CHAPTER I.
October 1885.
SECTION XIII.
October 1885.
The Master at Syampukur, Calcutta, with His Disciples.
Sri Râmakrishna with Narendra (Vivekananda), Sarat (Saradananda), Kali (Abhedananda), Rakhal (Brahmananda), M., and other disciples at Syampukur, Calcutta.
CHAPTER I.
It was about half past five in the afternoon on Tuesday, 27th October, 1885. The great national festival Durgapuja had been celebrated only a few days back. It was so difficult for the disciples to join the festivities with their whole heart. How could they rejoice when the Master was suffering from a serious malady?
The Temple of Kâli at Dakshineswar, where he ordinarily resided, was not within easy reach of Calcutta physicians. So the Master had been staying for the last three months at Syampukur and was now under the treatment of Dr. Sarkar. The hint thrown out by the Doctor that the disease was past all human remedies, proved a heavy blow to the poor disciples. It was so hard to believe that the Blessed One was soon to leave them like orphans thrown adrift upon the wide world, scattered abroad like sheep having no shepherd. It was so distressing to think that the days of rejoicing, coming one after another, which they had passed with him were numbered. They shed tears in solitude. Hoping against hope, they yet prayed for his recovery. They served him with body, mind and soul, nursed him, attended to his smallest wants day and night. To the younger disciples, headed by Narendra, this great and unique service for the Master led the way to the great renunciation of the world of which they are the most glorious examples in the present day. For, was not Sri Râmakrishna their living Ideal, a unique example before their very eyes—Who had given up the world and its so-called pleasures for the sake of God?
Strange, that in spite of the serious illness, people poured in to see, even only to catch a glimpse of, the Godman of whom they had heard so much. They felt that it was of truly peace and joy to come into the presence of Sri Râmakrishna. 'Oh how kind, how loving!' was the universal observation. Anxious for the welfare of the meanest among them, he would talk to them of God—of His Heavenly Mother—in the midst of intense physical sufferings! At last the physicians left a strict injunction with the disciples not to allow people to see him and engage him in conversation. Dr. Sarkar, who would stay with the Master for hours together (sometimes six or seven hours continually) would say to him, 'Take heed how you talk to anybody; the only person you may talk with for a length of time is myself,—in whose favour you may thus make an exception.' The fact was that the Doctor had been charmed with his company as well as with words 'sweet as honey' that fell from his lips.
Besides Vivekananda and the Doctor there were present on this particular occasion, Girish Ghosh, the great Bengali dramatist and poet; Doctor Docouri, Narendra (junior), Rakhal, M, Sarat, and many others.
The Doctor felt the pulse and prescribed the necessary remedies. There was then, for a while, a talk with reference to the course of the disease; after which the Master took the first dose of medicine as directed.
Dr. Sarkar rising to depart said to Sri Râmakrishna, who was talking to Syam Babu, 'Now that you have got Syam Babu to talk to, will you allow me to bid you goodbye?
Sri Râmakrishna: Would you like to hear some songs?
Doctor: I should like very much;—but your feeling would be terribly worked up, and you will shoot up into all sorts of antics. One's feelings must be kept under control.
The Doctor took his seat once more. Narendra poured out his charming melodies to the accompaniment of the Tampura and the Mridanga (musical instruments).
He sang:—
SONG.
God and His Works.
1. Wonderful, Infinite is the Universe, made by Thee! Behold, it is the repository of all Beauty.
B2. Thousands of stars do shine—a necklace of gold studded with gems! Innumerable are the Moons and the Suns!
3. The earth is adorned with wealth and corn; full indeed is Thy Storehouse. O Great Lord, innumerable are the stars which sing 'Well done, Lord!' 'Well done!' They sing without ceasing.
He sang again:—
SONG.
The Mother of the Universe.
1. In the midst of the dense Darkness, O Mother! breaketh forth a flood of Light, Thy wealth of formless Beauty. To this end is the Yogi's meditation within the mountain cave.
I. In the lap of Darkness Infinite and borne on the sea of great Nirvana the fragrance of Peace Everlasting floweth without cessation.
3. O Mother1! Who art Thou, seated alone within the Temple of samadhi, assuming the form of the Great Consort of the Lord of Eternity and wearing the apparel of Darkness? The Lotus of Thy feet keeps us from fear! In them doth flash the Lightning of Thy Love for Thy children. From Thy face of spirit is poured out laughter loud and terrific.
Doctor (to M.): It is dangerous to him—this singing! It will work upon his feelings with serious results!
Sri Râmakrishna (to M.): What does the Doctor say?
M. Sir, the Doctor is afraid lest this singing should work upon your feelings and bring on Samâdhi.
Sri Râmakrishna (to the Doctor, with folded hands): No, Oh no; why should my feelings be worked up? I am very well!
1 Kali.
But as soon as these words were uttered the Master, who was already losing sense-consciousness, went right into deep Samâdhi. His 'corporeal frame' became motionless! The eyes moved not! He sat speechless like a veritable figure of wood or stone! All sense-consciousness had left him! The mind, the intellect and the heart, had all stepped out of their wonted course towards that One Object, the Mother of the Universe!
Again did Narendra pour out of his sweet throat, melody after melody.
He sang:—
SONG.
The Lord My Husband.
1. What an enchanting Beauty is here! what a charming Face! The Lord of my soul hath come to my (humble) abode!
2. Behold! the spring of my love is running over (with joy)!
3. O Lord of my soul! Thou Who art made of love alone, is there any riches that I can offer to Thee? O, accept my heart, my life, my all, yes, Lord! my all deign to accept!
And yet again:—
SONG.
Nothing Good or Beautiful without the Lord.
1. Gracious Lord, what comfort can there be in life, if the Bee of my soul is not lost in the Lotus of Thy Feet for evermore!
2. What is the use of countless heaps of wealth if at the same time Thou the most Precious of all Gems art not kept with.
3. The tender face of the child I do not wish to see if in that face, beautiful like the moon as it is, I cannot see (the image of) Thy Loving Face.
4. What a thing is moonlight! It would indeed appear to be made of darkness absolute, if when the outward moon appears in the heavens the Moon of Thy Love riseth not also in the firmament of the soul at the same time.
5. Even the holy attachment of chaste wife would be full of impurities, if the gold of her human love is not set with the priceless gem of Thy Love Divine.
6. Lord, scepticism about Thee, the offspring of infatuation, is like the never-ceasing bite of the poisonous snake.
7. Lord, what more shall I say to Thee! Thou art the (Priceless) Jewel of my heart, the abode of Joy Everlasting!
Listening to the song—specially to the portion referring to the chaste wife and the child, the doctor cried out, 'Ah me! Ah me!!'
Narendra sang again:—
SONG.
The Ecstatic Love of God.
1. O! how long shall I have to wait for the coming of that madness of love for God, when having nothing else in the world to wish for, I shall chant the name of Hari (God) and there shall flow from my eyes a stream of tears of love.
2. When shall my life, my mind, be made pure! O when shall I go forth on pilgrimage to the Brindaban of love! When shall the darkness of my eyes be driven away by the collyrium of Knowledge Divine.
3. When shall the iron of my body be turned into gold at the touch of the Divine Touch-stone! O when shall I see the vision of a world made up of God alone!
4. When shall my desire for doing good works be a thing of the past! When shall my sense of caste and family distinction be gone! O when shall I be placed beyond fear, anxiety, and the feeling of shame! When shall I be free from pride (and slavish obedience to custom)!
5. With the dust of the feet of Bhaktas (true lovers of God) rubbed all over my body, with the scrip of renunciation placed over1 my shoulders, O when shall I drink the water of ecstatic Love with the palm of both my hands from the River2 of Divine Love.