In South Africa we have a large number of young people emerging every year from Universities. Most Universities are in the larger cities and there is obviously a concentration of educated young people in the cities. In contrast with this, one notices an acute shortage of educated young people serving our rural areas. On a happier note, one however finds a large number of primary and secondary schools dotting the rural landscape. Primary education is available in many rural areas albeit the difficulties typical of those areas. A country is not an amalgam of its cities alone. Rural areas are an integral part of a country. Backwardness in any part of the country affects the entire nation. Education and skills development must be taken to higher levels to ensure job-preparedness and an overall work-culture. Swami Vivekananda emphasised that "education is the panacea for all ills." Higher education and skills development would certainly bring greater prosperity, happiness and fulfillment to our rural brethren.
Educated youth from cities have a tendency to live in splendid isolation of their rural counterparts. As years go by this isolation becomes a way of life and the educated youth of the city consider it natural to live apart from their rural countrymen. People living in rural areas also find their city counterparts unapproachable and unhelpful. Rural people are handicapped by several limitations - poverty, transport, absence of technology, etc. They need the connectivity, sympathy and educational expertise of the city educated youth. The city youth should know that if they extend a helping hand to their rural countrymen, especially in a vital core issue like education, they will be expressing sympathy and high citizenship values that will contribute to nation building.
Swami Vivekananda pointed out that to the extent education spreads among the masses to that extent a nation becomes great. He also observed, "Education, education, education alone! Travelling through many cities of Europe and observing in them the comforts and education of even the poor people, their was brought to my mind the state of our own poor people, and I used to shed tears. What made the difference? Education was the answer I got."
No doubt, such a type of education for the masses calls for a great deal of effort and much sacrifice on the part of the educated classes of the population. Any amount of effort on the part of government authorities cannot make education all-pervasive. But the educated youth and even adults of the cities can play a significant role in promoting education in the rural areas. City educated young people should positively connect with rural teachers, learners, social workers, health-care workers and tribal authorities. Unfailing connectionpoints should be set up. Teams of youth should travel from time to time to rural schools, welfare projects, orphanages and other such places and in an encouraging manner they should motivate and help the masses. Their objectives should be:
Primary motivation for skills development and higher education.
To teach a work-culture and work-ethic that would lead to self-reliance.
Improve the abilities of those holding responsible positions in the rural areas.
Acquaint the masses with the fundamental requirements for a better living such as physical education and hygiene, good nutrition, food production, etc.
The masses should know the history of their own country. The successes and pitfalls of history should be taught to them. Lessons from history are invaluable.
Moral, cultural and spiritual values, free of superstitions and choking traditions should be imported to all.
Swami Vivekananda expressed great hope in the younger generation. "Young men, my hope is in you!" he declared. Will the educated youth not shed their isolation? With the fire of enthusiasm in their hearts will they not selflessly contribute to alleviating poverty and ignorance from the very country whose resources they liberally used to educate themselves? Swami Vivekananda spoke with pathos when he knew that the educated were abdicating their responsibility. He questioned our insensitivity and pointed out to us, "I hold every man a traitor who having been educated at the expense of the poor, pays not the least heed to them."
The Wings of the Paramahamsa - Swami Siddhinathananda
(Two of Sri Ramakrishna's foremost disciples were Mahendra, the author of "The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna", and Narendra or Swami Vivekananda. Both of them rose from extremely difficult circumstances to become worthy instruments for the Master's work. The author of this article was a senior monk of the Ramakrishna Order and Head of the Ramakrishna Mission Sevashrama, Calicut, Kerala, India. This article is reproduced from, "The Vedanta Kesari", Nov - Dec 1987.)
Sri Ramakrishna had two Indras amongst his disciples and both proved to be mighty pillars of his mission. One was Mahendra, and the other, Narendra. Both came to him in critical periods of their lives and he saved them from their crises, made them his own and transformed them into his apostles. They are the golden wings of the Paramahamsa.
Mahendra was a sensitive soul. He got disgusted with the interminable quarrels of the womenfolk at home. He found life intolerable and so decided to put an end to it. He got out of home one night with a grim resolve. His wife smelt something amiss in his unusual faring forth and so she accompanied him. He hired a horse-carriage and both went along. A short while after, a wheel of the vehicle broke. Helplessly he called on a friend nearby. The friend felt it an untimely intrusion and Mahendra sensed it. Keeping his wife there, he went out and called another carriage and both went off to his sister's home at Dakshineshwar. The next day Mahendra found his Saviour.
Had the friend welcomed him, he would have spent the night with him and gone home the next morning. But that was not to be. The Saint of Dakshineshwar was in need of a scribe to record the modern Veda. His Divine Mother manipulated matters in such a way that a talented scribe was retrieved from the sordid world and brought to the feet of Her beloved son. How Mahendra subsequently became Ramakrishna's Vyasa is a well known fact that needs no mention here. Misery is God's blessing, said Sarada Devi, and here is a shining example of the same.
Narendra had plenty of this sort of blessing. A happy, talented young man, he suddenly lost his father. He found himself thrown down from the lap of luxury to the pit of poverty. Being the eldest son, it fell to his lot to find bread for his large family. He knocked about here and there in search of a job to keep the wolf away from his doors. The stark reality of a cruel, selfish world shocked him. Starvation at home drove him to Dakshineshwar to seek divine succour to solve his mundane problems. He literally ran to the priest of Kali at Dakshineshwar to request him to plead with Her to remove his poverty. True, he had met the saint a few times before and was impressed by his saint-liness and love. He considered the saint a monomaniac because of the latter's peculiar behav-iour towards him. Yet, he thought the saint could somehow save him from starvation. Ramakrishna said he could make no request to the Mother for anything worldly. He advised Naren to approach the Mother himself and make the request. In common with the Brahmos to whom image worship was anathema, Naren had abhorred Ramakrishna's Divine Mother Kali. But adversity made him accept Her reality and seek Her aid. As directed by Ramakrishna, Naren went to Her, saw Her and prayed to Her for discrimination and dispassion and forgot all about his starving home. And finally when he did remember about it, he was ashamed to ask for such petty things from the Mother of the universe. No, Naren was not born to be a man of the world.
Ramakrishna needed a spokesman to broadcast his spiritual realizations. His Mother who controlled the destinies of man, engineered the fate of Naren in such a way that he was driven to take refuge in the mad priest of Hers and, through him, in Her. Poverty opened Naren's eye of Viveka, discrimination, but the attainment of Ananda, bliss, was a long way off.
Narendra received a boon of frugal fare and rough raiment from Ramakrishna. At Mahendra's recommendation Narendra was appointed teacher by Vidyasagar in one of his schools. It was managed by a son-in-law of Vidyasagar. The manager did not like the new entrant because the latter was not subservient to him. He therefore set the students of the higher classes against the teacher and made them complain to Vidyasagar that the new teacher was no good at his job. Naren lost his post. If nothing had happened, Naren would have continued to be a school master and supported his poor family. But he was born to be a world teacher and not simply a school teacher. The manager who conspired to dismiss Naren from the school deserves our thanks. No, the Mother's will cannot be flouted.
After the passing away of the Guru, most of the disciples went in different directions either on pilgrimage or for tapas (austerities). Naren too went to the Himalayas with intent to enter on severe tapas. There he received news that a sister of his had committed suicide. He became restless and came away from the hills. He had to do something for the welfare of women and the masses. Once at Dakshineshwar he had expressed the wish to remain immersed in meditation. Ramakrishna had then said that he should rather be a big banyan providing succour and shade to weary souls. In spite of himself, Naren was thrown into the mission that his Master had chalked out for him.
Naren had miseries galore to contend with. Adversity transformed Narendra into Vivekananda. Abroad he had to battle against the carping calumnies of the missionary bodies. He faced them all, relying solely on God and his Master, and came out with flying colours. Fire proveth gold and tribulation proveth man. Verily, it was the crosses that transformed Narendra into Vivekananda.
The existence of misery under the benign rule of a merciful God is a tricky problem for the faithful. It is an essential element in the growth of man. A cosy life will end up in ennui. Those who have no problems of life will become a problem to themselves. To escape boredom they often take to drugs and drinks. That is a remedy worse than the ailment. A snug life will end up in desperation and frustration. It finds no purpose in life. On the other hand, a life of thorns makes man think of the purpose of existence. It is misery that makes man seek the deeper dimensions of his being. Philosophy owes its birth to misery. It is the despondence of Arjuna that leads to the teachings of the Gita. It was the sight of sickness and death that led a prince to Buddhahood. A crocodile in the Kalady river played a decisive part in the shaping of the Advaitacharya.
Sita said: Na sukhaat labhate sukham, 'happiness does not beget happiness.' Kunti prayed for perpetual calamities in order to be always in the presence of God. Indeed, misery is a blessing, as the Holy Mother said. It is so only if one knows how to benefit by it. Sri Ramakrishna said misery in human life is meant to manufacture saints. In the Bhagavata, Narada tells Vyasa about his previous birth as the son of a maid-servant. When he was five years old, his mother was bitten by a snake and she died. Taking it to be a blessing of God who always wishes well of His devotees, he went to the woods, meditated on God and had a vision of Him. In answer to Vyasa's query how he spent the rest of his life, the would-be Narada said: 'I went about the world waiting for the final exit without worry, contented, chanting His name without shame and remembering the blessings He had done me in secret' - guhyaani bhadraani, krtaani ca smaran (Bh. 1.6.27). The usual interpretation of the quoted line is: 'Remembering the Lord's secret and sacred deeds.' But it can lend itself also to mean - remembering the blessings in disguise done to me. It fits in well with his earlier statement that he took his mother's sudden death anugraham manyamaanah, 'as a blessing of God' (Bh. 1.6.10). Had that not happened he would have stayed on with his mother and become a servant in his master's house. God cleared the way for the boy to go in search of God. Narada shows how misery can be put to good use. Job, of the Old Testament, provides a fine example of converting calamities into spiritual opportunities. When he was smitten severely, he said: 'The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of God.' (Bk. of Job, 1.22) This has been the story of every saint. Verily, misery is God's way of smelting away all the dross from man and making him pure gold.
Mahendranath Gupta (1854 - 1932)
Destiny tried both Mahendra and Narendra severely and both gained immensely thereby. Indeed, Ramakrishna manufactured sages out of them. None becomes great without the fire ordeal. Often life itself provides enough trials and tribulations in the progress of the saints to be. They put every turn of fortune to good use. Mahendra became the Vyasa of Ramakrishna, and Narendra became his alterego. Mahendra was 'Gupta', hidden by nature and protected by God. Narendra was 'Datta', a gift of God to the world at large. These two, the Gupta and the Datta are the pillars of the movement known in their Master's name. Narendra inspires and captures the souls and Mahendra nourishes and sustains them. They attained their own perfection, aatmamoksa, and provided succour and solace, jagad-hita, to the weary souls. Mahendra recorded the revelation of Ramakrishna, and Vivekananda provides the commentary on the Paramahamsa's life and teachings.
At Mount Abu, during his wandering days, Swami Vivekananda met the Maharaja of Khetri. 'Swamiji, what is life?' asked the prince. The monk replied: 'Life is the unfoldment and development of a being under circumstance tending to press it down.' It is a definition derived from the book of his own life. Indeed, misery is a blessing of God.
And Mahendra and Narendra are verily the golden wings of the Paramahamsa of Dakshineswar.
Be sincere in your practice, words and deeds. You will feel blessed! His blessings are always showered on all creatures in the earth. It is needless to ask for it. Practise meditation sincerely and you will understand His infinite grace. God wants sincerity, truthfulness and love. Outward verbal effusions do not touch Him.
Everything, no doubt, happens by God's will, yet man must work because God expresses His will through man's action. Do not relax your spiritual practices.
Disciple: Mother, how can I have a perfectly pure heart and love for God?
Mother: All in good time. Now that you have taken refuge with the Master, everything will come to pass. You must pray to the Master.
My child, you have been extremely fortunate in getting this human birth. Have intense devotion to God. One must work hard. Can one achieve anything without effort? You must devote some time for prayer even in the midst of the busiest hours of the day. I used to be very busy during my days at Dakshineshwar; yet I did my prayer and meditation.
Never fear, He is ever looking after you. Do His work and practise Sadhana. A little work daily drives away idle thoughts from the mind. A solitary and inactive life is liable to be troubled with idle thinking.
Practise meditation and by and by your mind will be so calm and fixed that you will find it hard to keep away from meditation.
Swami Vivekananda is still Living - Brahmacharini Bhavani
(Vivekananda literature not only provides us with inspiration, it also gives us a firm conviction that Swamiji is still living. Brahmacharini Bhavani, formerly Ms Nancy Kenny, of the Sarada Convent, California, USA, describes how Swamiji has been the primary source of inspiration in her life. This article is reproduced from "The Vedanta Kesari", July 1987.)
The influence of Swami Vivekananda extends far beyond the Indian borders. Half way around the world in America, this unique Indian gentleman from a previous century is irrefutably altering the minds and hearts of many. In my own case, he has changed the course of my life. In the quest for spiritual fulfillment, it is Swami Vivekananda who has influenced me most and who has been my primary source of inspiration.
Swamiji entered my life in a rather circuitous fashion. He slipped in through the back door, unnoticed at first, then gradually made his presence known.
In 1965, I was studying in a College in Southern California. At that time, the country was on the verge of a social revolution. The civil-rights movement was gaining momentum, and cries against the Vietnam War were being heard on campus. During this turbulent year a relative introduced me to Vedanta. I was nineteen years old.
After attending several lectures at the Vedanta Society of Southern California, I was curious to read more about Sri Ramakrishna and his teachings, so I bought The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna. Every evening, after a full day of work and study, I would come home, eat quickly, grab the book and read.
It absolutely fascinated me. I was transported by the words of Sri Ramakrishna. Strangely enough, the setting in India did not seem at all distracting.
Being a student of physics, I was immediately struck by the similarity between the lofty truths of Advaita Vedanta and the theories of modern physics. More than once, I tried to convince my college friends, who were curious about this 'bizarre' religion, of this similarity. Intellectually, the Vedanta philosophy made perfect sense, and I readily accepted it on that basis alone. This in itself was a landmark in my life, for I had long been seeking answers to those eternal questions: Why are we here? What is the purpose of life? The ‘Theory of Relativity' and the still-evolving Quantum Theory appealed to me very much, but no religion or philosophy had satisfactorily resolved the enigma. At last, in Advaita Vedanta, the questions had been answered - and answered in a way that did not contradict reason or science. At that time, however, I had no inclination to apply the philosophy to my own life.
For the next five years, I became more and more involved in the student demonstrations against the Vietnam War that were by now massive and nationwide. I still, however, regularly attended the Vedanta lectures and read many books on Vedanta, including the Gita, the Upanishads and the Eternal Companion. Vedanta had firmly captured my interest, but I was still much more interested in the world and what it had to offer.
Then I began to read the Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda. From that moment on, the magnet of Swamiji began to draw me closer and closer, often against my will.
What initially attracted me to Swami Vivekananda was his relentless logic and incredibly brilliant mind. He had an uncanny ability to penetrate a complex philosophical idea, and explain it in simple English. Any opposing argument was vigorously struck down by the sheer force of his logic. While reading, I would often think to myself, 'Of course, this is the way it has to be, because this is the only way it makes sense.'
After reading the four Yogas, Inspired Talks and several of Swamiji's lectures, I was intellectually convinced of the truth of Vedanta. From this firm conviction, arose the desire to put these teachings into practice. I realized that an intellectual understanding of religion was not enough to satisfy the yearning in my heart.
It was around this time when another aspect of Swami Vivekananda began to catch hold of me. Reading further into the Complete Works, his words seemed to vibrate with a tremendous strength and power. Filled with wonder, I would often sit back and imagine how it would have felt to have heard him speak those words in person, to have been in his presence, and to have been the direct recipient of such an immediate and powerful spiritual force. Soon, I could not even look at a photograph of him without a deep sense of awe.
Then I read his letters. The awe, having created a feeling of distance, vanished and I began to feel comfortably close to him. In conjunction with his letters, I also picked up Swami Vivekananda: His Second Visit to the West by Marie Louise Burke. This book absolutely captivated me - so much so that I read the entire book in a few sittings. For the first time, Swami Vivekananda was more than just a brilliant expounder of Advaita Vedanta. He was also a person -real and alive. Although he was a spiritual giant, he was so human, so reachable.
After completing the book, I could not get him out of my mind. Even when I was busy trying to enjoy worldly pursuits, he would be there, slipping in and out of my consciousness. ] often wondered why this happened, since I was making no attempt to seek him out. I remember thinking at the time, 'Perhaps this is what they mean when they refer to the "Hound of Heaven".'
I would never presume to say that I understand Swamiji. Even describing different facets of his vast and varied being seems unfair to him, since the description is nothing more than a viewing through the pinhole of my mind. Nevertheless, I shall try to verbalize to the best of my ability what it is that attracts me to Swami Vivekananda, although it is difficult to analyze.
Many people, when they think of Swamiji, think of strength. As I said earlier, it is this aspect of Swami Vivekananda that initially appealed to me also. But as time went on, I became more and more aware of his boundless compassion, his eagerness to provide shelter and guidance for those in need, and his unconditional love for all mankind. Swamiji, had the rare ability to come down to a person's level and lift him or her up from there, always appealing to the higher nature of man.
Swami Vivekananda's enormous strength was equalled only by his large heart. Mrs Allen expressed this side of him beautifully when she spoke of her relationship with him: '... It was the close contact with the Swami that I most deeply cherish... He was kindness itself to me. Most people emphasize his great power, the side of him that was so awe-inspiring. But there was this other side to him - his great love. He was like the
most tender and loving mother.'
To me, the most endearing quality of Swami Vivekananda was that he was completely unpretentious. He was not a 'goody-goody' nor was he overly pious. Nothing was said or done for show or to impress others. He refused to pander to what the audience wanted to hear. His every thought, word and deed were grounded in truth, and he never compromised to please others. He was what he was and if it bothered others, that was of little concern to him. His directness cut through all pretence to reveal the underlying essence. A classic example of this is the remark he made, to Maud Stumm during a very elegant party. Miss Stumm was looking around the room, obviously entranced by what she saw, when Swamiji turned to her and quietly said, 'Don't let it fool you.'2
Swami Vivekananda was a true realist in that he saw the world for what it was. To him, having realized the Truth, any attempt to clothe the great teachings of Vedanta in mystery was ridiculous. In Raja Yoga, he is quoted as saying, 'Anything that is secret and mysterious in these systems of Yoga should be at once rejected... Mystery-mongering weakens the human brain. It has well-nigh destroyed Yoga - one of the grandest of sciences... It is a striking fact that the more modern the commentator the greater the mistakes he makes, while the more ancient the writer the more rational he is. Most of the modern writers talk of all sorts of mystery. Thus Yoga fell into the hands of a few persons who made it a secret, instead of letting the full blaze of daylight and reason fall upon it... There is no mystery in what I teach... Just as you would take up any other science, exactly in the same manner you should take up this science for study."3 Swami Vivekananda would often say that religion should be approached like a science - do the experiment and achieve the result. This approach appealed to me, being scientifically oriented myself.
When we look back at what he did in America at the turn of the century, it is truly amazing. He had the unique ability to come to America and blend into a foreign culture. There were times when he must have felt very much alone. Indeed, he once remarked, 'There is none with whom I can speak of the Beloved, not one. You do not know, you cannot imagine the loneliness of it.'4
The extent of his broadness is astonishing. Accepted by the cream of American society, he easily adapted to our social and cultural customs and became one of us. He never felt that Americans could not understand the highest ideas or Vedanta, and he never hesitated in giving them these ideas, without one iota of condescension, in a language Westerners could easily understand.
While in this country, he had great name and fame, yet he was completely unattached to it all. As Mrs Blodgett said to herself after watching him being mobbed by women after a lecture at the Parliament of Religions, 'Well, my lad, if you can resist that onslaught, you are indeed a god.'''5 He not only resisted it, he was totally unaffected by it, proving his ability to be completely unmoved by both praise and blame. To a person living in a materialistic, pleasure-seeking society, this aspect of Swami, Vivekananda, born of his tremendous spiritual attainment is remarkable.
During the period when I was reading Swamiji's letters, I was going through much mental anguish. I had long thought of renouncing the world and joining the convent, since the world had lost much of its appeal to me. And yet, the faint hope of finding true happiness in the world through marriage, children and a career kept nagging at mc. At the time, I was doing genetic research on cancer cells, and the work was very exciting and stimulating, which made the decision even more difficult. I was quite torn between renouncing the world and remaining in it.
Then one day I read a letter written by Swami Vivekananda to Mary Hale in which he said: 'Now, my dear Mary, I wilI tell you a great lesson I have learnt in this life. It is this: "The higher is your ideal, the more miserable you are", for such a thing as an ideal cannot be attained in the world, or in this life even. He who wants perfection in the world is a madman, for it cannot be. How can you find the Infinite in the finite? ... Either take up one idea, clear the deck, and to it dedicate the life; or be contented and practical; lower the ideal, marry, and have a happy life. Either "Bhoga" or "Yoga" - either enjoy this life, or give up and be a Yogi; none can have both in one. Now or never, select quick.'6 I felt as though he were directing the words to me. Then and there, I made the final decision to renounce the world and devote the rest of my life to God.
To me, Swami Vivekananda is still living. He is more than just a historical figure whose literary works provide illumination and inspiration to thousands all over the world. He himself is also bestowing his grace. Swami Vivekananda has sheltered, guided and inspired me throughout my life. Now I have dedicated my life to him. It is the least I can do.
References:
Marie Louis Burke, Swami Vivekananda: His Second Visit to the West. Advaita Ashrama, Kolkata, p.414
Ibid, p.109
The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda. Vol 1, p. 134
Swami Vivekananda: His Second Visit to the West, p.421
Ibid, p.171
The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda. Vol. 8, p. 389-391
President's Page: Six attributes of Bhagawan - Swami Vimokshananda
(The term "Bhagawan" has been clearly defined by our saints and sages. In this article Swami Vimokshananda looks at this definition and why we refer to Sri Ramakrishna as "Bhagawan". This article is based on a lecture, delivered by Swamiji during one of the weekly Saturday satsangs held at the Centre, Glen Anil.)
In our satsangs whenever we sing bhajans (devotional songs), in-between two bhajans we make pranams (salutations) to Bhagawan Sri Ramakrishna, Pawana Suta Hanuman and Amba Ma. We hail victory to these three. We say Bhagawan Sri Ramakrishna, Bhagawan Sri Krishna, Bhagawan Sri Ramachandra and so forth to any number of deities we pray to.
What is this "Bhagawan"? Is there any special meaning attached to this term ? Generally we translate this as "God" in English but then you know the word "God" seems to be lacking in some substance which the word "Bhagawan" denotes. Perhaps this word "God" may be equivalent to Ishwara in Indian languages. Somehow there`s no word for it in English. So we are using the very word "Bhagawan" for God. What is Bhagawan? "Bhagavat" - one who has Bhaga, he is called Bhagawan; if feminine then we say Bhagawati.
What are the qualities that are implied by the word Bhaga? Our saints and sages, particularly Vaishnava acharyas, have dealt with this in an extraordinary way. They say for someone to be called "Bhagawan" or "Bhagawati", they must possess six divine qualities. What are these qualities? One is Jnana (knowledge), second is Shakti (power), third is Bala (strength), fourth is Aishwarya (wealth), fifth is Tejas (effulgence) and sixth is Virya (valour).
All these 6 qualities must be there. Sri Jiva Goswami, a disciple of Sri Chaitanya, explains the following verse in his works, Gopala Champu (Purva 15.73) and Bhagavata Sandarbha (46.10) :
The substantives of the word "bhagavat" are unlimited (asheshatah) knowledge (jnana), power (shakti), strength (bala), wealth (aishwarya), valour (virya), effulgence (tejas), without (bina), insignificant (heyair), qualities (gunadibhih). All the six qualities must be present, no doubt, but the acharya says there are two conditions that must also be complied with. Simply because all the six qualities are in you, I cannot call you Bhagawan. The first condition is in the first sentence ‘asheshatah'. In the second sentence he gives the next condition as ‘bina heyair gunadibhih'.
What are these? The six qualities must be asheshatah. Asheshatah means there is no end, infinite. If all the six qualities are present in one person finitely then he cannot be called Bhagawan. In addition, the next condition ‘bina heyair gunadibhih', which means that there must not be any deficiency in these qualities, must also be met.
In Sri Ramakrishna`s life we find wonderful examples of each of these 6 qualities. This is why Swami Vivekananda called his Master ‘Bhagawan'. Swami Vivekananda wrote a poem on Sri Ramakrishna. The poem (referred to as a ‘stotram' in Sanskrit) starting with ‘om hrim ritam' is sung every evening during the vesper service (arati). You know this poem consists of several stanzas. Each stanza has got four lines. The fourth line is common in each stanza. If you take out the first syllable of each line from the first three lines of each stanza, and write it down you get a great mantra. The mantra is ‘Om Namo Bhagawate Ramakrishnaya'.
Sri Ramakrishna was a divine incarnation. His talks were recorded by one of his householder disciples, Sri Mahendra Nath Gupta, popularly known as M.
While talking to M one day, Sri Ramakrishna said: "Do you know why God incarnates Himself as a man? It is because through a human body one can hear His words. He sports through it. He tastes divine bliss through a human body. But through his other devotees God manifests only a small part of Himself. A devotee is like something you get a little juice from after much sucking - like a flower you get a drop of honey from after much sucking."
Nothing is impossible for Bhagawan. He is not only all intelligence but also all powerful. No one can fully know His true nature and everything of Him cannot be predicted by anyone. It is said that once there lived two yogis. These yogis were practicing hard austerities. Their purpose was to realise Bhagawan. One day Narada, the divine sage, was passing by their hermitage. The first yogi was pleased to see Narada. He asked Narada, "Are you coming from Vaikuntha?" Narada replied, "Yes, That is so." The yogi said, "Do tell me what Lord Narayana was doing in Vaikuntha when you saw Him." Narada replied, "I saw Lord Vishnu playing, by making camels and elephants pass through the eye of a needle." At this the yogi exclaimed, "Ah! There is nothing in it to marvel at. Nothing is impossible for God!" But the other yogi observed, "Oh nonsense! That is impossible! It only shows, O Narada, that you have never been to the Lord's abode." Sri Ramakrishna says the first yogi was a real bhakta (devotee) and had the faith of a child. He knew that for God everything is possible.
The six attributes of Bhagawan are infinite in nature. No one can contain within him the realisation of all His glories and excellences. Sri Ramakrishna was fond of quoting analogies about ‘sugar and an ant and ‘a patient and water'.
He said, in his inimitable style, that Bhagawan is like a hill of sugar. A small ant goes to the hill and fetches from it a tiny grain of sugar. A bigger ant also fetches a grain of sugar but considerably larger in size. However, the hill remains as large as ever. The devotees of God are like ants but can never exhaust the wonderful nature of God. Likewise a patient in high fever and excessively thirsty, imagines that he can drink a sea of water, but when the fever subsides and he regains his normal temperature, he can barely take a single glassful of water. His thirst is easily quenched with even a very small quantity of water.
A devotee can imagine that he can receive the whole of the Infinite God within his heart but a single ray of divine light becomes sufficient to flood him with the eternal bliss of God. That the Infinity cannot be realised in full measure is explained by Sri Ramakrishna through the following parable.
A dyer had his own way of dying clothes. He would ask the customer, "In what colour do you want your clothes to be dyed?" If he said red, the dyer dipped the cloth in his tub and brought it out saying, "Here is your cloth dyed red." Another wanted his cloth dyed yellow. The dyer dipped it in the same tub, and when he brought it up, it was dyed yellow. In the same way, when some other colour was wanted - blue or orange, violet or green - the same tub was used with the like result. A customer who was watching all this came up to the dyer and said, "My friend, I am not fond of any one colour. I desire to consult your taste and should like to have my cloth dyed just as you please. I want the colour in which you have dyed yourself."
So, Sri Ramakrishna says that the Lord manifests Himself with form or without form by any of his attributes just according to the need of the devotee. The Divine Dyer alone knows in which colour He has dyed Himself. The Lord is not bound by any limitation.
To the Ramakrishna
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