一个瑜伽行者的自传

第五十三章 My Interrupted

　　第五十三章 My Interrupted Flight Toward The Himalayas

　　Amar Mitter，a high school friend of mine，had planned to accompany me to the Himalayas。We had chosen the following day for our flight。Amidst the Himalayan snows，I hoped to fnd the master whose face often appeared to me in visions。

　　The family was living now in Calcutta，where Father had been permanently transferred。Following the patriarchal Indian custom，Ananta had brought his bride to live in our home，now at 4 Gurpar Road。There in a small attic room I engaged in daily meditations and prepared my mind for the divine search。

　　The memorable morning arrived with inauspicious rain。Hearing the wheels of Amar‘s carriage in the road，I hastily tied together a blanket，a pair of sandals，Lahiri Mahasaya’s picture，a copy of the Bhagavad Gita，a string of prayer beads，and two loincloths。This bundle I threw from my third-story window。I ran down the steps and passed my uncle，buying fsh at the door。

　　Retrieving my bundle，I joined Amar with conspiratorial caution。We drove to Chadni Chowk，a merchandise center。For months we had been saving our tiffn money to buy English clothes。Knowing that my clever brother could easily play the part of a detective，we thought to outwit him by European garb。

　　On the way to the station，we stopped for my cousin，Jotin Ghosh，whom I called Jatinda。He was a new convert，longing for a guru in the Himalayas。He donned the new suit we had in readiness。

　　At the station we bought tickets to Burdwan，where we planned to transfer for Hardwar in the Himalayan foothills。As soon as the train，like ourselves，was in fight，I gave utterance to a few of my glorious anticipations。

　　“Just imagine！”I ejaculated。“We shall be initiated by the masters and experience the trance of cosmic consciousness。Our fesh will be charged with such magnetism that wild animals of the Himalayas will come tamely near us。Tigers will be no more than meek house cats awaiting our caresses！”

　　This remark-picturing a prospect I considered entrancing，both metaphorically andliterally-brought an enthusiastic smile from Amar。But Jatinda averted his gaze，directing it through the window at the scampering landscape。

　　“Let the money be divided in three portions。”Jatinda broke a long silence with this suggestion。“Each of us should buy his own ticket at Burdwan。Thus no one at the station will surmise that we are running away together。”

　　I unsuspectingly agreed。At dusk our train stopped at Burdwan。Jatinda entered the ticket office；Amar and I sat on the platform。We waited fifteen minutes，then made unavailing inquiries。Searching in all directions，we shouted Jatindas name with the urgency of fright。But he had faded into the dark unknown surrounding the little station。

　　“Amar，we must return home。”I was weeping like a child。“Jatindas callous departure is an ill omen。This trip is doomed to failure。”

　　“Is this your love for the Lord？Cant you stand the little test of a treacherous companion？”

　　Through Amars suggestion of a divine test，my heart steadied itself。We refreshed ourselves with famous Burdwan sweetmeats，sitabhog（food for the goddess）and motichur（nuggets of sweet pearl）。In a few hours，we entrained for Hardwar，via Bareilly。Changing trains at Moghul Serai，we discussed a vital matter as we waited on the platform。

　　Deeming it advisable to leave Hardwar at once，we bought tickets to proceed north to Rishikesh，a soil long hallowed by feet of many masters。I had already boarded the train，while Amar lagged on the platform。He was brought to an abrupt halt by a shout from a policeman。Our unwelcome guardian escorted us to a station bungalow and took charge of our money。He explained courteously that it was his duty to hold us until my elder brother arrived。

　　Learning that the truantsdestination had been the Himalayas，the offcer related a strange story。

　　I see you are crazy about saints！You will never meet a greater man of God than the one I saw only yesterday。My brother offcer and I frst encountered him fve days ago。We were patrolling by the Ganges，on a sharp lookout for a certain murderer。Our instructions were to capture him，alive or dead。He was known to be masquerading as a sadhu in order to rob pilgrims。A short way before us，we spied a fgure which resembled the description of the criminal。He ignored our command to stop；we ran to overpower him。Approaching his back，I wielded my ax with tremendous force；the mans right arm was severed almost completely from his body。

　　Without outcry or any glance at the ghastly wound，the stranger astonishingly continued his swift pace。As we jumped in front of him，he spoke quietly。

　　‘I am not the murderer you are seeking。’

　　I was deeply mortifed to see I had injured the person of a divine-looking sage。Prostrating myself at his feet，I implored his pardon，and offered my turban-cloth to staunch the heavy spurts of blood。

　　‘Son，that was just an understandable mistake on your part。’The saint regarded me kindly。‘Run along，and don’t reproach yourself。The Beloved Mother is taking care of me。He pushed his dangling arm into its stump and lo！it adhered；the blood inexplicably ceased to fow。

　　‘Come to me under yonder tree in three days and you will fnd me fully healed。Thus you will feel no remorse。’

　　Yesterday my brother offcer and I went eagerly to the designated spot。The sadhu was there and allowed us to examine his arm。It bore no scar or trace of hurt！

　　“I am going via Rishikesh to the Himalayan solitudes。’He blessed us as he departed quickly。”

　　The offcer concluded with a pious ejaculation。

　　So near the Himalayas and yet，in our captivity，so far，I told Amar I felt doubly impelled to seek freedom。

　　“Let us slip away when opportunity offers。We can go on foot to holy Rishikesh。”I smiled encouragingly。

　　But my companion had turned pessimist as soon as the stalwart prop of our money had been taken from us。

　　“If we started a trek over such dangerous jungle land，we should fnish，not in the city of saints，but in the stomachs of tigers！”

　　Ananta and Amars brother arrived after three days。Amar greeted his relative with affectionate relief，while I was unreconciled。

　　At home in Calcutta，Father touchingly requested me to curb my roving feet until，at least，the completion of my high school studies。In my absence，he had lovingly hatched a plot by arranging for a saintly pundit，Swami Kebalananda，to come regularly to the house。

　　“The sage will be your Sanskrit tutor，”my parent announced confdently。

　　Unknown to Father，Swami Kebalananda was an exalted disciple of Lahiri Mahasaya。Kebalananda was a noted authority on the ancient shastras or sacred books：hiserudition had earned him the title of“Shastri Mahasaya，”by which he was usually addressed。But my progress in Sanskrit scholarship was unnoteworthy。I sought every opportunity to forsake prosaic grammar and to talk of yoga and Lahiri Mahasaya。My tutor obliged me one day by telling me something of his own life with the master。

　　Rarely fortunate，I was able to remain near Lahiri Mahasaya for ten years。His Benares home was my nightly goal of pilgrimage。The guru was always present in a small front parlor on the frst foor。As he sat in lotus posture on a backless wooden seat，his disciples garlanded him in a semicircle。His eyes sparkled and danced with the joy of the Divine。They were ever half closed，peering through the inner telescopic orb into a sphere of eternal bliss。He seldom spoke at length。Occasionally his gaze would focus on a student in need of help。

　　An indescribable peace blossomed within me at the masters glance。I was permeated with his fragrance，as though from a lotus of infnity。To be with him，even without exchanging a word for days，was experience which changed my entire being。The master was a living temple of God whose secret doors were open to all disciples through devotion。

　　Lahiri Mahasaya was no bookish interpreter of the scriptures。Effortlessly he dipped into the‘divine library。’Foam of words and spray of thoughts gushed from the fountain of his omniscience。He had the wondrous clavis which unlocked the profound philosophical science embedded ages ago in the Vedas。If asked to explain the different planes of consciousness mentioned in the ancient texts，he would smilingly assent。

　　‘I will undergo those states，and presently tell you what I perceive。’He was thus diametrically unlike the teachers who commit scripture to memory and then give forth unrealized abstractions。

　　‘Please expound the holy stanzas as the meaning occurs to you。’The taciturn guru often gave this instruction to a near-by disciple。‘I will guide your thoughts，that the right interpretation be uttered。’In this way many of Lahiri Mahasayas perceptions came to be recorded，with voluminous commentaries by various students。

　　‘Words are only shells，’he said。‘Win conviction of God’s presence through your own joyous contact in meditation。

　　“No matter what the disciples problem，the guru advised Kriya Yoga for its solution。”The yogic key will not lose its effciency when I am no longer present in the body

　　to guide you。This technique cannot be bound，filed，and forgotten，in the manner oftheoretical inspirations。Continue ceaselessly on your path to liberation through Kriya，whose power lies in practice。

　　“I myself consider Kriya the most effective device of salvation through self-effort ever to be evolved in mans search for the Infnite。”Kebalananda concluded with this earnest testimony。

　　“Through its use，the omnipotent God，hidden in all men，became visibly incarnated in the fesh of Lahiri Mahasaya and a number of his disciples。”

　　A Christlike miracle by Lahiri Mahasaya took place in Kebalanandas presence。

　　A blind disciple，Ramu，aroused my active pity。Should he have no light in his eyes，when he faithfully served our master，in whom the Divine was fully blazing？One morning I sought to speak to Ramu，but he sat for patient hours fanning the guru with a hand-made palm-leaf punkha。When the devotee fnally left the room，I followed him。

　　‘Ramu，how long have you been blind？’

　　“From my birth，sir！Never have my eyes been blessed with a glimpse of the sun。’”‘Our omnipotent guru can help you。Please make a supplication。’

　　The following day Ramu diffidently approached Lahiri Mahasaya。The disciple felt almost ashamed to ask that physical wealth be added to his spiritual superabundance。

　　‘Master，the Illuminator of the cosmos is in you。I pray you to bring His light into my eyes，that I perceive the sun’s lesser glow。

　　‘Ramu，someone has connived to put me in a diffcult position。I have no healing power。’

　　‘Sir，the Infnite One within you can certainly heal。’

　　‘That is indeed different，Ramu。God’s limit is nowhere！He who ignites the stars and the cells of fesh with mysterious life-effulgence can surely bring luster of vision into your eyes。

　　“The master touched Ramus forehead at the point between the eyebrows。”‘Keep your mind concentrated there，and frequently chant the name of the prophet Rama for seven days。The splendor of the sun shall have a special dawn for you。’

　　“Lo！in one week it was so。For the frst time，Ramu beheld the fair face of nature。Ramu‘s faith was the devotionally ploughed soil in which the guru’s powerful seed of permanent healing sprouted。”Kebalananda was silent for a moment，then paid a further tribute to his guru。

　　It was evident in all miracles performed by Lahiri Mahasaya that he never allowedthe ego-Principle to consider itself a causative force。By perfection of resistless surrender，the master enabled the Prime Healing Power to fow freely through him。

　　“The numerous bodies which were spectacularly healed through Lahiri Mahasaya eventually had to feed the fames of cremation。But the silent spiritual awakenings he effected，the Christlike disciples he fashioned，are his imperishable miracles。”

　　I never became a Sanskrit scholar；Kebalananda taught me a diviner syntax。

　　4.The central sacred fgure of the Sanskrit epic，Ramayana。