CHAPTER II.
MASTER AND DISCIPLE.
A couple of days after, at about eight in the morning, M. called again.
The Master is going to be shaved by the barber. The winter cold is still lingering and he has on a moleskin shawl hemmed with red muslin. On seeing M., the Master says, Well, you are come. Very good. Take your seat here.
1 Samâdhi.
2 Sandhyâ.
It was on the southern verandah leading to his room that the meeting took place.
Seated before the barber he had a pair of slippers on and the shawl described above.
He talks to M. while the barber is attending to him. His face is, as usual, smiling. Only he stammers a little, while talking.
Master (to M.):—Where is your home?
M:—In Calcutta, Sir.
Master:—With whom have you been staying here at Barahanagar?
M:—With my sister, Sir, at Ishan Kaviraja's house.
Master:—At Ishan's? O, I see.
Keshab Chandra Sen.
Do you know how Keshab is doing at present? I heard he was seriously ill.
M:—Yes, Sir, I too heard the same. I trust by this time he is doing well.
Master:—I made a vow to offer gifts—green cocoanuts and sugar—to the Divine Mother for Keshab's recovery. I would sometimes wake up in the middle of my sleep at night and cry out, O Mother, grant that Keshab may get well. If Keshab does not live, whom shall I talk with, Mother, when I go to Calcutta?
Do you know that one Mr. Cook has recently been in Calcutta. He has, I think, been delivering lectures. Keshab took me on board a steamer the other day and he was there.
M:—Yes, Sir, I have heard a good deal about him. I have never had any occasion to hear him giving lectures. Nor do I know much about him.
Duty of a Father.
Master:—Pratap's brother came and stayed here for a few days. He said he had come here to stay. He had no work to do, and he had left his wife and children in the care of his father-in-law. But here we took him to task for his want of self-respect. Do you not think it very wrong of him to go about in such a way when he has so many children to bring up? Must strangers come to feed and look after them? I wonder he is not ashamed that somebody else has to take care of his family,—that his father-in-law should be asked to bear his burden! I rated him rather severely and told him to look about for work. It was when his folly was thus pointed out to him that he went away.
The Master reproves M., for having Married.
Master (to M.);—Are you married?
M:—Yes, Sir.
Sri Râmakrishna started at these words. He said, Ah me! He has already taken a wife! May the Lord help him.
At these words M. was covered with confusion. He sat speechless, hanging down his head like one guilty of a serious offence. He then says to himself, Is marrying then so wicked?
Master:—Have you any children?
M. can hear the beating of his own heart! Yes, sir, he answers in a feeble voice.
The Master is shocked. He rebukes M., saying, Alas! and there are children too to bring up!
M. feels that a terrible blow has been dealt to his egotism.
After a while the Master looks up kindly and says in an affectionate tone, You see, my boy, there are some good signs about you. I know them by looking at the eyes and brow. The eyes of Yogis have a peculiar look—those that in previous incarnations passed their days in communion with God. In the case of some it seems as if they have just left the seat1 for divine contemplation!
Well, now, your wife, what do you think of her? Is she of a divine nature2 leading Godward and to light? Or the reverse, leading only to darkness3 and away from God?
M:—She is good enough, but ignorant.
Master (sharply):—She is ignorant and you are wise! You think that you have attained wisdom! Do you?
M. knows not what wisdom and ignorance truly consist in. His idea is that a wise man is he who reads books. [This false notion was of course afterwards taken away and he was then taught that to know God is alone true wisdom and not to know Him ignorance.]
When the Master said, "Do you think you have attained wisdom?" M.'s egotism received a second blow.
1 Âsana.
2 Vidyâ Sakti.
3 Avidyâ Sakti.
Image worship:—Is God with form or without form?
Master:—Do you like to meditate upon God as 'with form' or 'without form'?
This question makes M. again look confused and sets him thinking, Is it then possible that one could have faith in the Formless God, and at the same time believe that He has a form? Or if one believed Him to be 'with form' how could one also think that He is 'formless'? Could two contradictory attributes co-exist in the same substance? Could white things like milk be black also at the same time?
After thinking for a while M. said, I should like, Sir, to meditate upon God as the Formless rather than as a Being 'with forms.'
Master:—That is good. There is no harm in looking at Him from this or that point of view. Yes, yes, to think of Him as the Formless Being is quite right. But take care you do not run away with the idea that that view alone is true and all others false. Meditating upon Him as a Being 'with forms' is equally right. But you must hold to your particular point of view until you realise—until you see—God, when everything will become clear.
At this M. becomes once more speechless. He hears again and again from the lips of the Master that contradictories are true of God! Never has he come across so strange a thing in all his books and to these his learning is confined. His egotism has received another blow, but it is not yet completely knocked down and crushed. So he goes on questioning and reasoning a little with the Master.
M:—Then, Sir, one may hold that God is 'with form.' But surely He is not the earthen images that are worshipped!
Master:—But my dear Sir, why should you call it an earthen image? Surely the Image Divine is made of the Spirit!
M. cannot follow this. He goes on: But is it not one's duty Sir, to make it clear to those who worship images that God is not the same as the clay forms they worship, and that in worshipping they should keep God Himself in view and not the clay images?
Public lectures & Sri Râmakrishna.
Sri Râmakrishna (sharply):—It has grown to be a fashion with you Calcutta people, to think and talk only of 'lecturing' and 'bringing others to light'! Pray, how are you going to bring light unto your own self? Eh? Who are you to teach others? The Lord of the Universe will teach mankind if need be—that Lord Who has made the sun and the moon, men, and brutes, the Lord Who has made things for them to live upon, Who has made parents to tend and rear them,—that Lord Who has done so many things, will He not do something to bring them also to light? Surely, if need be He will! He lives in the temple of the human body. He knows our inmost thoughts. If there is anything wrong in image worship, does He not know that all the worship is meant for Him? He will be pleased enough to accept it knowing that it was meant for Him alone. Why must you worry yourself about things above you and beyond your reach? Seek to know and revere God. Love God. That is the duty nearest you.
M.'s egotism is now completely crushed. He thinks to himself, What this God-man says is indeed perfectly true. What business have I to go about preaching to others? Have I myself known God? Do I love God? It is, as the proverb has it, like bidding my friend Sankara lie down on my bed when there is no bed even for myself to lie upon! About God I know nothing. It would indeed be the height of folly and vulgarity itself—of which I should be ashamed—to think of teaching others! This is not mathematics or history or literature, it is the science of God! Yes, I see the force of the words of this holy man.
This was M.'s first attempt to argue a point with the Master, and happily the last.
Master:—You were talking of 'images made of clay.' Well, there often comes a necessity of worshipping even such images as these. God Himself has provided these various forms of worship. The Lord has done all this—to suit different men in different stages of knowledge.
The mother so arranges the food for her children that every one gets what agrees with him. Suppose she has five children. Having a fish to cook, she makes different dishes out of it. She can give each one of her children what suits him exactly. One gets rich polow with the fish, while she gives only a little soup to another who is of weak digestion; she makes a sauce of sour tamarind for the third, fries the fish for the fourth and so on; exactly as it happens to agree with the stomach. Don't you see?
M.—Yes, Sir, now I do. The Lord is to be worshipped in the image of clay as a spirit by the beginner. The devotee, as he advances, may worship him independently of the Image.
Master.—Yes. And again when he sees God he realizes that everything—image and all—is a manifestation of the Spirit. To him the Image is made of Spirit—not of clay. God is Spirit.
M.—Sir, how may one fix one's mind on God?
The value of Solitude.
Master:—To that end one must chant without ceasing the Name of God and His great Attributes. One ought always to seek the company of holy men. One must always go among the Lord's devotees or those that have given up things of this world for the sake of the Lord. It is hard, no doubt, to fix one's mind on God in the midst of the world's cares and anxieties. Hence one must go into solitude now and then in order to meditate on Him. In the first stage of one's life in the Spirit, one cannot do without solitude.
When plants are young they have need of a hedge to be set about them for their protection; or else goats and cows will eat them up.
The Mind, the Retired Corner and the Forest are the three places for meditation1. One must also practise discrimination2 between the Real (God), and the Unreal (the phenomenal world). Thus a man may be able to shake off his attachment to the things of this world, to wealth, fame, power and pleasures of the senses.
M.—Sir, how ought one to live in the world as a house-holder?
Problem of Life-How solved for the House-holder.
Master:—Do all your duties with your mind always fixed on God. As for your parents and wife and children, serve them as if they were your own but know in the inmost recesses of your heart that they are not really yours,—unless they too, love the Lord. The Lord alone is really your own—and those who love the Lord.
A rich man's maid-servant will do all her duties, but her thoughts are always set upon her own home. Her master's house is not hers. She will, indeed, nurse her master's childern as if they were her own children, saying often, 'My own Rama,' 'My own Hari.' But all the while she knows full well the children are not hers.
The tortoise moves about in the water in quest of food; where do you think abides her mind? On the bank of the river to be sure—where her eggs are laid. In the same way you may go about doing your work in the world, but take good care that your mind always rests at the Hallowed Feet of the Lord.
1 Dhyâna.
2 Vichâra.
Suppose you enter the world before you have acquired by means of spiritual exercises1,a deep love2 for the Lord. Then, you may depend upon it, you shall get entangled. Grief, misfortune, and the various ills that flesh is heir to, will make you lose your balance of mind. The more you will throw yourself into the affairs of the world and trouble yourself with worldly matters, the more will become your attachment to the world.
First rub the hand with oil if you wish to break open the jack-fruit. Otherwise the milky exudation will stick to your hands. First anoint your hands with the oil of devotion3, and then deal with the affairs of the world.
Divine Contemplation in Solitude.
But to this end solitude is the one thing needful. Suppose you want to make butter, then let the curds be set in some place out of reach.
They will not set if they are disturbed. The next step for you is to begin churning, seated in a quiet place.
If you give your mind to God in solitude you will receive the spirit of renunciation4 and devotion. If you give the same mind to the world it will become vulgar and think only about the world which is another name for 'Woman and Gold.'*
1 Sâdhana.
2 Bhakti.
3 Bhakti.
Tyâga.
The world may be likened to water and the mind to milk. Milk once mixed with water cannot be brought back to the pure state again. Its purity is kept only in another state, that is, if it is first turned into butter and then placed in water. Let the milk of your mind then be turned into the butter of Divine Love1 by means of religious practices2 done in solitude. The butter will then never mix with the water but will come up to the surface. In like fashion your mind will remain unattached to the world. Though in the world it will not be of the world. True knowledge3 or Devotion being once attained, it now stands apart unattached to the world.
Along with this, practise Discrimination4; Woman and Gold 'are both unreal; the one Reality is God.' What uses has money? Why, it gives us meat and clothes and a place to live in. Thus far it goes, and no further. Surely you cannot see God with the help of money. Money is certainly not the end of life. This is the process of Discrimination. Do you see?
M.—Yes, Sir, I do. I recently had occasion to go through a Sanskrit play, called Prabodh Chandrodaya. Therein I read of Discrimination.
1 Bhakti.
2 Sâdhana.
3 Jnâna.
4 Vichâra.
* Sri Râmakrishna's own position was that woman should be renounced until the realisation of God—after,which she should be worshipped as a manifested form of the Deity.
Master:—Yes, Yes, Discrimination. Tell me, what is there in money or in the beauty of woman? Using your discrimination you shall find that the body of the most beautiful woman is made up only of flesh and blood, skin and bones, fat and marrow,—nay, of the entrails, as in the case of other animals, of urine and excreta, and the rest. The wonder is that a man can lose sight of God and give his mind entirely to things of such a kind!
M.—Sir, is it possible to see God?
How to see God.
Master:—Certainly; there is no doubt about it. These are some of the means by which one can see God:—One may go from time to time into solitude; chant His Names and His Attributes; one may strive for Discrimination; and then one may offer earnest prayer—with a yearning for the Lord.
M.—Sir, what state of the mind leads to God-vision?
Master:—Cry unto the Lord with a yearning heart and you shall see Him. People would shed a jugful of tears for the sake of wife and children! They would suffer themselves to be carried away on the stream of their own tears, weeping for the sake of money! But who ever cries out for the Lord? Cry to Him not to make a show—but with a longing and a yearning heart.
The rosy light of the dawn comes before the rising sun. Likewise is a longing and yearning heart the sign of the God-vision that is to come thereafter.
You may see God if your love for Him is as strong as the three attachments put together, namely, the attachment of a worldly man to the things of the world, the attachment of a mother to her child, and the attachment of a chaste and devoted wife to her husband.
The thing is that in order to see God one must love Him, heart and soul. One must make one's prayers so that they may reach the Divine Mother.
The kitten knows only to cry to its mother, saying 'mew' 'mew.' All the rest the mother-cat knows. She hides her young wherever she pleases—now in the kitchen, and again in the soft downy bed of the householder. Yes, the kitten knows only to cry to its mother.