Self-Offering
A talk by Sri Chinmoy
to his New York Centre after reading out his New Year’s Message for 1976
You all know what self-offering is. It is my fervent prayer to your souls that you increase your self-offering in the new year. Please try to increase the capacity of your self-offering to the Supreme. Self-offering is our constant remembrance of the Supreme. The best self-offering is to remember the Supreme all the time. Every day, early in the morning, please try to empty your inner vessel. Then I shall fill it with Light, Love and Concern.
Now I wish each of you to stand up for a second and tell what you would like to achieve next year individually or collectively for the Centre, the mission or yourself. Please tell one most significant thing that you will try to do next year — either individually or collectively. You can say that you are going to conquer a particular weakness. This is individual achievement, but your individual progress becomes the progress of the mission. If you become a better seeker, that becomes an achievement of the Centre. Or you can say you are going to do something significant for the mission. Again, if you do something for the mission, automatically it becomes your individual progress. This year you have suffered, everybody has suffered. Next year, if you can conquer your weaknesses or achieve something, then you are not going to suffer.
Published in Sri Chinmoy Speaks, part 6
My Sweet Father-Lord, Where are You?
by Sri Chinmoy
Prayers for individual Japanese students of his, during a Christmas trip visit to Japan
My Lord Supreme,
May I see Your Beauty's Eye
And
Feel Your Duty's Heart
Everywhere —
Wherever I go.
My Lord Supreme,
I know, I know
That my present difficulties
Will soon be removed
By Your infinite Compassion-Light
And
Your Illumination-Salvation.
My Lord Beloved Supreme,
May I keep my heart-door open,
Wide open,
Every hour, every minute
And every second
For You to enter
With Your Compassion infinite
And play all the time
Inside my heart-garden.
My Lord Supreme,
May my curiosity about spirituality
Come to an end.
May my heart's sleepless hunger for You
Come to the fore
And make You feel that I am all ready
For You, only for You.
My Lord Beloved Supreme,
In my previous incarnations
I pleased You
With my life's strict discipline-light.
In this incarnation
I would like to please You
With my heart's sleepless surrender-delight
To Your Vision transcendental
And
Your manifestation universal.
My Lord Beloved Supreme,
My heart's mounting cries
And
My life's spreading smiles
Are my sacred gifts
Which I am placing
At Your Compassion-Feet
So that at every moment
I can please You
And fulfil You
In Your own Way.
My Lord Supreme,
I have given You this time
Bravely
What I have long cherished:
My mind of confusion-night.
In return, You have given me
What You eternally are:
Your Heart's Compassion-Illumination,
Compassion-Perfection
And
Compassion-Satisfaction.
My Lord Supreme,
In my previous incarnations,
My hungry heart used to cry and cry
For Your Compassion-Nectar.
In this incarnation,
My life is smiling sleeplessly
At Your Compassion-Heart,
At Your Perfection-Feet
And
At Your Oneness-fulfilled Heart-Home.
My Lord Supreme,
In my previous life You wanted me
To be materially successful
And earthly great.
Therefore, You placed me into
A royal family.
But in this incarnation
You are telling me
That to be spiritually rich
Is the most important thing.
If I can be spiritually rich,
Only then will I be able to please You
Most satisfactorily.
My Lord, may Thy Will be fulfilled
As soon as possible in and through me.
My Lord Supreme,
You have removed my mind's doubts,
My mind's confusion-darkness
And
My mind's anxiety-clouds.
You have replaced them
With climbing aspiration-cries,
With glowing dedication-smiles
And
With Your ever-fulfilling Love and Joy.
My Lord Supreme,
The time has come for me
To please You in Your own Way —
To make my surrender and oneness complete
In my own secret and sacred heart-room
And
To become a choice instrument of Yours.
My Lord Supreme,
My unconscious fear of You
Takes me away from You,
But my conscious faith in You
And
My conscious love for You
Not only bring me back to You
But also make me feel
That Your Compassion-Light
Is closer than the closest.
Soon You will make me feel
That throughout Eternity
Your Compassion and my surrender
Will be inseparable friends
For Your complete Satisfaction
And my complete fulfilment.
My Lord Supreme,
You have given me
A mind that longs for Truth,
Your Truth,
For You as the Truth Supreme.
My Lord Supreme,
You have given me
A heart that cries for Your Heart,
Only Your Heart.
You have made me feel
That my tiny drop-heart
Will eventually become one,
Inseparably one,
With Your larger than the largest
Compassion-flooded Ocean of Delight.
My Lord Supreme,
With Your infinite Compassion
You are making me feel
This Truth sublime, illumining
And all-fulfilling.
My sweet Father-Lord,
Where are You?
How is it that I cannot see You
All the time,
Or at least when I want to see You?
“My sweet child,
Your soul and I play hide-and-seek.
We enjoy this game immensely.
Now is the time for you to seek Me
And for Me to hide.
But soon you will try to hide from Me
And I will seek you out.
Then we shall end
Our hide-and-seek game.
I shall transform your little,
Earthly life-plant
Into a Heavenly-blossomed life-tree.”
My Lord Supreme,
You have given me a heart
That cries for You.
You have given me a life
That wants to serve You.
But, my Lord, is there any way
That I can run fast, faster, fastest
In my heart of aspiration
And in my life of dedication?“Yes, My child, there is a way,
And this way is very, very simple
And very direct.
This way is the way
Of your gratitude-offering to Me.
The more you can offer
Your gratitude-heart and gratitude-life
To Me,
The sooner you will be able to run
Faster than the fastest
In your heart of aspiration
And in your life of dedication.”
My Lord Supreme,
When I pray to You,
I see the sky lifting me up
High, higher, highest.
When I meditate on You,
I see the same sky descending
Slowly, steadily and unerringly
And touching my earth-existence
Most compassionately.
My Lord Supreme, You are telling me
Not to be afraid of the Unknown,
But to love the Unknown
And become one with the Unknown,
For this unknown Reality
Will not remain forever unknown,
And my life's perfection
And my heart's satisfaction
Will grow in it.
My Lord, make me ready
And make me worthy
Of Your blessingful Promise to me.
My Lord Supreme,
You are telling me that
My heart's inner cry
And
My life's hunger for You
Must have a slow, steady
And unerring pace.
The crown of spirituality
Cannot be achieved overnight,
In the twinkling of an eye.
Slowly, steadily and unerringly,
I shall abide by Your
Compassion-Decision about my life,
For I must be fully ready
Before the God-Hour strikes for me.
Once the God-Hour strikes,
My life has to respond immediately.
My Lord Supreme, from today on
I shall wait for Your Arrival
With the utmost confidence
In Your choice Hour.
May Your Compassion and Satisfaction
Climb up and down
Inside my life's patience-tree.
My Lord Supreme,
I do not know
What You have in mind for me.
I do not know
And I do not want to know.
I have only one prayer to You:
That I not be afraid
In my own spiritual life,
So that, like a divine warrior,
I can conquer my mind's giant doubts
And my life's anxiety-mountains.
I want to be what You want me to be:
A self-giving and perfect instrument
Of Your highest Vision for earth.
My Lord Supreme,
My Beloved Supreme,
In my previous incarnation
You showered on me
Your most powerful Blessing-Light.
I cried and cried and cried
While receiving from You
Your immortal Treasures.
In the evening of my life,
In that incarnation,
I claimed You as my own, very own.
In this incarnation,
At my journey's dawn,
I see myself seated inside
Your infinite Compassion-Heart-Garden,
And I see that You are giving me
The capacity to enjoy
The celestial Beauty
And the celestial Fragrance
Of Your Heart-Garden.
My Lord Beloved Supreme,
You have given me a childlike heart.
In my previous incarnations also
You gave me a childlike heart,
And I know that You will always give me
A childlike heart.
My Lord Beloved Supreme,
Do tell me why You gave me,
Have given me and will forever give me
A childlike heart.“My child, your childlike heart
Is My Divinity's most special Boon.
It is in and through this most illumining
And fulfilling Boon
That I see, I grow into and I become one with
My own universe.
Only a childlike heart can please Me.
Only a childlike heart can fulfil Me.
Only a childlike heart will reach
My Immortality's highest Height.”
My Lord Supreme,
My mind wants outer education.
My heart wants inner education.
My mind wants to see the Truth
In its own way.
My heart wants to feel the Truth
The way the Truth wants to be known
And felt.
My Lord Supreme,
You want my inner education
To come first and foremost in my life.
Make me strong, make me confident
So that I can please You at every moment
By having You as my only Teacher
In my life's inner school.
I know that when I study
In my heart's school,
You will not only teach me,
But also make me feel
That I will be able to claim
Your infinite Wisdom-Light-Ocean
As my own, very own.
My Lord Supreme,
You have given me a simplicity-mind
And a purity-heart unconditionally.
What shall I give You in return
Soulfully?“My sweet child,
You do not have to give Me anything
In return.
Just feel that I shall do everything
In you and for you in My own Way
In accordance with My Vision's
Choice Hour.
From this moment on may your life
And your heart
Become only a garland
Of gratitude-satisfaction.”
My Lord Supreme,
You have taken me out of
Ignorance-forest.
You have taken me out of
Ignorance-clay.
You have taken me out of
Ignorance-destruction.
Now You have placed me
At Your Lotus-Feet.
Therefore, I am safe,
Permanently safe.
May my own heart-lotus
Petal by petal blossom
And offer its gratitude-fragrance
To You,
To Your entire creation.
May my heart of love,
May my life of gratitude,
May my entire earthly reality
Become an unconditional surrender-river
To flow into
Your Infinity's Compassion-Ocean,
Your Immortality's Satisfaction-Ocean.
My Lord Supreme, how happy I am
To claim You, only You, only You,
As my own, very own.
My Lord Supreme,
Who am I?
Do tell me."My child,
You are My Eternity's Dream-boat.
You are My Eternity's Dream-passenger
And
You are My Eternity's Vision-partner.
You have the body,
But you are the soul-consciousness.
Your earthly mind-possession
You have not claimed and should not claim.
Only claim your heart as your own.
If you remain in the heart,
You will remain My friend,
My Eternity's friend,
And your soul will remain forever
My most satisfied and most satisfying wealth.
If you can bring to the fore
Your soul-consciousness,
You will please Me infinitely more
Than even your own heart
Can ever imagine.
Remain in the soul, remain in the soul,
Forever and forever.
Published in My Sweet Father-Lord, Where Are You?
Everybody Cannot be Treated in the Same Way
A talk by Sri Chinmoy
in Xiamen, China
I will be so grateful to whoever takes care of one special individual who has come to our path. I have such love, affection and concern for him. This is my disciples’ love for me. When I ask them to treat someone in a special way, if their love is unconditional, they apply that unconditional love to the person that I name.
Everybody cannot be treated in the same way. If everybody has to be the same height, then somebody’s head will have to be cut off, and somebody else will have to be lifted up, so that they can become equal. This kind of thing we cannot do. This disciple has to be treated with special care. I really would like my disciples to take care of him unconditionally. That will be their service to me. Some disciples have money-power and heart-power. How many people they are saving with their money-power and heart-power! In the same way, I wish my disciples to give very special attention to this individual. With some people, we do not have to be strict.
In the Ashram, the Mother was very strict. When people got a job, even my brothers and sisters, they remained for thirty or forty years in the same place. One would be in the bakery, one would be in the laundry, one would be in the weaving section, one would be in the garden.
For Sri Chinmoy it was totally different. Usually it was very difficult to change one’s work, but I worked in seven or eight departments. I started with electricity. I continued for perhaps two years. Then in the cottage industry I worked with hand-made paper and dyeing, and then with coconut oil. Then came carpentry, and then I went to wash dishes. I liked that job very much. After that I used to work in the library.
Each time I told the Mother, “I do not like this job.”
The Mother said, “Do you have any complaint?”
I said, “I have no complaint, but I do not like it.” In my case, the Mother made an exception. All the others had great difficulty in changing their work. Seven or eight jobs I had. After two years or six months, I changed my job.
The job that I liked most was washing the dishes, because I had no responsibility. But that job I could not continue, because the Ashram secretary saw me there once or twice, and he did not like to see me washing dishes. He wanted me to be his secretary. I lost all my freedom when I became Nolini’s secretary. Before that I was like a vagabond. I would work for three or four hours and then go. But when I worked for Nolini, in the morning I started, and I worked the whole day. There was no day, no night. At night I would go to the meditation hall to meditate, and at 9:30 he would come with a letter, and I would have to run. All my freedom went away.
Before that, in seven or eight departments when I worked, if I did not like the job, the Mother said, “Fine, fine, fine.” I did not make any complaints against the bosses. They were so kind, so kind. They never cared about my work. Again, I was an exception. If I could not do a particular job, they would say, “Fine, fine — just come and be here. Just come and sit.” There were some other workers, and my job was only to supervise the workers and read books. Sri Aurobindo’s Savitri I read, and occasionally I looked up just to see if people were working.
I was spoilt; I got that kind of exceptional treatment. Everybody cannot be the same. Among my disciples also, out of six thousand people, I am asking for special treatment for only very few individuals. Every rule admits of exceptions. If, out of thousands of people, two or three individuals the Master wants to deal with in a different way, should not some disciples come to the Master’s rescue?
One boss could not believe that I did not want to work for him. He was very huge! He took me to his house and said, “You have made complaints against me.”
I said, “No, I have not made complaints.”
“All right, since you have left me, I am going to punish you.” He made me sit, and he gave me so much food! His wife and children were all very fond of me. The boss started eating, and he said, “Now eat! Since you are not going to work for me any more, this is the punishment.” Such was his affection for me.
Another boss, my second boss, came from Chittagong. He was older than me by eighteen years or more. After I came to America, I went to Pondicherry a number of times. During one of my visits I was chatting with my sisters and brothers and a few friends. They had all come to see me, and we were talking and talking. Then this former boss came with some flowers. As usual, while chatting I was sitting in a relaxed way. The boss came up to me and placed the flowers at my feet! Everybody was so surprised.
I said, “What are you doing?”
After putting the flowers at my feet, he looked at me. To my brothers and sisters he said, “You do not know who he is. I can see — I know who he is.” He said that I was a great yogi. This was my second boss.
The first boss was so kind to me. One day he grabbed my hands and said, “Every day I am praying for you to get the Nobel Prize. You must get the Nobel Prize.” Every evening he used to pray for me to get the Nobel Prize. Now he is in Heaven. This was my first boss.
I have told you about my third boss. How affectionate he was. At his place a lady declared that I am an Avatar.
Again I am coming back to the same point. Everybody cannot be treated in the same way. Thousands of people can be treated in one way, but some individuals can be treated in a different way.
There were two thousand members of the Sri Aurobindo Ashram, and many servants. Out of two thousand people, why did the Mother want me to meditate in Sri Aurobindo’s room? I was the only one. I was invited to come, not once a month, but every day, at six o’clock in the morning. They showed me how to open the door and I started meditating. How could I get that kind of treatment? I was meditating right in front of Sri Aurobindo’s door. Sometimes the Mother would stand behind me, and I would make my spinal cord very straight! Then she would look at me and give me a smile.
Everybody cannot be treated in the same way. In my family, everybody was so indulgent to me. When it came to me, they never showed strictness.
Published in Devotion Becomes a Magnet
Once You Lavish Affection
A family story, told by Sri Chinmoy in Antalya, Turkey
I have told this story, or fragments of this story, many times. Now it is my wish that it come out in book form.
My mother had two sisters. They were her younger sisters. The youngest one left behind two sons when she passed away. Her husband had passed earlier. When she left the body, those sons were teenagers. Everybody in our family loved those two brothers. They were very, very close to our family.
The older one, the hero of this story, was in between my brothers Hriday and Chitta in age. His nickname was Khudha. Khudha means “hunger.” He entered into politics and became a revolutionary. Naturally he was arrested, and he was in prison for a year. I was, I believe, two years old then. On the day he was released, he thought of me. I was the youngest in the family. He put on his suit and tie. Then he hid a tiny, cute animal for me. He put it on his head and put a hat over it. He took it from the right place — from jail! Then, so happily he came to our place.
Khudha’s younger brother, whose name was Bhuta, was innocence incarnate. He was so nice! He could jump from a very high roof, and nothing happened to him, absolutely nothing.
Khudha was extremely fond of each and every member of our family, and our family was also extremely fond of him. My parents loved him deeply.
My mother’s other sister was older than the mother of this hero. She was also very fond of Khudha. This aunt of mine, who lived for 104 years, had only one question each time I went to see her. First she would grab my hands and put them on her head, and then she would say, “Father, when am I going to die? When am I going to die?”
I said, “How can I tell when you are going to die?”
Luckily enough, during one of my visits to Pondicherry, I went to see her at around 7:30 in the evening, and as usual I blessed her. She recited three of her poems. Nobody could understand a word. She used to brag that she had written eight or ten poems in her entire life. Then, at around two o’clock in the morning, she passed away. I think she waited for my blessings.
This aunt was very, very fond of our family. Her husband was quite rich. Then he passed away. It was one of her daughters, Pushpita, to whom I showed my occult power for the first time. In an affectionate way, she wanted to kick me! I have told the whole story. She lifted up one leg and she was holding on to a pipe. Then she could not bring her leg down. Although she was very, very fond of me, she could not recognise me when I spent half an hour with her the last time I saw her. Three weeks later she wanted to know why I was not sending her a photograph from my visit with her! She had been silent, in a coma, and then she remembered me. She was very, very kind and very, very affectionate. She died at the age of ninety-four.
To come back to the story, Khudha was a vagabond. He could not keep a job for more than three months. Wherever he went, he would be fired, fired, fired! He was a character. That aunt of mine who died at the age of 104 was very affectionate and compassionate to him.
It is not that Khudha was crazy. He was quite normal. He went to college, but he was a revolutionary! If somebody enjoys what we call mischievous pranks, what are you going to do? Sometimes mischief entered into his brain, so he did all kinds of things.
In our family, Hriday declared, “No marriage,” Chitta declared, “No marriage,” and Arpita declared, “No marriage.” The others were young at that time. But Khudha agreed to get married. The whole family was in the seventh Heaven of delight because he agreed to get married.
Finally the time came for Khudha to get married. The husband and wife were very happy. His wife, whose name was Jyoti, was absolutely affection incarnate in the family. She used to cook for everybody. Although we had a cook, she herself used to cook.
Once Khudha asked that aunt of ours for a large amount of money. She said, “I cannot give you that amount, but I will give you some.” Khudha wanted more money, so he decided to punish her! It was the time of the Durga Puja festival. Everybody would come to the village from the town. Usually every weekend my father used to come to the village. During the rest of the week he lived in the town. Since it was the time of the Durga Puja festival, the guards and other workers at our bank all went home. My cousin Khudha wanted to guard the bank. He was so nice, so kind, so affectionate. My father agreed that he could stay and guard the bank.
Alas, at night Khudha brought in a locksmith! Very nicely the locksmith opened up the safe. Khudha knew the things that did not belong to our family, so most of those he did not touch. Very little he took from our family, but from that old lady, our aunt, he took all her jewellery and everything else that she kept in the safe. He took those things away to punish her. How compassionate she was to him! But this was how he punished her: he took away everything of hers. He took only a little bit from our family.
My great-uncle wanted to sue Khudha, but my father said, “Oh no, I cannot, I cannot! I cannot take him to court — he is like my son. If Hriday had done this kind of thing, I could not have taken him to court. There will be no punishment for Khudha.”
Khudha’s wife, Jyoti, was so ashamed. She cried and cried. She went back to her parents’ place. My father was so kind and affectionate to her, but she said that she could not show her face to our family. She went back to her own parents.
Then Khudha decided to punish my aunt even more. He lived in a village about three miles away from our place. I went there so many times. From there he came to my aunt’s place, crying, with the message that my father had got an electric shock and died. Khudha said my father’s dead body had been taken to our village. Khudha was crying and crying!
When my aunt heard this, she believed Khudha. She came all the way, crying and weeping, to our place. When she was about eight hundred metres away, she saw our family doctor. She knew our family doctor well. The family doctor asked, “Why are you crying?”
She said, “You do not know what has happened?” Then she gave him the news about my father.
The doctor said, “No, no! Just now I saw his wife near their house, reading.” Still my aunt would not believe the doctor. She came crying, crying, crying to our house. My mother was basking in the sun and reading either the Mahabharata or the Ramayana. She used to do that when I was a little boy. When my mother wanted me to sleep, she would read out loud. When she felt that I was fast asleep, she would stop reading. But I was so naughty. I only pretended that I was fast asleep. Then, when she herself fell asleep, I ran into our garden. We had a very big garden, and from there I snatched mangoes and all kinds of fruits. After an hour or so my mother would wake up, and I was nowhere to be found. Our famous servant, whose name was Kailash, was all mischief. He was my accomplice.
To come back to the story, when my aunt reached our house, she was hysterical. She was screaming at my mother. How was it that my mother was not crying? My mother could not believe what she was saying.
At that time Khudha was fifty metres away. He came up to my mother and my aunt and showed off. He said he wanted to punish my aunt because she was not giving him enough money. What a character!
When Khudha came out of jail after his revolutionary activities, he tried to work here and there, but he was not successful. Then my father gave him money. He wanted to buy all kinds of fruits and sell them, but in that field also he was not successful. He was not successful in anything. It was beneath his dignity to work anywhere.
In spite of Khudha’s behaviour, our whole family liked him. One day he was inspired to dance. He entered into my sister’s room and took a petticoat. He started dancing and making everybody laugh and laugh! Everybody liked him.
My mother’s eldest brother was so fond of my father. When he came to learn that our bank had been robbed, he said, “O my God, how will you meet with the expenses? How will you bring up the family? How will you do it?”
My father said, “We have property, so much property! We have money. He has stolen next to nothing from us.” But my mother’s eldest brother would not believe my father. He thought that we had become very poor overnight. Alas, alas, alas! It was too much for him — he committed suicide. A train was fast approaching. People threw hotter than the hottest water to stop him, but he did not care. He jumped onto the track in front of the train and died. This was his fate.
This uncle of mine had three daughters. One daughter’s name was Shephali. She was at that time at our place. She knew what had happened. My mother was crying, weeping and practically turning somersaults with grief. It was too much for her. But who was consoling her? My cousin, Shephali. Her own father had died, and now she was consoling her father’s sister, since at that time my sisters Lily and Arpita were in Pondicherry. This was how this uncle’s life ended.
That maternal uncle was so fond of my father. He used to bring me, and my father also, three gifts of the same type. In my case, the first one I used to hold, and then perhaps I did not like it, so I threw it away. The second one I broke, because I wanted to see how it was made — I ruined it! The third one I kept.
I had a cousin who was the youngest daughter of this maternal uncle. Her name was Dipali. She was two years younger than I. One day she was crying and crying for a gold chain. Her family was not giving her a real gold chain. At that time I was nine years old and she was seven, perhaps. I said, “I will give you a gold chain.” I did not say, “When I become rich” — I said, “When I become great, I will give you one.” Everybody laughed! The story was buried in oblivion. Many years later I was in America. She had married somebody very rich and she had three or four children. At that time she reminded my sister Lily, “Madal promised me a gold chain! He has to keep his promise!” She did not need my gift, but affection is like that. I gave money to my sister, and she got a very, very nice necklace for Dipali.
Here is another incident. My father used to smoke cigarettes, but on rare occasions he smoked an Indian hookah. For two days a week, when my father was home, my poor mother could not smoke. From Friday evening until Sunday morning, she did not dare to smoke. She had such respect for my father! But she used to take lots of betel nut, and her lips became all red.
That uncle of mine never smoked. He begged and begged and begged my father to stop smoking. My father never listened to him. But then, the day my uncle committed suicide, my father said, “That is it!” My father lived for another two years or so. From that day on, he did not smoke at all. He gave up smoking. My father said, “I have to fulfil his request.”
I was very fond of going to the court. It was at the top of a hill. It was called Kachari. I went there only to see the thieves, who were chained. I had such curiosity to see the thieves and how they behaved. What a habit, or hobby!
Once, after my father passed away, I went to the court, and whom did I see? Khudha! He grabbed me with such affection and said, “Tell your mother I have no money. I am living only on potatoes. Please tell your mother to send me some money. I am living on potatoes!”
He was so much stronger than I was. What could I do? I went home and told my mother. My mother was furious! But her anger lasted only for three or four minutes. Then she started crying because he had no money. She asked me, “Did he not tell you where he lives?”
I said, “He did not tell me. He asked me only to tell you to send him some money.” My mother cried and cried. We had another servant whose name was Phani. He lived in the same village as Khudha. My mother gave Phani some money to give to Khudha.
Family, family, family! We Bengalis are made of affection.
My aunt had a daughter whose name was Vijali. She lived in Patiya, which was five miles away from our place. Her husband was so sweet, so affectionate. He was a lawyer. He used to practise in the court. One afternoon he came back from the court, climbed up a tree and remained there until the evening. He would not come down. From there he did all kinds of things. He would not come down. He was absolutely all right, but all of a sudden something happened inside his brain. Finally, at night he came down and entered into a pond. There he died. This is also our family story. He was so kind, so affectionate.
In this way our family life went on. I had no connection with Khudha after we came to Pondicherry; it was all finished.
Many, many years later, a young medical doctor was transferred from Calcutta to the Pondicherry General Hospital. At that time I was living in America. Somehow he knew that our whole family was living in the Ashram. One evening he came to our place, where my sister lived. He started shouting, “Grandmother, Grandmother, Grandmother!” Who was his grandmother? My aunt was there. He came up to her and embraced her as his grandmother. My aunt started screaming, insulting and scolding him. She said, “What are you saying? I am not your grandmother!”
He said, “Oh yes, you are my grandmother!” He proved it. He told her who he was. Then my aunt embraced him like a grandmother and completely forgave his father, Khudha. Before, she had taken an oath that she would never forgive Khudha, because of how he tortured our family, specially when he lied and said that my father had died.
How bad Khudha was! But our Bengali life is such that, no matter what someone does, once you lavish affection on him, even though he may be a scoundrel, it is very difficult to withdraw that affection. My aunt started to become very attached to this young fellow. Once a week he would come to eat at our place. Then his mother came, without even informing anyone, although one needed permission to come to the Sri Aurobindo Ashram in Pondicherry. She came, and her son told her where our house was. My sister Lily was so overjoyed to see her! This was our family reunion. She stayed at our place for about two months.
Now the story ends. When I was ten or eleven years old I saw Khudha for the last time. His wife, Jyoti, said that her husband was so fond of me. He used to say, “I knew all along that our Madal would be another great spiritual figure. His Guru was Aurobindo Ghosh.” Khudha never said “Sri Aurobindo.” Those revolutionaries never called him Sri Aurobindo; it was always Aurobindo Ghosh. Khudha used to talk about Aurobindo Ghosh and Madal, and he started saying that he saw how great I was when I was an infant, and so many other things. By that time I had quite a few disciples, so he knew about my life. He said, “Aurobindo Ghosh and Madal Ghose come from the same place.”
From where to where this story goes! The son of the scoundrel was able to reconcile our whole family. Khudha was absolutely notorious, but nobody lost an iota of affection for him. This was our family.
Published in Devotion Becomes a Magnet