← In the Vision of GodHis autobiography, book two

CHAPTER XLVII

Rawalpindi – Kasaragod

Ramdas on the day fixed, departed from Kasaragod again for Northern India with Janardan Pant. Reaching Madras and again staying with Dr. G. S. Katre for a day, they entrained for Nagpur. At Nagpur they remained for two days with Kalle Sadashivrao. Then travelling further north they arrived once more at Jhansi. This time he stayed here for about ten days. Here he met also Swami Nirbhayanand and Purnanand.

On the due date Ramdas departed with Janardan Pant straight for Rawalpindi. In Rawalpindi he was as usual put up at Pandit Jewandas’ residence. His halt was short. He was eager to finish off the Kashmir trip and then, on return, spend a few days in Rawalpindi. So in three or four days he and Janardan Pant found themselves under the hospitable roof of Pandit Janakinath. Janakinath and his family were as before all love and kindness. Pandit Amarnath was also there at the time. His stay in Srinagar this time was only for ten days. Here a word about Janardan Pant would not be out of place. He expected that by keeping company with Ramdas he would have a happy time of it, but his experience was quite the reverse. His ignorance of the English language was for him a great handicap. Ramdas conversed with the friends, at every place he visited, in English. Besides, being nurtured and bred in the orthodox atmosphere, Janardan Pant found the ways of the people, in the midst of whom he was forced to live, strangely unpalatable. He had come to Srinagar expecting to see in that land of Pandits an ideal state of things. But his disillusionment must have been shocking. The stinking air of the city and the ill-ventilated mud houses of the Pandits, and the meat eating and untidy habits of the people were things he had not bargained for. When visiting the Shalimar and Nishad gardens the party had to pass through a canal on a canoe manned by Muhammadans. The nauseating stench of the canal was too much for Pant. Ramdas could very well make out when he noticed the facial contortions of Pant, while he was sniffing at the trying odour of the canal that he must have been deeply repenting the false step he took in coming to Srinagar. To top it all, when Ramdas proposed to the Pandits after a week’s stay that he must be permitted to leave Srinagar shortly, they all but tore Pant to pieces, presuming that he was at the bottom of Ramdas’ early departure from their midst.

Before leaving the place, Ramdas and Pant remained with Shambhunath for a few days. One night Janakinath came here to see Ramdas. He took him out for a walk to a maidan close by. As they walked, Janakinath had a long talk with him. The gist of it was that Ramdas by a mere wish should bring him face to face with God. If self-surrender was the goal he should see that Janakinath attained it by a mere blessing from him. In reply Ramdas made him understand: “Self-surrender is a task mainly resting upon the efforts of the sadhaka or the devotee. God wants us to be conscious instruments in His hands. God’s grace alights on the devotee when he has acquired the necessary qualifications for it.”

Janakinath would not agree. He stated that he was perfectly weak and powerless and could not do the necessary sadhana for bringing about the needed surrender. Everything must be done for him by God Himself. If there was to be surrender, God alone should see that He provided him with the conditions for such a surrender. In short, he looked to God to shower on him all that was best that lay in His power to grant. To this Ramdas said: “Since you know the truth that God alone is the real power and the only power that should mould your life, bringing about a divine transformation, then where is the question of attaining self-surrender? You have already realised the Truth. Your worry and fretfulness have no significance. In so far as you are manifesting these feelings, Ramdas takes it that you do so for mere play.”

He would not be convinced. The talk went on till late in the night. It appeared, after all, that Janakinath meant by his talk nothing more than a loving pastime.

When the appointed day arrived Ramdas left the hills of Srinagar for the plains. Of course he came down to Rawalpindi again. Here again he met Swami Anand Swarup who dwelt in a solitary house removed from the city. Ramdas was paying him visits every evening, and at his rooms devotees of all sects would assemble to listen to his talks.

One day a Sikh devotee who was greatly taken up with Ramdas – a daily visitor – read out a few verses from Guru Arjun Singh’s Sukhmani, and explained the meaning to the assembled party. Guru Arjun Singh has propounded that man comes by the highest beatitude of life, viz. spiritual illumination, only through the grace of saints. He held that no sadhana or tapasya, even of the most severe type, could entitle the sadhaka to the attainment of this supreme state. The saint chooses to throw the light of his grace on any man who comes in touch with him and that instant the fortunate soul attains moksha. There is no such condition as fitness or otherwise of the aspirant to receive or not to receive the saint’s grace. He rightly contends that if divine grace depended upon the condition of the aspirant, it cannot be all-powerful. Since it is all-powerful, no qualification of any kind for an aspirant is necessary for the reception of the divine grace. He concluded that the absolute power of grace rests entirely with the saint. Whomsoever he chooses, he elevates, blesses and liberates. This is the incontrovertible law of grace.

Another time, at the request of some friends, he went for the darshan of a sannyasi, residing in the house of one of them. A party consisting of Swami Anand Swarup, Jewandas and two or three others, visited the house. The sannyasi was all humility and treated Ramdas with great kindness and love. Ramdas seated himself beside him and the other friends also did the same. In the course of conversation the saint, who appeared to have a large number of disciples in Rawalpindi and other places, and whose practice of yoga was the Raja yoga of Patanjali, put to Ramdas the question: “What do you prescribe as the best method for control of mind?”

Ramdas replied: “So far as his experience goes he can assert that the continuous repetition of the divine Name can easily produce concentration of mind.”

“Before I proceed to express my opinion on the solution you have offered, I will lay before you a bit of my own experience,” the sannyasi continued, “I have been for many years struggling hard to bring under subjection the restless activity of the mind. I have adopted the method of ashtanga yoga. I regulated my food according to the strict rules of satwic diet. For some months I lived all alone on the banks of Ganges far beyond Rishikesh. I worked on at the practice systematically throughout the period of my stay there. Even with all my strenuous endeavours I found I could not attain any measure of concentration. I then felt so depressed, despaired of success and disgusted with life, that I thought of committing suicide by jumping into the river. Somehow I resisted this impulse and I am here with this question which sorely troubles me day and night. But I fail to see that the method prescribed by you can be of any avail. I do not believe in it. This is my candid and considered opinion.”

To this Ramdas said: “Swamiji, you seem to be quite arbitrary in rejecting a method which Ramdas holds forth as most conducive to attaining concentration without your giving a fair trial to it. Ramdas spoke to you about the power of the divine Name not from mere hearsay or taking the hint from books. You may depend upon it he speaks upon this subject on the authority of his own experience. Since you desired to know, Ramdas gave his solution to your problem.”

“I have no faith in the path of bhakti,” he replied. “I do not believe in sentimental religion. I have no patience with those who say that devotion and taking of the Lord’s Name leads one to God-realisation. I have not found the path for myself, but I know bhakti is not the way.”

When the sannyasi came to this definite and final conclusion, Swami Anand Swarup, who was so long calmly listening to the dialogue, was roused at the closing words of the sadhu. In an indignant tone he rated the sannyasi as follows:

“Then what business had you to raise the question at all? Having raised it in the spirit of a learner you ought to have accepted the advice couched in the reply. You are combating it without possessing the least knowledge of the matter. Swamiji has conclusively solved your problem. It is of course for you to take it or not, but you should not have peremptorily condemned it. You are asked to give a trial to the method placed before you. However that be, it is clear from your own confession that you have woefully failed in the path chosen by you. Still the wonder is that you pose yourself as a guru and canvass a number of disciples. What are you going to teach them? Evidently to drown themselves in the Ganges river! Why do you impose yourself upon harmless people and, living in their houses, feed upon them? You are strong enough to work for your food. Divest yourself of the misleading ochre-robes that you have donned to fool the world. Be honest and remain true to yourself and save thereby many a gullible soul from being led on a path which will take them nowhere. This is my advice to you. Follow it and be wise.”

The sannyasi, whom Ramdas was watching when Swami Anand Swarup was taking him to task, had all the time his face lit up with a self-complacent smile. He was unruffled and cool as a cucumber. Turning towards Swami Anand Swarup, in a low, gentle and modulated voice, he spoke:

“Swamiji, the irritable nature that you have exhibited does not become your garb. You have unnecessarily wasted a good deal of your precious energy in the ebullition of anger. I am a humble soul and you are a great mahatma. I am not sorry for myself, but I regret that I became an unintentional cause of the violence you did to yourself.”

After this there was a lull and, the meeting having terminated, Ramdas stepped out of the house with the other friends. The sannyasi came out on the road to bid the party farewell and Ramdas could not resist clasping him in a fond embrace, at which Swami Anand Swarup must have been not a little surprised.

Another day, at the combined wish of the devout mothers of the city, he delivered a discourse on Krishna Prem in a religious institution. There were over two hundred ladies present on the occasion and it was purely a ladies’ gathering. He spoke in Hindi for about one hour. He poured himself out in a stream of ecstasy on the sublime nature of Love. He brought out many telling incidents in the life of Lord Krishna wherein the Lord’s love for his devotees was revealed in all its magnificent glory. He concluded with the peroration that Lord Krishna was the very personification of infinite love, light and joy.

The mothers, who listened to his discourse with rapt attention, were supremely happy. They were the votaries of Lord Krishna who was their life, soul and everything. Blessed mothers, may you ever be inebriated with the magic spell of Lord Krishna’s Name and Love!

The discourse over, he returned to Jewandas’ house. He was seated on the terrace of the building. He heard from there a spirited talk going on at the entrance of the house below. It ceased, and a friend apprised him about the persons engaged in the talk at the entrance. It appeared two members of the detective police attended Ramdas’ discourse that day and followed him up to Jewandas’ house. The fact was, Ramdas was wearing a khadi cloth and Janardan Pant, besides being dressed in khadi, was also wearing a khadi white cap. The detectives thought that Ramdas was a politician in the garb of a sannyasi. Since they found nothing incriminatory in his discourse they came as far as the house to inquire after his antecedents, mission, etc. They went away after receiving satisfactory information from Jewandas’ wife.

In the course of his stay in the Punjab he was taken by Jewandas on a short trip to his native village Hazro, where Ramdas came in contact with many devotees of the place, including a Muslim holding broad views. Here he cannot fail to mention that he received kindness and hospitality from many devotees in Rawalpindi at their houses, of whom Gurudas Ram and a Sikh Sardar were two.

Soon after he returned to Rawalpindi, he departed for Agra. In due time he reached Agra where again he and Janardan Pant were lodged in the outhouse of the temple. During this stay Ramdas gave a discourse in the vaishya boarding house. The young men of the house put him various questions and he elucidated their difficulties, drawing upon his own life and experience. They were all of good cheer and treated him with great love.

Among the friends who paid him visits in the temple were two from Etawah, Suraj Narayan and Hridaya Narayan. They took him with them on a visit to Etawah where they accommodated him in the local Theosophical Lodge. Many friends of this place, here as well, crowded at the lodge in the evenings to listen to his discourses. He had, as in other places, a blissful time of it.

From here he was escorted by Hridaya Narayan to Mainpuri where his parents lived. He was welcomed with great joy by all the members of the household and he spent a delightful night in their pure and loving company. Dharm Narayan, father of Hridaya Narayan, was a great and noble soul, and his talented sons had inherited the sterling qualities of the father. Again returning to Etawah, he and Janardan Pant left the city straight for Dhanbad, passing on the way Benares and Allahabad.

At Dhanbad the Gujarati friend, Ratilal, was awaiting his arrival at the station. Ratilal lived far in the interior in Katrasgarh, a noted coal mine district in Bengal. The party with Ratilal motored from the station to Katrasgarh. Ramdas remained here for about a week. At this time he availed himself of the opportunity of visiting the coal mines. A small occurrence at this place deserves notice. The time was when picketing was the rage. Young school-boys were taking keen interest and active part in this movement. A lad of the house proved to be an intrepid picket. It appeared he was arrested by the police for picketing a liquor shop. As is customary the policeman questioned him:

“Who is your father?”

“Mahatma Gandhi.”

“Where is your home?” was the policeman’s next question.

“Jail,” was the prompt reply of the boy.

At this, the boy was set free and sent home.

After a week’s stay in Katrasgarh he and Janardan Pant proceeded to Calcutta where they stopped with Parab and B.S. Rao. These two friends divided between them the earlier part of his stay in Calcutta, since they lived in the same building. At nights on Saturdays these friends with some others of their society would repair to the terrace of the building and spend the whole night awake in their own mode of meditation and spiritual discourses in which Ramdas once joined them. Both the friends were overflowing in their kindness to these itinerant guests.

Then he with Janardan Pant spent a few days with P. Shivshankerrao at whose house Janardan Pant performed a harikatha, largely attended by the interested public of the place. Another harikatha performance was also arranged in a bhajan mandir belonging to the resident Maharashtra community of the city. Here Janardan Pant had for his subject Sri Samarth Ramdas and Shivaji. In the course of his discourse his fiery nationalist spirit, which had been from a long time suppressed after coming into close contact with Ramdas, was roused. He spoke with great vehemence about the fallen condition of India and passed a scathing judgement upon those whom he held responsible for it. For some time past, after he severed his connection with political activities in which he was engaged when Ramdas first met him he was mainly a religious preacher. The people assembled for his kirtan were not prepared for this digression on his part at which they must have been not a little perturbed. Realizing the situation Janardan Pant returned at once to the main theme of the performance. Ramdas’ stay in Calcutta continued for about ten days during which he received nothing but kindness and love from all friends of the place.

The next move was directly for Madras, and after a couple of days’ journey by railway they reached the city for the third time. On this occasion the stay with Dr. G.S. Katre extended over a week. Here also Janardan Pant had an opportunity to perform a kirtan at the request of the friends of that city.

From Madras they travelled to Kumbakonam. Savoor Shanker Rao, the friend who has so kindly written an introduction to this book, had come to Madras to take him over to his place. Savoor Shanker Rao is a vastly learned man. In his spacious bungalow, of which the big drawing room was his library, where he had a very fine collection of books dealing with philosophy, religion and general literature, Ramdas spent a week most bliss-fully. His wife, a simple, child-like and noble soul, joined heartily with her husband in the bhajan that was held in the evenings. Ramdas hardly moved out of the house. Some professors of the college, of which Savoor Shanker Rao was the then principal, came to see Ramdas and had talks with him. Here Janardan Pant, whose leave had by now expired, separated from him and returned to join his duties at Narkhed.

Ramdas’ next place of visit was Ernakulam. Here he spent a few days, in the company of P. Sanjivrao and many other friends of the place and then left for Kasaragod again. Of course, he occupied once more Anandashram, situated in that calm retreat beyond the hills.

The usual routine of ashram life restarted. Krishna Bai paid her daily visits and did her selfless service in the ashram. A week after his arrival, Krishna Bai’s brother-in-law, having returned from Europe, came to Kasaragod to take over his family and Krishna Bai and her children to Dharwad. Really, it was a wrench for Krishna Bai so suddenly to tear herself off from her association with Ramdas and the ashram. At his request, she however departed with her brother-in-law and others.

Before proceeding to narrate the events that followed, it is necessary that a word should be said relating to the intense life of self-sacrifice Krishna Bai led during his all-India tour. Gurudev was bed-ridden and Rukmabai, owing to her severe attacks of asthma, was also in a similar condition. In those days Krishna Bai’s life was mainly spent in attending on the patients. As a nurse at the bedside of a sick person she can be said to be rarely equalled. She would give herself away to such service heart and soul. She tended both the patients a thousand times more tenderly and carefully than their own mothers would have. For that matter, her entire life is an oblation to selfless service of all, irrespective of condition, person, time or place.

With regard to the service rendered to the above mentioned patients, Ramdas heard from their own lips their deeply grateful and loving words of thanks to her and praise of Krishna Bai’s divine nature.

Another fact which cannot go unnoticed is that Gunda, a great selfless devotee, true to Ramdas’ request, remained in the ashram mostly alone, all the time that Ramdas was away from it. He now became Ramdas’ whole time attendant. After returning from the tour Ramdas scarcely left the ashram for the town, and gradually the number of visitors also dwindled away, until for the last few months of his stay, he was singularly alone in the ashram except for this loving and faithful friend.

About two months having thus passed, under peculiar conditions which are not worth-while narrating here in detail, as bid by Ram, Ramdas went on a month’s fast and a vow of silence. Of course, he was living on a moderate diet of milk. About this time he also got an anonymous letter threatening his life, if he did not abandon the ashram at once. A fortnight after the beginning of the fast, Vidyacharya, a friend from Sholapur, came down to see him. Vidyacharya was naturally disappointed that he could not freely discourse with Ramdas. Also he was much pained at the scanty diet on which Ramdas was then living. One night, it might have been between eight and nine o’clock, Ramdas, Vidyacharya and Gunda were sitting on the outer verandah with a lantern burning in their midst. Vidyacharya and Gunda were deeply absorbed in singing devotional songs. Suddenly, without any notice, Krishna Bai made her appearance. Ramdas wrote on a slip of paper and showed it to her: “After all, you have come,” and also enquired in it if she came alone. He also wrote in the note: “Mother, you have come to your own home. The ashram shall in future be your permanent place of residence.”

Most of the way from Bombay, where she had gone from Dharwad, she had travelled alone with a single cloth and nothing besides. Thereafter, she stayed in the ashram day and night. Vidyacharya left and Gunda also went to Puttur, his native village, for a change.

Under instructions from Ramdas, Krishna Bai now started on a course of steady and continuous discipline in meditation and asana. On his advice she also visited every day four or five houses of devotees in the town where she gave the benefit of her presence and service to the devout ladies of the household. Meanwhile his fast for one month came to a close, but as he was not satisfied with it, he went on a further fast for three days, taking only water. Then again, he proposed to go even without water. This last absolute fast was observed only for one day and he had to break it due to the most pathetic appeal from Chandrasekharrao, Ramabai’s spouse. Thenceforth he came to his old diet of one meal a day. Now Ramdas and Krishna Bai used to be alone in the ashram in the nights.

A fortnight after the breaking of the fast, when Ramdas was busy taking a fair copy of the earlier chapters of this book, and Krishna Bai sitting as usual in her posture of meditation on the verandah where she slept for the night, a man of a coarse appearance but of strong build, belonging to the working class turned up, with a lantern in hand. The time must have been about 10 p.m. Ramdas came out leaving his work and enquired of the visitor what he wanted. He replied: “Some friends possibly from a distant place have arrived at the bungalow on the top of the hill and have sent word through me to ask you to go there to meet them.”

Ramdas’ heart, when he heard this, overflowed with love and he said within himself: “At what a great sacrifice these friends must have come from a long distance out of their pure longing and love for Ramdas.” At once he made up his mind to go up to them. The messenger said that he would remain in the ashram until Ramdas returned. Taking the lantern of the ashram he started asking Krishna Bai to wait until he returned with the friends, but she said she would also like to go with him. The sturdy messenger also falling in with Krishna Bai’s idea said that she might also accompany him. So both walked quickly up the hill and reached the traveller’s bungalow, but to their surprise and discomposure they found that there was nobody waiting for them in the bungalow. Ramdas at once scented some mischief, for, the messenger had deliberately remained behind in the ashram during their absence.

Now both quickly retraced their steps to the ashram. On reaching the place they found that the messenger with his lantern had disappeared. On going up the verandah they further saw a quantity of nightsoil splashed at the entrance of the room and a number of pieces of a broken earthen pot. This was the work of the nocturnal visitor for discharging which alone he must have come. Without feeling the least repugnance or disgust Krishna Bai at once fell to the task of cleaning the floor. She cleaned the floor actually with her hands while collecting the rubbish from which was issuing a most revolting stench. Within half-an-hour the place was swept and washed. The beauty of the whole thing was that all the while, when she was engaged in this work, she was patient, cheerful and smiling. Ramdas, on entering the room, found a brass spittoon which was daily used by him had alone been taken away, and a few drops of the nightsoil had disfigured the manuscript of this narrative. The night passed without anything further happening.

Again after a week or thereabouts, at almost the same hour of the night, two men came to the ashram of whom one was the previous visitor. It was a dark night. The ashram was so situated in a dense jungle that within two furlongs around it, there was no other habitation. This time the visitors appeared to have come with a sterner mission. For the first few minutes they demanded of Ramdas many articles that were in the ashram including a framed board containing the name ‘Anandashram’ artistically formed in glass beads. He handed over these things to the visitors without any hesitation, and asked them if they wanted anything more. When this business was going on, he was standing just at the entrance of the room on the verandah and Krishna Bai was beside him. The lamp was on the raised pedestal on which he usually sat, to the right side of the entrance. As soon as the visitors thought that the time for carrying out their intention had arrived, one of them took the lantern and with a sweep sent it flying into the court-yard, by which act the lantern broke and was suddenly extinguished. Now they found themselves in utter darkness. The man, who threw away the lantern, rushing up towards Krishna Bai fell upon her. Beside her was a copper pot filled with water. Ramdas was at the time a little away from the front door. Realizing the situation he closed his arms upon the body of the man who was attacking Krishna Bai, with the object of preventing him from doing harm to her, but the other man who was watching the situation pulled Ramdas from behind with all his strength, making him give up the hold on the other man, and held him tight within his arms. Ramdas’ whole body thrilled and he in a loud voice uttered the Name “Ram” three times. Simultaneously as it were, the Name “Ram” issued twice from Krishna Bai’s lips. At the sound of this Name, the man who had well-nigh clutched Krishna Bai’s throat to strangle her, let go his hands and started like a scared creature to run away from the place. Beholding him taking to his heels, the other man, who was holding Ramdas in a tight embrace, set him free and jumping down the verandah followed suit. When leaving Krishna Bai the man who attacked her pushed her down, causing the small of her back to strike with great force upon the hard rim of the copper vessel, and the next instant she rolled down the verandah to the surrounding yard of the ashram. In the dark, by taking her name aloud, Ramdas located the place where she fell. He ran up to her and they stood together, Ramdas exclaiming: “Oh! Ram, what is this you are doing?” Then Krishna Bai said: “Nothing is the matter. Don’t accuse Ram, everything is all right.”

Beyond the fields, on the right side of the ashram, there was the house of a cultivator who must have been observing from his front-yard the strange happenings at the ashram. When he heard the sound “Ram” “Ram” in a loud key from Ramdas and the sudden darkness that enveloped the ashram, he suspected some mischief and came running. It took him about five minutes to pass through the fields in the dark and reach the ashram. But the grim visitors of the night had fled away. With the help of a match they lit a torch made of palm leaves. On his enquiry Ramdas related to him all that had happened. He said: “I shall sleep here tonight and see how those blackguards will dare to molest you again.”

For the night it was all right. What about the future nights? Turning to Krishna Bai Ramdas appealed to her not to remain in the ashram in the nights from next day onwards. He would prefer to be alone in it. But she would not agree, “Whatever happens to me I will not stay away for the nights.” Seeing that she was determined and persuasion was futile, Ramdas at once made up his mind to leave the ashram for good and get out of the place. Instantly he started with Krishna Bai for the town, and the cultivator friend, who was also joined by another, accompanied them as far as Chandrashekarrao’s house, situated in the heart of the town. When Ramdas was walking fast towards the town closely followed by Krishna Bai, she appealed to him in a piteous tone: “Papa, what are your future plans?” He replied that he did not know.

“It is Ram’s command to leave Kasaragod at the earliest opportunity. He will go wherever Ram leads him.” He said.

To this she said: “Please do not abandon me. I have no place and no refuge except you. Permit me to follow you wherever you go.”

“No, no. Do not think of doing so,” Ramdas replied.

In a rising emotion she waylaid him, appealed again and insisted upon his giving the word. He yielded and agreed. They reached Chandrashekarrao’s house. Thus ended the memorable events of this night.

As was natural, the household was shocked to hear of the dreadful situation through which Ramdas and Krishna Bai had passed at the ashram. The fall on the water pot had caused permanent injury to the lower end of Krishna Bai’s spinal cord. In spite of the excruciating pain, she was patient and cheerful as if nothing had happened to her. His resolution was made that he should leave Kasaragod the very next day. The night passed. By the earliest train on the following day he and Krishna Bai with Chandrashekarrao came to Hosdurg. In Hosdurg there were some mothers who were keenly anxious to have him at their house for some days. To fulfil their long cherished desire, on alighting at the Kanhangad station he directed his steps straight to their house. The party was received by the kind mothers with great joy. His future plans were unsettled.