so beneficial for our elevation and peace as that of a man of a noble character and pure heart.”