Calcutta and Dakshineshwar

BOTH the Sadhus launched out in the darkness and coming upon the banks of the Ganges crossed the huge bridge over it. The cold was very great. Reaching the other side, and turning to the left, they descended some steps and came to a place, where a portion of a temple, close to the Ganges, is used by the Brahmins to attend spiritually upon the pilgrims after bath in the sacred river. Here, the Sadhus found a plank on which they rested for the night. Next day, early morning, they mounted up and proceeded to Calcutta. Making enquiries about the temple of Kali they were directed towards Kalighat about seven miles from the place. In due course, they reached Kalighat and went straight up to the temple and stood in front of the big image of Kali in black stone – a large red tongue lolling out of Her widened mouth.

“O Mother of the Universe,” prayed Ramdas, “bless Thy weak and helpless child – may Thy humble slave look upon all womankind as mothers, representing Thy divine form.” Here again Ramdas experienced a feeling of inexpressible joy and complete resignation to the divine will. Tears flowed profusely from his eyes. It was all due to the Mother’s grace. The Sadhus stayed in the Dharmashala at this place for two days.

Retracing their steps back to Calcutta, the Sadhus again arrived at the banks of the Ganges. As prompted by Ram, Ramdas then proposed to go to Dakshineshwar, and accordingly they boarded a steamboat – a kind friend having furnished them with tickets – which carried them on the breast of the Ganges, on the banks of which they alighted, a long distance away from Calcutta. This was 10 o’clock in the night. The night was dark. With some friends on the road they inquired for the way leading to Dakshineshwar, and as directed they walked on from lane to lane, and then through fields losing their way at places for want of a guide. It was all Ram’s work who was testing his devotees. However, by His grace, the Sadhus reached at last the entrance to the famous temple at midnight. They found the big massive front door shut at which they knocked. The door opened and a voice in a high key demanded.

“Who is there?”

“Two wandering Sadhus come for the Darshan of Kali,” replied Ramdas.

“That is all right, you cannot come in now, you may do so tomorrow morning.”

So saying the friend was about to close the door in the face of the Sadhus, but both of them quietly got in, in spite of his remonstrances, and he was found later to be the night-watchman. Both the Sadhus walked into the large square of the temple, fully resolved not to turn back until they obtained the Darshan of Kali. The kind watchman who got wild at first softened, and told the pilgrims that they could get the Darshan of Kali, but they must not think of staying in the temple for the night, as it was against rules to do so.

“That is Kali’s affair – none of ours to think of at present,” replied Ramdas.

They walked to the place whence a light was proceeding, and found themselves standing in front of the image of Kali. A thrill of joy coursed through Ramdas’ frame at the sight of the figure of Kali – the beau ideal of Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa – that well-known Saint of Dakshineshwar. While they were standing with folded hands before the idol, a friend issued out of the temple and finding the Sadhus, gave them some of Kali’s Prasad to eat. Ramdas then questioned if it was the wish of Mother Kali to grant them refuge for the night in the temple. The Pujari – this kind friend was such – hesitated and said:

“According to the rules of the temple, no outsiders are allowed to sleep during nights inside the temple precincts. However, since it is nearly midnight now, it would be hard indeed to send you out in the darkness and cold.”

‘O Ram! No rules, no regulations are binding upon Thy Bhaktas. To utter Thy glorious name means to be at once free from all bonds, all ties, all rules and all fetters.’ Then the kind Pujari friend led the Sadhus to an open Dharmashala on the banks of the Ganges. He again provided them with some eatables and pressed them to eat. Ram’s kindness knows no bounds. In the place occupied by the Sadhus sleep was out of question. Not only was the cold very severe due to the chill breeze blowing from the river but also quite a host of mosquitoes commenced attacking the Sadhus in grim earnest.

“This is a terrible state of things,” cried out the Sadhuram. “In Tirupati, there was only cold which was comparatively tolerable, but here, it is coupled with the sharp stings of mosquitoes.”

“It is all right, friend,” replied Ramdas. “Ram’s kindness cannot be sufficiently praised. He has found a most efficient method to keep Ramdas awake to enable him to perform Rambhajan without sleep encroaching upon it in the least.”

“Well, well,” was all that the Sadhu said who was now busy driving away the winged guests by waving to and fro the piece of cloth with which he covered his body. The Sadhu spent a very disturbed night, complaining, fretting and grumbling while Ramdas was struggling to bear it all by absorbing his mind in the meditation of Ram, who in a short time made him unconscious of his body, in which state he remained most of the night.

The day was just breaking when the Sadhuram got up and asked Ramdas to follow him out of the place. He did not know where to go. But one thing, he wanted to be away from the place at the earliest opportunity. The Sadhus had not proceeded half a furlong from the temple when they met the Pujari, who had been so hospitable to them the previous night, coming up in front of them.

“Where are you going so early?” hailed the kind-hearted friend. “You should not go away unless you take the midday meal, the Prasad of Kali. Pray, get back to the temple.”

This invitation had to be accepted, and both returned to the temple. Ram’s ways are mysterious indeed!

“Wash yourselves and your clothes in the Ganges,” suggested the Pujari. “In due time, you will be invited for dinner.”

As suggested by him, both descended a number of steps leading to the sacred river in which they bathed and also washed their clothes. Coming up to the temple courtyard, they spread the wet clothes in the sun for drying and sat there warming themselves from the same source of heat. The following thoughts then crossed Ramdas’ mind:

‘O Ram, Thou hast brought Thy unworthy slave to this temple, because of the greatness of the Saint Sri Ramakrishna, who flourished here at one time and whose teachings have spread all over the world. Somehow, Thou hast prevented Thy slave from leaving the place in the morning. After the midday meal he has to bid farewell to the place. But before doing so, would it not be well, O Ram, to acquaint Thy slave with the spot where the great Saint lived and performed his austerities and meditation?’

Scarcely five minutes had passed since these thoughts were working in his mind, when a young and tall Sannyasi dressed in a coat reaching nearly to his feet and his forehead smeared with stripes of Chandan, i.e., sandal paste, walked up to where Ramdas was sitting, and sat beside him. After an exchange of salutes, he spoke:

“Brother, have you not heard of the great Saint of Dakshineshwar, Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, who lived here some years ago?”

“Yes, friend, Ram has brought his Das here for that very reason,” replied Ramdas who was then wondering at the inscrutable ways of Ram.

“Well then,” said the Bengalee Sadhu, for he was a Bengalee, “come along with me, I shall show you all the places connected with his life here.”

‘O Ram, in what words shall Thy poor untutored slave measure the depths of the fountain of Thy love for Thy Das? No sooner does he speak out his wish than it is fulfilled!’ The Bengalee Sadhu led the humble Ramdas (the Sadhuram did not accompany him) into a room forming a part of the rows of buildings that surrounded the square yard of the temple. The room was locked! The kind Sadhu called for the key and opening the door, let in Ramdas. Oh, the joy of it all! Inside was found a cot on which there were a bed and two cushions used by Sri Ramakrishna, preserved in his memory. Ramdas, approaching them, reverently laid his head on them by turns. By this time he was beginning to feel the electric influence of the very air inside that room. Thrill after thrill of joy passed through him. He then laid himself flat on the floor of the room and began to roll all over the place, feeling all the while, an inexpressible ecstasy of bliss. O Ram, the floor was blessed by the tread of the sacred feet of that holy man. About half an hour passed thus and he was still rolling on the floor, his face beaming with a strange light of infinite joy.