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Preface

 

Sri Kapali Sastry (1886-1953) was a highly respected Vedic scholar and Sanskrit authority. Even after he became Sri Aurobindo’s disciple and entered the Ashram, he continued to write many commentaries and definitive works. The young Chinmoy had the immense good fortune to study under him in the Ashram school and the following anecdotes capture his love and respect for this great soul. – Vidagdha

 

 

1.

 

Chinmoy’s full-length play The Descent of the Blue, which was published serially in the Mother India from 1958 to 1962, contains the following scene depicting the momentous day in Kapali Sastry’s life when he was accepted by Sri Aurobindo as his disciple.

 

Act XI, Scene 3
 

(1923. Pondicherry. Sri Aurobindo’s residence.)

(Enter T.V. Kapali Sastri, an eminent Sanskrit scholar of South India.)
 

KAPALI: (Bowing his head to Sri Aurobindo) Sir, six years back when I first came to you I asked you about India’s possibilities and you gave me an inspiring answer, ‘not possibility but certainty.’ This time you are giving me another inspiring thing – your golden complexion. It is no longer deep-brown as before. In you, Yoga incarnate carries now its true complexion.

Now I have come, my mind made up once for all, to throw myself at your feet and upon your Grace for ever. Pray how should I proceed in the first step of your Yoga?

SRI AUROBINDO: My Yoga aims at transformation of the whole being, not excluding the physical.

KAPALI: How and where to begin?

SRI AUROBINDO: One has to bring the Divine Consciousness right down into the very cells.

KAPALI: Too difficult even to think of. But I cannot try the too-hard so soon. I repeat I throw myself at your feet and upon your Grace, now and for ever. Do with me as you please.

(Sri Aurobindo gives a gracious smile and a nodding assent. With a parting pranam Kapali leaves the Master’s presence, profoundly happy.)

 

2.

An early photograph of Kapali Sastry.

Prabhakar was my first Sanskrit teacher. Then I got a promotion to South India’s great Sanskrit scholar Kapali Sastry. He was an authority, specially on the Rig Veda. Sri Aurobindo said such nice things about him.

This story happened in 1945. I had written some prayers in English. They came from the very depths of my heart. I was a seeker and I shall always remain an eternal seeker, so these prayers came from the seeker in me.

I liked this particular teacher very much. He was extremely kind to me and full of affection for me. I went to his house and showed him these prayers. They numbered about twenty. He liked them immensely. Then he said to me, “Who has written them?”

          I said, “I wrote them.”

          He asked, “Is it true?”

          I replied, “Yes.”

          He said, “Always we have to know who writes.”

          I said again, “I wrote them.”

Then he said, “Chinmoy, you are just a young fellow. If somebody had told me that Mother had written these prayers, my faith in the Mother would have increased so much! I would have immediately touched her feet and offered her all my love, adoration and devotion because they are so beautiful, so soulful. But you are just a little kid, so I cannot do that. I know who you are. Instead of touching your feet, I can only bless you.”

He patted me on the shoulder and congratulated me because I wrote those prayers. I still have them in my Indian notebooks.

What a wonderful teacher! He was absolutely right. Always we have to know who has written the words or who has said the words. If a thief says, “Do not steal, do not tell lies,” are you going to listen to him? The very next moment he himself will go and steal and tell lies and everything. But if a saint says, “Do not steal,” then there is a force behind it. The force carries through the words. The same thing can be said by different people but you have to know the source.

 

3.

This next story happened a few months later. In those days, in December, we used to have an annual cultural function at the Ashram. My Sanskrit teacher, Kapali Sastry, had translated Sri Aurobindo’s poem “Who” into Sanskrit. In English, the poem begins,

          In the blue of the sky, in the green of the forest,

          Whose is the Hand that has painted the glow?

I like this poem so much. Hundreds and hundreds of times I used to recite it – sometimes softly, sometimes forcefully.

Anyway, my teacher was teaching the class to recite the Sanskrit words in the South Indian style. Unfortunately, on that occasion I became the worst student because I did not like his way at all. He wanted me to join the group but I was not getting any joy, so I was not learning his way. I was making mistakes, perhaps deliberately, God alone knows.

This teacher had such affection for me, but I was not doing it the way it should be done. So he asked me to recite it for him in my own way. The way I recite poems, Bengali and Sanskrit, is pure Tagore style. He said, “It is useless.” Then he kicked me out of the group. Since I could not learn his way, he threw me out.

Mother used to watch the final rehearsal of each group. If she approved the performance, then only you could be in the programme. So my teacher took about twenty students to recite the poem in front of the Mother. Many Ashramites were also there listening and I was among the audience. I was in a very good consciousness, not at all jealous!

Mother listened to their recitation, but she did not like it at all. Still, she graciously gave him another chance. She said to this greatest scholar, “Next week you come back to me with your group. They need improvement.”

Then my poor teacher came up to me and said, “Chinmoy, I have failed. Now you do it in your own way. Since the Mother did not approve of my way, let us try yours.”

In the back of his mind, he never thought, even for a second, that Mother would be pleased with my style. So I said to him, “If you are not pleased with my way, why are you accepting it? If you yourself do not like it, it is useless for me to teach others.”

He said, “I am a little bit sad and embarrassed. But I really want you to try. Perhaps Mother will make a selection. She heard mine this week and she will hear yours next week. The best thing is to try your way.”

So I became the teacher and everybody learnt it in my way. My way was very simple. Sometimes there was a musical touch in it. He also made a few suggestions to improve it.

We went the following week to recite the poem in front of the Mother. O God, she liked it very much. Her comment was, “Very good!”

I was not in the group. I was seated in the front row. Then Mother had to ask me whether I recited or not. She asked me what I was doing in the audience. So I also joined the group and, in a week or two, at the cultural programme, we recited it exactly my way.

My poor teacher! He showed such magnanimity of heart. Not only was he the ocean of wisdom but he had such a large heart. He was sincerely happy that Mother like my version. This story shows his nobility.

 

4.

Next to Kapali Sastry, we were like drops. He was the ocean of knowledge. He wrote a book in English that was all about the Mother. It was called Flame of White Light. He asked me to translate it into Bengali. In the Ashram, these great sadhaks did not request; they just compelled. The order came, “Do it for me.” The order came to me through M.P. Pandit, who was a very great literary figure in the Ashram. Sri Aurobindo was M.P. Pandit’s Guru but Kapali Sastry was his mentor.

So I translated the book into Bengali. The title was “Sada jyoti shikha”.
 

The booklet was printed at the Ashram. The original cover and the pages of Bengali text follow:¹
 

5.

In February 1986, I was visiting my family at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. One day I was near Sri Aurobindo’s Samadhi. All of a sudden, so many reminiscences of my Sanskrit teacher started flowing in my mind-river. I could not believe it. Later I learnt that it was his centenary year.

– End –

 

Note:
1 Colour plates have been omitted due to copyright restrictions.

Stories by Chinmoy

 

 

Foreword

Sri Chinmoy requested this compilation of stories about Sahana Devi in 2006 and he reviewed it several times, making additions and corrections. From the time that he joined the Sri Aurobindo Ashram in 1944, as a young orphan of only twelve, Sahana Devi expressed tremendous motherly concern and love for him. He remained eternally grateful to her.

– Vidagdha Bennett (Compiler)

 

Table of Contents

Preface by Sri Chinmoy 1. How Sahana Devi Joined the Ashram 2. Sahana Devi’s version of Tagore’s Musical Tastes 3. The Niece of Deshabandhu Chitta Ranjan Das 4. Sahana-di Sings for Sri Aurobindo 5. Sahana-di’s Experience while I was Singing 6. The Cousin of Atulprasad Sen 7. A Serious Misunderstanding with Sahana-di 8. I am Forbidden to Participate

9. Sahana-di Forgives Me 10. My Table Tennis Adventures 11. Nolini-da Immortalises Sahana-di 12. Kings and Queens of Imagination 13. I Set Music to Sahana-di’s Song 14. The Last Meeting 15. The Grandson of Deshabandhu Conclusion

 

 

Preface by Sri Chinmoy

I shall tell you a few stories about a singer of the supreme heights. Her name was Sahana Devi. She lived at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram as a most ardent disciple of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother for more than sixty years before she passed away in 1990. During my Ashram days, I basked in the sunshine of her affection.

 

 

1. How Sahana Devi Joined the Ashram

Sahana-di was a student at Rabindranath Tagore’s Santiniketan. She was extremely fortunate because she was so closely connected with Tagore. She sang for him many, many times and he was deeply enamoured of her soul-stirring voice. She also composed many songs.  

Dilip Kumar Roy was responsible for bringing Sahana Devi to the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. Dilip-da had a golden voice and also he had mesmerising charm. When Sahana Devi saw and heard Dilip-da’s supremely gifted talents, she became a great admirer of him.

 

Dilip Kumar Roy

Sahana-di was a singer of the highest order. She had a most glorious singing voice.¹ Dilip-da taught her one particular Bengali song. After Sahana-di sang that song, Dilip-da said he would not sing it any more because she sang it far, far better than he did.² Look at Dilip-da’s sincerity!  

When Dilip-da joined the Sri Aurobindo Ashram, he inspired Sahana-di to do the same. By that time, she too had developed tremendous love and devotion for Sri Aurobindo. Dilip-da and Sahana-di both arrived at the Ashram on November 22nd, 1928.  

Tagore was very upset when Sahana-di left Santiniketan. When she came to the Ashram, he sent an unforgettable message: “Had I been an Emperor, like the Moghul Emperors, I would have sent my army to bring you back from the Ashram.”  

Sahana-di had such a great personality. She was very highly educated and extremely talented. In appearance, she had a long face and she was very tall, majestic. She had a certain way of walking that commanded respect. When she walked, you could feel there was something inside her. She carried tremendous dignity, dignity, dignity.  

People were not afraid of her, but she commanded such admiration and respect. To go near her was really something. It was easier to go near Dilip-da. In Sahana-di, we always felt kindness and seriousness at the same time.  

 

2. Sahana Devi’s Version of Tagore’s Musical Tastes

Sahana Devi was a supreme authority on Tagore, specially Tagore’s devotional songs. She wrote in one of her articles that Tagore did not care for tabla or measured Western beat. She said that he wanted only a spontaneous flow.  

Then, in a subsequent issue of the same magazine, another authority on Tagore’s music – Shanti Ghosh – said that Tagore really enjoyed tabla and also Western beat. Whom to believe? Both of them studied under Tagore and now there are two different versions. Sahana Devi was older than Shanti Ghosh by a few years, so perhaps her version is more reliable.  

I have the same problem. When the beat is measured, usually I do not like it. For the fast songs, I do like it but for the slow ones, these one-eighth or one-quarter notes do not appeal to me.  

Tagore had ten or twelve students whom he personally invited to study directly under him. They were selected from the several hundred students who attended Santiniketan. Among these selected students, his nephew Dinendranath³ was the closest. As soon as a tune came to Tagore, he used to sing it for his nephew and his nephew would give the proper notation. When his nephew died, Tagore said that his right hand had gone. Other students began taking notation for him, but the process became very slow. Tagore always used to say that the reason was that his nephew was in his consciousness, whereas, the others were not.  

 

3. The Niece of Deshabandhu Chitta Ranjan Das

Sahana Devi came of a very illustrious family. Her maternal uncle was known as ‘Deshabandhu’ – ‘The Friend of the Nation’. That was his title. His actual name was Chitta Ranjan Das. He was the barrister who defended Sri Aurobindo when Sri Aurobindo was interned in Alipore Jail on a charge of sedition.⁴ Lord Krishna himself came to Sri Aurobindo in the Alipore Jail and told him, “Give all responsibility to Chitta Ranjan. You do not need to give your advice. He is the one whom I have chosen to release you from the jail.”  

Day in and day out, C.R. Das worked so hard. Then, while summing up his case before the court, C.R. Das gave such an historic message. He said, “Long after he [Sri Aurobindo] is dead and gone, his words will be echoed and re-echoed not only in India but across distant seas and lands …” That was the day Sri Aurobindo was released.  

 

Chitta Ranjan Das

 

C.R. Das became a very great political figure. He was extremely close to Mahatma Gandhi, ‘the Father of the Nation’. They had mutual admiration and appreciation for each other.  

For many years, C.R. Das used to come and visit Sri Aurobindo in Pondicherry. Sri Aurobindo told him, “Politics and spirituality do not go together. Give up politics if you want to realise God.”  

C.R. Das could not give up politics. He continued to work for his country until death snatched him away in 1925.  The Master-Seer of the age, from his silence-hushed Ashram, said,  

Chitta Ranjan’s death is a supreme loss. Consummately endowed with political intelligence, constructive imagination, magnetism, a driving force combining a strong will and uncommon plasticity of mind for vision and tact of the hour, he was the one man after Tilak who could have led India to Swaraj.

Tagore’s glorious tribute to the mighty departed soul runs:   

With thee came down
            The immortal breath.
This thou booned us
            With thy body’s death.   

Mahatma Gandhi said:   

Time cannot efface the memory of a man so great and good as Deshabandhu.   

 

4. Sahana-di Sings for Sri Aurobindo

The Mother and Sri Aurobindo lavished their affection and love on Sahana-di. She was such a superlative singer; her voice was unimaginably haunting. In the beginning, Sri Aurobindo gave Dilip-da, Sahana-di and one or two more permission to sing for him once a week. Then, gradually, it became once a fortnight, then once a month. Perhaps I was not even born at that time.  

Sahana-di was among those who used to receive letters from Sri Aurobindo almost on a daily basis from 1930 to 1938. She received hundreds and hundreds of letters from him. Sri Aurobindo had very special blessings, very special concern and very special affection for her. In her immortal book, entitled At the Feet of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo, Sahana-di published many, many letters that she received from Sri Aurobindo and the Mother.  

 

Sahana-di and the Mother

 

5. Sahana-di’s Experience while I was Singing

The Pondicherry sun is very, very powerful. Many days we had scorching heat. The following incident happened in 1946 or 1947 on one of those days. I was just a young boy of fourteen or fifteen. Between midday and one o’clock – absolutely the hottest time of the day – I was inspired to walk along the shore of the Bay of Bengal. Then, what is more, I was inspired to sing some songs. Deliberately, from beginning to end, I was singing them all wrong! I was singing in Bengali at the top of my voice and I was using all unbearable melodies. In this way, I was getting much more joy than when I sang those songs correctly!  

The Bay of Bengal was only one hundred metres away from my house. I walked there for at least five or six hundred metres. I was not wearing sandals even. Sometimes I was singing, sometimes I was whistling. I was absolutely carefree. This kind of carefree life is something we can never recapture, never! After walking there, I came back home. When I came near my house, I could not continue to sing in such an uncivilised way, so I stopped my singing. I became a silent Brahman.  

In three or four hours’ time, Sahana Devi came to my sisters’ house with a poem. Her house was very close to the Bay of Bengal – only two and a half blocks away. She told my sisters that from her balcony, she had seen me walking and singing. I was acting like a madcap, but she had seen inside me the living presence of God. She did not see me as a human being at that time; she saw a living God inside me. She herself was such a great singer, but she did not care about my deplorable singing.  

She was so deeply inspired by this experience that she wrote about twelve lines to say, “I vividly saw God, not a human being.” At that time, I was not yet well acquainted with her, but I knew who she was. That was her first comment.  

Even now, I cannot believe how badly I was singing, deliberately, on that day. I was getting tremendous joy by singing the wrong tune. But Sahana-di went beyond my singing. What a beautiful poem she wrote! Afterwards she came to know that I happen to be a good singer.  

Afterwards, she reminded me of that incident many, many times. In 1989, when I visited my family at the Ashram, she was 92 years old. Even then, she had to remind me of that incident.

 

6. The Cousin of Atulprasad Sen

Recently, I have come to learn that Sahana-di was the cousin of Atulprasad Sen, the great composer.^{5 6} I have borrowed the melody of his song “Balo balo balo sabe” for my song “Chalo chalo chalo chalo”. Here, in the West, if you borrow the melody of another composer, then you will be placed in jail. But, in India, if you mention that you have borrowed a melody from someone, then you are exonerated and the composer is so proud that you have taken his melody. Our “Chalo chalo” I have freely taken from “Balo balo”. Like that, I have taken seven or eight supreme tunes from different musicians – Kaji Najrul Islam, Dilip Kumar Roy and others.

 

7. A Serious Misunderstanding with Sahana-di

Sahana-di became one of my Ashram ‘mothers’. My own physical mother left me when I was eleven and a half, so when I came to the Ashram, there were five elderly women who lavished their affection on me unreservedly and unconditionally. They all claimed to be my mothers and they showered me with boundless love and affection. My main mother was Mridu-di.⁷ Then came Sahana-di. In so many ways, she poured her boundless affection, concern and fondness upon me.  

Alas, somehow a serious misunderstanding arose at one time between Sahana-di and me. She had a devoted student, but later on, this lady became Sahana-di’s rival. The rival’s daughter was in Sahana-di’s music class. One day, this girl was angry with Sahana-di for some reason. She stood up in class and said, “Even Chinmoy-da says that your voice is not what it used to be. You have lost your singing capacity.”  

All on a sudden, out of the blue, that girl had to ruin everything for me. It was only rivalry because this girl’s mother, who was also a singer, was jealous of Sahana-di. Although we were brought up together at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram, I never had the occasion to speak to that girl, even for a fleeting second. She was two years my junior and she was in a completely different class from me. But I happened to be a very good singer, so she thought if she uttered her criticism in my name it would have more effect.  

I was a great admirer of Sahana-di’s singing voice. What is more, Sahana-di was so kind, so affectionate and so indulgent to me. How could I speak ill of her? It was unthinkable for me to criticise my Ashram mother. It was all an utter lie. But that is how fate goes.  

Sahana-di believed the story and she became so mad. Life is always like that. When people speak ill of us, we always believe it. But when they flatter us, we are reluctant to accept their praise; we feel there must be some motive behind it. I told Sahana-di that the report was absolutely false, but she did not believe me. She was so furious that she would not even talk to me, nor would she include me in any musical activities. Before, I was one of the first to be invited.  

 

8. I am Forbidden to Participate

My unfortunate experience with Sahana-di happened in 1947. Her punishment came a few months later. Our greatest Ashram singer, Dilip Kumar Roy, had composed an excellent song in Sanskrit on India’s freedom. The name of the song was “Avirbhuta bharata janani” (Mother India is fully awakened). In this song, he is worshipping the soul of India as the Mother Goddess.  

Dilip-da wanted at least two hundred Ashramites to perform the song at a special function that would be held at the football playground. Pondicherry’s Governor would be there. Sahana Devi and Dilip-da were extremely close friends and Sahana Devi was his assistant. In order to make up the number, Sahana Devi invited singers of all different standards to join – including my own brother Mantu, who cannot hold a note! Give him any song and it is off the track. When my brother Mantu used to sing, my sister Lily used to disappear because he ruined everything. When they were singing in a group, my sister would become so embarrassed, she used to run away.  

Anyway, I was not allowed to be among those two hundred singers. Can you imagine? Sahana-di said, “If Chinmoy sings that song, I am not going to sing.”  

Who was I in comparison with Sahana-di? So Dilip-da’s reply was, “Oh, who needs Chinmoy!” I received a message via one of Dilip-da’s friends that I must not join the group; I was discarded.  

The singers used to practise at Dilip-da’s house. It was only forty metres away from the house where I lived, on the same street. Two hundred people could not be accommodated in his house, so some of them had to stand outside on the pavement.  

While they were practising, I used to enjoy singing the song. Who could remain silent? I could hear it very well, even from my room. I learnt it very, very nicely, but I was not allowed to participate in the final performance. That was my punishment.  

Some people told me that I should just go up and sing on that day without an invitation. They said it would not matter because so many people were taking part. But I did not dare. I did not want to make Sahana Devi even more furious. So I stayed in the audience.  

I suffered so much because one girl told a lie. I incurred Sahana-di’s anger and also Dilip-da became really angry with me. It took many long years for Sahana-di to forgive me.  

 

9. Sahana-di Forgives Me

This incident happened in 1952, when I was twenty-one years old. One day, Sahana Devi caught me on the street and gave me a notebook. In it, she had written a poem in Bengali of ten or twelve lines. It was very short. My mothers did not believe in ‘request’. Their heart-dictionaries housed only ‘demand’ and ‘command’. She did not beg or request me – she ordered me to translate it into English. She said she would forgive me on one condition: if she was satisfied with my translation. This poem was all about Sri Aurobindo. The title was “Aurobindo Pranam”. Sahana-di’s notebook also contained a long poem by her in Bengali. It ran to two hundred lines.  

I immediately translated the short poem and then I was inspired to translate the long poem as well. I thought, “I have so many things to do, but at least I should do this for Sahana-di. Whether it is to her satisfaction or not, I should do it.”  

Master! To Thee I Bow
By Sahana Devi
 

Thy Feet of immortal lustre are all my world,
My life, a worship of Thy Form divine,
My haven, the fulness of Thy desire unfurled,
Extinction of earth’s will in Thee is mine.  

Devoutness of my heart Thy Bounty’s rays,
The splendour of Thy Compass is my might,
The ken of Thine is my liberation’s ways,
Blessings of Thee on me Thy Acceptance-light.  

My realm, Thy world unveiled of supernal Play,
Mine is the whole of Thy eternal swing,
My loneliness is the fire-touch of Thy ray,
And that alone the door unclosed to Thee, King!  

The Form of my form is Thy Apocalypse,
The Fountain of my thoughts is Thy Will’s Sun,
Existence Thine my song’s citadel-deeps,
My bow the withdrawal of “I”, and union.

                                   (Translated by Chinmoy)  

Fortunately, Sahana-di liked my translations very much. When she read them, she once more became all love, all affection, all kindness, all compassion towards me. And I received from her the same scoldings! She was all-eager to forgive me, so she said she liked the translations very much and she was so happy, so happy. She arranged for both the long one and the short one to be printed in the Mother India.⁸

Many years later, during one of my visits to the Ashram, she said to me, “Now I want you to keep this. You will value it because it is your own handwriting.” My notebook that I gave her with my translations, she gave back to me. My original handwriting was quite beautiful. Nowadays, it is unreadable! I still preserve that notebook.  

 

10. My Table Tennis Adventures

I am beginning with the story of how my pride was smashed when I was a young man. Sahana Devi used to beg me to play tennis. Because I was doing well in athletics, I did not listen to her advice. I thought that if I practised tennis on the hard court, I would ruin my legs for sprinting. I was also very poor and I could not afford to buy the necessary shoes and racquet. At the Ashram, I played tennis only twice.  

One year, for some reason, I decided to participate in the tennis tournament. Since I had no experience, they put me against K. Rajangam. This was the gentleman who gave the money to buy the main building of the Ashram. He was quite young when he joined the Ashram and he came of a very rich family, so he offered Sri Aurobindo and the Mother a very large amount of money and the main building was purchased.  

About ten years ago when I was visiting the Ashram, I was nearing the Ashram Dining Hall. Somebody from behind called, “Chinmoy!” I turned around only to see him. He grabbed my hands and immediately put them on his head for my blessings.  

This happened right in the street. I said, “What are you doing? What are you doing?”  

He said, “I know who you are.” 

 

Rajan-da outside the main entrance of the Sri Aurobindo Ashram

 

Coming back to my tennis story, Rajan-da was then on the wrong side of 50. He was either 55 or 58. I was about 22 years old. I had such pride because I was the fastest sprinter, the best athlete. I said to Rajan-da, “I will easily defeat you!” Then the game commenced and I discovered that my racquet had a big ‘hole’! He was such a skilful player and he was enjoying the game immensely. Poor me, I was running this side and that side, but I could not return the ball. Needless to say, he defeated me very nicely. He crushed my ego.  

The second time I played was the following day. I went and practised against the wall with the hope that in the near future I could again challenge Rajan-da. Alas, it did not help. I failed to make any progress. Sahana-di begged me and begged me to persevere. She even said she would give me a tennis racquet.  

I said, “No, no, no.”  I did not follow her suggestion. But now, you see, her vision was better than mine. If I had listened to her and started playing tennis at age eighteen, today I would be able to play really well. These were my two experiences of playing tennis in the Ashram.  

Then Sahana-di said, “At least play table tennis.”  I agreed to try table tennis.  

Sahana-di was so happy. She immediately gave me three wooden table tennis bats. I began to learn the game and I became a very good player.  

One of the main pillars of the Ashram – A.B. Purani – used to enjoy playing table tennis very much. Unfortunately, he was quite stout and also at that time he was around sixty years old. Therefore, nobody wanted to play on the same doubles team as him. I happened to be a great admirer of his. I used to call him ‘Lion’, and he used to call me ‘Baby Lion’. He was very, very fond of me. So I said that I was ready to play doubles with him.  

Alas, we never won. Why? Because people are not kind. Our opponents used to direct all their tricky shots to him. He was the weak point in our team. How much area could I cover? But I did not mind at all because I was able to give Purani-ji so much joy, so much joy.  

 

A.B. Purani

 

I wish to add something more about Purani-ji. He was a very great scholar and writer. His Evening Talks with Sri Aurobindo offer us so many insights into Sri Aurobindo’s views on a wide range of subjects.  

In 1955, Purani-ji went to England to gather information about Sri Aurobindo’s early life there for his monumental biography entitled The Life of Sri Aurobindo. In his book, he has reproduced a photograph of the room Sri Aurobindo occupied as a student at King’s College, Cambridge University.  

On June 27th, 2003 – nearly half a century later – I went to Cambridge to honour various professors with our “Lifting Up the World with a Oneness-Heart Award”. One of my students made arrangements with the Provost tor me to go and see Sri Aurobindo’s room after our ceremony was over.  

There are actually two rooms where Sri Aurobindo lived from 1890-1892. The smaller of the two rooms was used as a study by Sri Aurobindo and some other students. The rooms are now occupied by an elderly gentleman, Dr. John Avery, who is retired. Formerly, he was a lecturer in Persian studies. He showed me everything with such love and respect. He made repeated requests for me to sit down, but how could I dare to sit down in the room where my Master had studied? I was trembling with delight inside that room. My eyes were flooded with tears and my heart was swimming in the sea of delight. My heart was literally throbbing. Out of reverence, I remained standing and meditated.  

Afterwards, Dr. Avery thanked me for paying a visit to his room. I replied, “It is I who should be grateful to you. I am a humble disciple of Sri Aurobindo.”  

I will cherish this most precious memory of my visit to Sri Aurobindo’s room until the end of my days. Fortunately, we were able to take many, many photographs, so perhaps I have been able to add something to Purani-ji’s immortal book.  

 

11. Nolini-da Immortalises Sahana-di

On January 30th, 1962, I said to Nolini-da, “It seems you have immortalised Sahana-di in your writings.”  

Nolini-da replied, “Chinmoy, I do not write anything false. She deserves my sincere appreciation.”

 

Sahana-di, Nolini-da and Nolini-da’s son Robi-da – March 1969. Photo by Chinmoy

 

12. Kings and Queens of Imagination

Kalipada-da, Rose-di and Satinath-da were working in Amrita-da’s room. Around eleven o’clock in the morning, Amrita-da said to me: “Chinmoy, yesterday I read your article on Raja Rammohun. You are all Bengalis here; I am the only non-Bengali. I must say that all you Bengalis are rajas and ranis [kings and queens] of imagination.”  

Rose-di said, “Amrita-da, what you say is perfectly true. But, unfortunately, we have all lost our kingdoms, so we are crownless kings and queens.”  

At this point, Sahana-di entered the room. Amrita-da said, “Don’t worry. Sahana can easily solve the problem for you. She can afford not only to buy you crowns but also to crown you.”  

Sahana-di said, “What? What? What kind of arrow, Amrita, are you hurling at me?”  

“We are not aiming arrows at you. We are just admiring your supernatural capacities and qualities,” he said.

 

13. I Set Music to Sahana-di’s Song

Sahana-di wrote many, many beautiful songs. I learnt quite a few when I was in India. One song of hers was my favourite. After I came to America, I set music to this particular composition in my own way.
 

 

Agni mayi agni jwalo kayai tuli sara
Rakte mama bahao taba bani rasha dhara
Tarar mato urdha shikha dhari utuk sab dhulika
Mukta karo bhangi amar mritikar kara

                                                                                    – Sahana Devi

 

On one of my visits to Pondicherry, I wanted to sing that song for her. Sahana-di was head of the tailoring department in the Ashram. The Mother gave her that job. My cousin Nirmala-di also used to work there. There were about ten workers altogether. So one day I went there. The workers were so thrilled that I had come to visit their department. And Sahana-di herself was so happy and surprised to see me.  

She asked, “What brings you here?”  

I replied, “I have come here to sing a song. One of your songs I have set to music. I know your melody well; I learnt it when I was fourteen or fifteen years old. I fully appreciate your melody, but in America, I was inspired to set a different melody to your song. I want you to hear my version.”  

She said, “I know you are a daredevil. Now, what do you need from me? You have not come with your harmonium?”  

“From America, I will carry my harmonium?” I answered.  

Then she said, “Ja! Go inside. There are three harmoniums. Choose whichever one you want. Bring it out and sing.”  

I said, “I do not need your harmonium. I can sing better without a harmonium.”  

I was told that Sahana-di was very fussy about her instruments. Usually, she did not lend them to anyone. But on that occasion, she begged me to use one of her harmoniums. So I played on her harmonium and sang the song. Although my tune was totally different from hers, she was very deeply moved.  

That kind of affectionate command or demand we exchanged – the ‘son’ and the ‘mother’. At that time I was forty-two.⁹

 

14. The Last Meeting

Every time I went to India to visit my family, I used to visit Sahana Devi. The last two or three times, she came to our house in a rickshaw to see me. I would have gone to see her, but she did not trust me to come on my own, so she came to see me. She said, “You have become such a great person, it is I who should visit you.”  

The last time I saw her, she said to me, “Kindly give me some money, Chinmoy. I have written a novel and I need money to print it.”  

I said, “Fine. How much money do you need?”  

She told me how much money she needed. Then immediately I gave her much more than what she needed. This was a kind of mother-and-son business.  

Then she asked me if she should send me an autographed copy. I said, “Yes, you can give me. But, forgive me, I am not going to read your novel.”  

She knew I am of that type. In my entire life, I have read only three novels: Anandamath by Bankim Chandra Chatterjee,¹⁰ Srikanto by Sarat Chandra Chatterjee¹¹ and War and Peace by Tolstoy.  

So Sahana-di did not send me her autographed copy. She passed away on April 6th, 1990 at the age of 93.  

 

15. The Grandson of Deshabandhu

The grandson of Deshabandhu Chitta Ranjan Das became India’s Ambassador to the United States in 1992. His name is Siddhartha Shankar Ray. His mother, Aparna Devi, was the eldest daughter of Deshabandhu. Formerly, Siddhartha Shankar Ray was the Chief Minister of West Bengal.  

He was, to some extent, anti Sri Aurobindo because he did not understand why Sri Aurobindo left politics and opened up the Ashram. And yet, here in America, he and his wife, Maya Devi, poured their affection into me in so many ways. They were so kind to me.  

On August 8th, 1993, we honoured them both with a special programme at a local school, PS 86. During the programme, we played a recording of Sahana-di singing and Ambassador Ray was very deeply moved.¹²

This is what Ambassador Ray said on that occasion:  

Sri Chinmoy, sisters and brothers, I want everyone to know how deeply grateful I am for the exalting spiritual experience that you have provided me tonight. There was tremendous spiritual serenity, but it was coupled with a great deal of mundane gladness. Not only have you, my sisters and brothers, and, of course, Sri Chinmoy, uplifted me towards great spiritual heights, but suddenly listening to my own aunt singing after so many years was something I did not ever expect, certainly not in the United States.   

Sahana Devi was my mother’s first cousin, the daughter of the sister of Deshabandhu Chitta Ranjan Das. The last time I saw her I was perhaps eight or ten years old. She renounced the world and went to Pondicherry to join Sri Aurobindo. Sri Aurobindo, of course, she knew, not only because my grandfather defended him, but also because of my grandfather’s spiritual affinity with him, but more than that, because of my grandmother’s love for Sri Aurobindo’s philosophy and his thinking. Our family and Sri Aurobindo’s family were very near, very close. As a result of which, when Sahana Devi wanted to renounce the world and seek spiritual attainment, the Sri Aurobindo Ashram was probably the only place she could really have gone, the only place that she had really heard about.   

But to suddenly hear her voice today, on the 8th of August 1993, has completely taken away the soil from under my feet, and I do not really know what I am saying. Her singing voice was exactly the same as my mother’s voice and suddenly, when I heard her voice coming through the speakers, I thought it was my mother’s voice. My mother passed away in 1973, after a very long illness. She suffered from cancer. And after twenty years to suddenly hear the same voice was mentally, as well as spiritually, shall I say shattering. I felt that I was living in a different world altogether.   

And I am grateful to Sri Chinmoy for having done this for me. I would not say that it is for me. It is because I am the grandson of Deshabandhu. Otherwise, there have been many ambassadors, many ministers.  

 

Conclusion

Sahana Devi was a very, very great soul. Sri Aurobindo used to have many great souls among his disciples. She was undoubtedly one of those.  

Life is a flower of the soul that unfolds its petals
When touched by the Light of the Divine.
                                                    – Sahana Devi     

 

– End –

 

Endnotes:
1 An old recording of Sahana Devi singing may be found at the following: Hummaa.
2 This is confirmed by Anurag Banerjee who writes: “Once, at the University Institute Hall, Sahana Devi had sung Dwijendralal’s ‘How can we worship Thee in an image /When all the world’s Thine image Divine?’ which Dilip Kumar had taught her. After her performance Dilip Kumar got up and announced to the audience: “I’ll never sing this song again!” – except from The Mother’s Lasso.
3 Refer: Visva-Bharati.
4 Refer: Sri Aurobindo Society.
5 Refer: Munshiganj District.
6 A very rare recording of Atulprasad Sen singing his own composition may be found at: Hummaa.
7 Mridu Bhashini Devi. For stories about her, refer Mridu-di: My First and Foremost Mother of Affection [Agni Press, New York, 1998].
8 Mother India (journal)
9 1973 or 1974.
10 Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay
11 Sri Chinmoy was fond of telling an amusing story about Sarat Chandra Chatterjee: “He had a dog, uglier than the ugliest, named Bulu. Bulu’s barking was not enough. He used to bite Sarat Chandra’s guests also. Sarat Chandra was such a great writer. He had many, many admirers. Now when Bulu died, many literary figures came to see him and pay their respects. When Bulu was buried, they all shed tears. Then some of them even went to the length of writing poems and short stories about Bulu to please Sarat Chandra.” Sri Chinmoy added: “If you like someone, then you will try to like the things that he likes.”
12 In 1996, Ambassador Ray offered the introduction to Sri Chinmoy’s Peace Concert in Washington, D.C. in which he said, “Sri Chinmoy is an embodiment of Rabindranath Tagore’s concept of the universal man.” On another occasion, Ambassador Ray said to Sri Chinmoy, “We are ambassadors. We deal in politics, but you are India’s real cultural ambassador. Our contributions do not last. Your contribution is the real contribution which will last in America and the West.”

The following article by Chinmoy was published in the “Mother India” magazine in August 1963. It is his heartfelt tribute to a revered friend and fellow Ashramite. Narottam Dass Mehra was some twenty-four years older than Chinmoy, but he saw something unique in the young man and he and his entire family became extremely close to Chinmoy. After Narottam’s passing, his son Baburam offered Chinmoy the money for his ticket to the West and for this unconditional gesture of faith in him, Sri Chinmoy was grateful to the end of his days.

– Vidagdha

 

IN MEMORIAM: NAROTTAM DASS MEHRA                          “Mother Divine !”—                        Only this word on his lips a-shine—                        Her Grace alone his vision’s Light—                        Her Victory’s Sun his soul’s pure might.     Narottam (meaning “the best of men”) proved all true to his name.   Impelled from within he came to Pondicherry from his Calcutta home and had the darshan of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother on August 15, 1950, for the first time. That was the golden moment of his life—a new birth of his soul.   Narottam’s old ideal of a successful life merely culminating in a flourishing business changed its entire motive and colour under the direct guidance of the Mother. Then and there his soul, his psychic being, came to the fore and took charge of his career. The Love that ruled all his moments now became his shield against the shafts and arrows aimed at him. The shocks of the world came upon him, but unbowed he stood, unscathed he emerged.   His connections with the world were replaced by one all-comprehensive Connection with the Source of that Love, the Mother Divine.   His offerings to the Mother knew no reserve, no expectation of return, none of recognition. The Love effaced every dividing line of his personality. His was a single whole of self-dedication. This was the simple picture of the fire-pure change of Narottam.   On July 24, a few hours after his demise, the Mother disclosed that his psychic being had clasped her and would not leave. She said also that it was luminous and his next incarnation would be remarkable.   On July 27 an inmate of the Ashram wrote to the Mother his vision regarding Narottam’s departure. A part of his vision was that Narottam might have lived for twenty years more had he lived an ordinary life outside the Ashram, free from the stress of the spiritual seeking, but that by throwing himself at the Feet of the Mother he had achieved through her Grace the spiritual progress of twenty coming births. The Mother made a correction, saying, “He would have passed away three years ago had he lived outside.”   The disciple is extremely grateful to the Mother that She has made known what would otherwise have remained unknown.   Much more grateful is the whole family that they had their dearest one with them for three long years more because of his Ashram life here.   Six years before he breathed his last, Mamaji (as Narottam was familiarly called) spoke to me of one of his dreams in which he found himself among a group of people sitting by a burning pyre. Happy and cheerful within, he asked who the dead was. “It is Narottam, who was my life’s support,” said one, heaving a deep sigh. “He was goodness itself for everybody,” said another shedding his tears. “He was a hero of the Divine Mother and died fighting her battle, a hero’s death,” said the third with a broad smile. Deeply moved by this last answer, Mamaji drew close to the man and warmly blessed him.   The end of his dream came true at 10.7 a.m. on the 24th July, 1963, shortly after he had entered his fifty-sixth year.   CHINMOY

 

This photograph, taken in Pondicherry on 18 January 1989, shows Baburam's brother, Baburam's mother, Sri Chinmoy and Baburam Mehra.

 

Notes:

Sri Chinmoy told many stories over the years about this particular family. Here is a small selection:

1. “Baburam is several years younger than me. He was begging me to go to his place. Finally, one day I went with him. As soon as his father saw my eyes, something happened inside him. After that, his father never called me Chinmoy – it was always Yogiraj (king of the yogis).”

2. “When Baburam’s father was very sick in hospital, I went with Baburam to see him. Two doctors came out of the room, smoking. Baburam asked them, “How is he doing?” “Quite well,” they said. I go there and I see the soul is leaving the body. I folded my hands and offered my pranam to Baburam’s father. Then I said to Baburam, “Go and bring the doctors. Your father has left the body.” The doctors did not believe him, but they came. Then they used our Indian system to see if he was alive. If someone is dead and you shake the big toe, the whole body will shake. If they are still alive, the body will not shake. That is our Indian theory. Anyway, they did this and they saw that Baburam’s father was no more. They were so shocked. Not even two minutes before they were saying that he was fine.”

3. “Baburam’s father had a new suit. It was Nehru type. So when Baburam’s mother heard that I was coming to America, she gave it to me. She said her husband would have been so happy for me to have it. On rare occasions I used it in America. When one big shot came to the Indian Consulate, my sectional boss, C.G.K. Menon, asked me to give it to him to wear to the function. Every day at 4:30 I used to stand in front of this particular boss and say, ‘I am now going to the post office.’ One day he said to me, ‘Why are you wasting your time here?’ Then he was so happy when I left the Consulate to do my spiritual work.”

Foreword

In September 1997, Sri Chinmoy requested me to compile his reminiscences about Dr. Sisirkumar Ghose, who was one of his main mentors during his formative years. Sri Chinmoy gave this collection of stories the title:

My Santiniketan Sisir-da:
My Mentor of a Fully Blossomed
Lotus-Heart

I was greatly helped in finding background information about Sisirkumar Ghose by his great-niece, Mahatapa Palit,¹ who had become Sri Chinmoy’s student several years earlier. She was able to provide a detailed biography and many rare photographs of this eminent scholar. I also have a personal connection with Sisir Ghose, which adds another thread to this unique tapestry.

These stories were told by Sri Chinmoy over many years. He read the entire collection aloud to Arun Ghose, Mahatapa’s uncle and the nephew of Sisir-da, during Arun’s visit to New York on September 27th, 1997. At that time, Sri Chinmoy made many additions and improvements to the manuscript. The stories are all presented in his first-person speaking voice, as they were originally recorded.

– Vidagdha Bennett

Table of Contents

Dedication by Sri Chinmoy 1. Sisir-da's Unalloyed affection 2. My Sisir-da 3. Sisir-da's Eldest Brother 4. Sisir Ghose's Two Homes 5. Affection Compels Surrender 6. Visitors from Santiniketan 7. Sisir-da creates a Problem for Me 8. A Most Precious Gift 9. Sisir-da's Most Significant Prediction 10. Two Great Rival-Friends 11. A Difference of Approach 12. “For Me, He is a Professor!” 13. Tagore's Right-hand Man

14. How could Chinmoy be so Rotten? 15. Sisir-da Reveals his Identity 16. Sisir-da’s Secret 17. Sisir-da’s Bravery 18. My Offering of Gratitude to my Sisir-da 19. Sisir-da and I become Reconciled 20. Tagore’s Niece 21. Sisir-da’s House 22. An Ashram Boy 23. Sisir-da’s Inner Direction 24. A Family Tradition Sri Chinmoy’s Reminiscences Appendix One Appendix Two

 

My Santiniketan Sisir-da:
My Mentor of a Fully Blossomed
Lotus-Heart

 

Dedication by Sri Chinmoy

Sisir Ghose lived most of the time in Santiniketan, West Bengal, where he was a Professor of English, an authority on the writings of Rabindranath Tagore and a world-renowned scholar of mysticism. But, from time to time, he used to come and stay at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram.

My beloved Sisir-da was unswervingly kind to me. He was unreservedly affectionate to me. He was unconditionally indulgent to me. He was undoubtedly an Himalayan mentor in my formative years at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. He showed me how an ocean of knowledge-light can at once lovingly and unassumingly play with a very tiny and shallow pond. My heart’s gratitude-flames I am most soulfully offering to his heart’s compassion-sun. I bow in all humility to a most precious diamond of Tagore’s Santiniketan.
 

Dr. Sisirkumar Ghose2

 

1. Sisir-da’s Unalloyed affection

In so many ways, Dr. Sisirkumar Ghose – my Sisir-da – blessed me with his unalloyed affection and fondness during my youth. I shall never forget the way he would suddenly appear and grab my shoulder and compel me to walk with him here and there.

When my friends of my own age saw that I was going somewhere, they would often come running to walk with me. I had one friend, by name of Prahllad, who would even drop his bicycle in the street so that he could walk with me.

But Sisir-da was considerably older than I was and so he treated me like a little brother. He used to call out, “Hey, Chinmoy!” Then he would place his hand affectionately and powerfully on my shoulder in front of everyone and turn me around so that I could accompany him. I had to make an about-turn! He never asked me where I was going; he would just grab me and pilot me in his usual way. Then we would walk and walk.

One incident stands out in my memory. Evening had fallen. He grabbed me by the shoulder and compelled me to walk at least two miles with him along the shore of the Bay of Bengal. He was talking and talking of literary things the whole way. Now and then, he would quote from Sri Aurobindo’s “Savitri”. I was a silent listener and devoted admirer. By the time we came back, it was eleven-thirty or so. He had to drink a cup of tea. Now, where would he get tea at that hour? My cousin Nirmala was very nice. We went to her place around midnight and she made tea for him. In those days, I did not drink tea.

I learnt so many things from Sisir-da during our walks together. Truly, his was the wisdom-ocean.

 

2. My Sisir-da

Half a century has elapsed since those days. Strangely enough, I have only recently come to learn that Sisir-da was born in 1919. That means he was my senior by only twelve years. To me, the difference in our ages seemed more like twenty years. He was so mature that he looked much older than his actual age. Perhaps his long years of reading and studying contributed to this impression.

He once told me that he had a very special friend who would stay by his side the entire night through. He asked me to guess who this friend could be. I was bewildered. Sisir-da, with twinkling eyes, said: “You fool! You do not know who my special friend is? It is my English dictionary!”

Sisir-da had wavy hair and his eyes were very, very beautiful. His voice was sweet, high and melodious, like Tagore’s voice. As a West Bengali, he had excellent Bengali pronunciation. I deeply admired his Bengali pronunciation and tried to emulate it wherever possible, for I myself, being born in Chittagong, feel that my Bengali pronunciation is quite inferior to that of people from West Bengal, specially scholars like Sisir-da.

 

3. Sisir-da’s Eldest Brother

Sisir-da had four brothers, but he used to speak to me most often about his eldest brother, Santosh, whom he adored. He would say, “I am nothing in comparison to him. He was much more brilliant than I am. How I wish you could have seen my eldest brother!” And tears would shine in Sisir-da’s eyes.

Whenever I praised Sisir-da’s literary writings or his Bengali handwriting, which was extremely elegant and beautiful, he would say the same thing, “Ah, but my eldest brother’s literary compositions and handwriting were far, far better.”

This eldest brother had been a professor of English at Patna University where Sisir-da took his B.A. and M.A., but he died at a young age. Sisir-da used to support this brother’s wife and children. How he cherished the memory of his eldest brother!

 

4. Sisir Ghose’s Two Homes

Sisir Ghose was a brilliant scholar. Many of his lectures were printed serially in The Statesman. He lived most of the time in Santiniketan, West Bengal, where he was a reader/lecturer/professor at Rabindranath Tagore’s Vishwabharati University. But from time to time, he used to come and stay at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram.

For literature and culture, Tagore was his Guru; and for spirituality and yoga, Sri Aurobindo was his Guru.

 

5. Affection Compels Surrender

Once an Ashramite named Damodar, who had studied at Santiniketan for some time, asked Sisir-da to elucidate certain aspects of Sri Aurobindo’s “Savitri”. Sisir-da asked me to be present when he answered the questions. By then, I had read Sri Aurobindo’s epic seer-vision poem eight or ten times, but since I did not go beyond the barrier of high school, I am further than the furthest from being a scholar. From my earliest childhood, however, I have been a poet and each time I read “Savitri”, I absorbed and learnt so many difficult English words that are not to be found in most of the dictionaries. As to the subject itself, I knew that Sri Aurobindo had taken an episode from the Mahabharata as his theme but, to be perfectly sincere, I could not understand the poem well, no matter how many times I read it. So I told Sisir-da that I was not the right person to hear his discourse.

He said, “Chinmoy, ‘Savitri’ is not a matter of understanding. It is a matter of loving and admiring. You have read the poem so many times. That proves you genuinely love it. So, in what way are you inferior to one who has merely studied the poem on a mental level?”

Then he compelled me to go with him and listen to his most eloquent discourse. It lasted for forty-five minutes and I gained so many new and deep insights into the meaning of “Savitri”. This is the nature of affection. When somebody makes affectionate demands of you, you have no choice but to surrender, unconditionally surrender.

Sometimes, I would see him when I was on my way to the dining hall. I would be so hungry, absolutely dying to go and eat, but that was the time he was inspired to explain to me some portion of “Savitri”. He would tell me, “I know you have not understood it.” Then he would make me sit in one corner and he would read me the passage and explain everything to me.

 

6. Visitors from Santiniketan

In 1958, some years after Tagore’s passing, twenty Santiniketan students came to the Sri Aurobindo Ashram to take part in our athletics competition. In some items, we Ashramites defeated the Santiniketan students and, in some, they defeated us. I participated in the decathlon. That was the day I destroyed my right elbow throwing the javelin. In the 100-metre race, I defeated the Santiniketan students, but I lost to my German coach, Saumitra,³ badly.

The group of students from Santiniketan stayed at the Ashram guest house for two nights. They were of my age and so I mixed with them a little. I came to know that Sisir Ghose was the English Professor of the fellow who ran with me in the 100 metres.

Later, when I informed Sisir-da, he said, “He is a very bad student, but he is very good in athletics. I tried so hard to give him a good mark for English, but I could not.”

 

7. Sisir-da creates a Problem for Me

In 1957 or 1958, out of sheer joy and love, Sisir-da gave me a small picture of the Mother, Rabindranath Tagore, Paul Richard and W.W. Pearson standing together. He said, “Chinmoy, take it. This is something sacred.”

The picture was taken in 1917, long before I was born, in front of the huge statue of the Lord Buddha at Kamakura in Japan. The picture was so special because four very significant human beings, four world famous figures, were standing side by side.

I was so delighted and excited to receive the picture and I lost no time in showing it to my boss, Nolini Kanta Gupta, who was the main secretary of the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. I thought he would share my happiness. To my astonishment, Nolini-da became furious. “Who gave you that picture?” he demanded.

I did not want him to be mad at my Sisir-da, so I said, “ I have forgotten.”

“How could you forget this kind of thing?” said Nolini-da. “You only received the picture yesterday.”

Then he confiscated the picture from me. In one fell swoop, I lost the picture and I was blessed with a severe scolding.

When next I saw Sisir-da, I said to him, “You have done me a big favour! That picture landed me in such serious difficulties with Nolini-da.”

He said, “I had no idea it would create problems for you. I thought you would be so happy.”
 

A Buddhist priest, W.W. Pearson, Rabindranath Tagore, Mirra Richard (The Mother) and Paul Richard before the Lord Buddha in Kamakura, Japan, 1917.

The Cosmic Game of our Lord Beloved Supreme is such that the story does not end there. Although I had seen the picture only fleetingly, that particular statue of the Lord Buddha remained fixed in my mind. It was beyond my imagination that I would one day go to Japan and meditate at that sacred place. But that is exactly what happened. Since my first visit to Japan in 1969, I have made my pilgrimage to Kamakura seven times to pray and meditate before the Lord Buddha. To me, this statue embodies his His consciousness more than any other that I have seen.

In December 1996, the Head Priest of the Kotoku-In Buddhist Temple in Kamakura, who has become a very close friend of mine, most compassionately allowed me to offer a Peace Concert at the feet of the Lord Buddha. I was so deeply moved and honoured to do so, and I shall always remain grateful to him for this singular opportunity to express my love and devotion.

 

Sri Chinmoy meditating in front of the Kamakura Buddha many years later.

 

8. A Most Precious Gift

At the end of 1960, Sisir-da went to America and gave quite a few talks at Missouri University and various other places on philosophy, literature and so forth. When he was in New York, he stayed in Greenwich Village. There he bought a statue of the Lord Buddha as a present for me. When he came back to the Ashram in 1962, he gave me the statue and told me where he had bought it.

I asked, “Is it a village?”

I simply had no idea that in only two years I would come and live in Greenwich Village. I always say that in Greenwich Village there is no night; it is all day. There is so much light in the street.

 

Sisir-da in America, October 1962.

 

9. Sisir-da’s Most Significant Prediction

It was arranged that Sisir-da would give a talk at the Ashram about his trip to America. Four or five hundred people came to hear him at the playground. It was around nine o’clock in the evening. I was sitting in the audience, about twenty metres away from him, in the fourth or fifth row. He was reading out his memoirs.

All on of a sudden, out of the blue, he pointed to me and said, “I can clearly see that in a few years this fellow, our Chinmoy, will go to America and create a commotion!”⁴

Everybody in the audience burst into laughter because they thought it was all an hilarious joke. I did not know any Americans at this time but, in only two years, Sisir-da’s prediction came true. He was the first one to make the prediction that I would come to America. How did he have that vision in 1962? God alone knows. I was not even thinking of America. My mind was flying quite often to the Himalayas to resume the life I led in my previous incarnation.

 

10. Two Great Rival-Friends

Sisir Ghose and K.D. Sethna,⁵ the editor of Mother India, were two great friends and rivals. At the same time, both of them were my mentors. For years and years, they would not speak together face-to-face. But each one saw that I was mixing with the other one. So Sisir-da used to ask me, “How is Amal-da?”⁶ And K.D. Sethna used to ask me, “How is your Sisir-da?”

I was in between these two great literary figures. Quite a few times, Sisir-da would give me his writings to take to K.D. Sethna to print in Mother India. But if Sethna corrected one line, then finished! Sisir-da would not allow Sethna to print it. So both of them were on their high horses.

One day I decided to arrange a meeting between them. I sent an invitation to each one. I knew they would not refuse because they liked me so much. So, after many years, they agreed to see each other. I arranged for them to meet at Sethna’s place. I brought Sisir-da there in the late afternoon. And then both of them started talking and talking and talking, far above my head. I was so happy to see them together.

At one point, they started talking about me. Sisir-da said, “If we had twisted you just a little, given you a little help, you could have become a great scholar. You could have taken your Masters Degree.”

 

11. A Difference of Approach

While I was listening to Sisir-da and K.D. Sethna exchanging their views on a wide variety of subjects, I noticed one difference between them: I saw that K.D. Sethna’s approach was broad and vast. His sweeping mind was able to encompass everything in a general way. His reasoning was irrefutable and his intuition was penetrating.

By contrast, Sisir-da’s approach was much more specific. He knew so much about Western poets and philosophers that he was able to focus on minute details. On this occasion, however, he showed tremendous respect for K.D. Sethna’s literary knowledge and wisdom. Not only was K.D. Sethna his senior, but K.D. Sethna had the rare good fortune to discuss matters of high poetry with Sri Aurobindo through a series of illumining correspondence. That is why Sisir-da showed his humility in a most genuine way.

 

12. “For Me, He is a Professor!”

One day I was assisting K.D. Sethna with the forthcoming edition of Mother India. I said to him, “They say that Dr. Sisir Ghose is an excellent professor.”

K.D. Sethna said, “What is this? Why are you calling him ‘professor’? He is not a professor! He is only a Ph.D.”

I said, “He is so vast and great. For me, he is a professor.”

Then K.D. Sethna became furious. “From now on, you have to say that he is a reader. Readers are inferior to professors. You fool! Why do you have to open your big mouth to me!”

What do I know about the difference between a professor and a reader? This is the British system. For me, everyone who teaches at a university is a professor. But on this occasion, I became brave. I said, “Dr. Sisir Ghose will always be a professor to me. When I made the arrangements for you two to see each other after so many years – approximately fifteen years – both of you started showing off and I clearly saw that in some areas he knows much more than you do. That is why I call him professor.”

Then Amal Kiran’s compassion-forgiveness-aspect came to the fore and he gave me a very broad smile.

I made the first and last arrangement for these two literary giants to see each other again.

 

This portrait of Sisir-da was painted by P. Lukas in 1964.

 

13. Tagore’s Right-hand Man

Sisir Ghose and others used to have such admiration for Amiya Chakravarty,⁷ who was Rabindranath Tagore’s right-hand man. Tagore used to take him everywhere with him to be his literary secretary.

Once Amiya Chakravarty came to the Ashram and I was so happy to see him. Then, when I was working at the Indian Consulate in New York, one day he came in for a new passport. He was at that time a Visiting Professor at New Paltz. I was so happy and thrilled to see him. I said to him, “I saw you when you came to the Sri Aurobindo Ashram.”

“Oh, you come from the Ashram?” he enquired.

“Yes, I saw you at Purani’s place. I was so happy.”

That was my meeting with Amiya Chakravarty.

 

14. How could Chinmoy be so Rotten?

Whenever I go to the Ashram to see my sister and my brothers, I always go to pray and meditate before Sri Aurobindo’s Samadhi. This incident happened on one of my visits many, many years ago.

Sisir-da saw me going to the Samadhi and so he was waiting for me at a nearby place. He was observing me and wondering whether I was still the same person, his Chinmoy. After meditating, I bowed down to Sri Aurobindo and then I walked away. I was in another world and so I did not see my dearest Sisir-da waiting for me. I passed close by him without smiling at him or looking at him.

Then, for ten years or even more, he could not forgive me. He was so insulted that I had treated him in this way.

In spite of that, in 1982 he was the one to examine a Ph.D. thesis on my poetry written by one of my Australian students – and to pass it. Look at his nobility! When I think of my Sisir-da’s magnanimous heart, I swim in the sea of my gratitude-tears.

 

15. Sisir-da Reveals his Identity

Usually the examiners for Ph.D. remain anonymous, but I wanted to know who had done my student⁸ this great favour and so I asked Vidagdha to try to find out. She made an official request to the University of Melbourne and they wrote to Sisir Ghose seeking his permission to reveal his name and address. He readily agreed. This whole process took quite a few weeks. When Vidagdha finally received the information, she had no idea that I would recognise the name. She simply put the details in a letter and mailed it to me in New York.

O my God, ten days later, on the same day that her letter would appear, I went to a bookstore here in Jamaica, Queens. It was on Jamaica Avenue. It used to be near the train station, but it is no longer there. The manager was my friend.

Anyway, at the bookstore I happened to see a book by my beloved mentor Sisir Ghose. It was called Mystics as a Force for Change. I bought the book and returned home. I was about to eagerly devour the book when the mailman came. He delivered Vidagdha’s letter. I opened it and there I saw for the first time that my Sisir-da had been her examiner. My entire being was flooded with gratitude and a deep sense of amazement. From Australia, they had to go all the way to Tagore’s Santiniketan to find an examiner for her thesis – and whom should they find but my Sisir-da! Where is Australia and where is India? What a small world we live in!

 

16. Sisir-da’s Secret

In 1982, Sisir-da came to our home in Pondicherry and he was sitting eating Indian sweets with my brother, Chitta. Chitta was bragging that someone from Australia has earned a Ph.D. on my English poems.

Sisir-da simply said, “Oh, I see” and he kept eating sweets and smiling at my brother.

Then, later that year, when it became known that Sisir-da was the one who had examined Vidagdha’s thesis, my brother said to him, “Still you just smiled and said nothing! You kept it all top secret.”

They were joking about that incident.

 

17. Sisir-da’s Bravery

How brave my Sisir-da was! He knew that by passing Vidagdha’s thesis on my poetry, he would fall victim to severe criticism from many quarters – and still he went ahead and passed it. He stood for me. Vidagdha’s thesis had the merit, plus his love for me was so strong that nothing could sway him from his chosen course of action.

When it became known that it was he who had passed the thesis, some of my critics said to him, “Chinmoy is an idiot! What kind of English poetry can he possibly write?” They did not appreciate his decision at all.

Sisir-da’s only comment was, “I knew Chinmoy perhaps better than you did.”

These critics had forgotten that month after month, year after year, I was asked by Nolini-da himself to translate his Bengali writings into English. I also rendered Sri Aurobindo’s story “Swapna” (Dream) into iambic pentametre blank verse and his story “Kshamar Adarsha” (The Ideal of Forgiveness) into 200 lines of Bengali verses. This Bengali poem was read to him by his literary assistant, Nirodbaran, who said that Sri Aurobindo’s comment was: “It is a fine piece of poetry. He has capacity. Tell him to continue.”

I was still in my early teens when I received this blessingful encouragement from Sri Aurobindo. I shall forever and forever treasure his words in the inmost recesses of my heart. Perhaps it was because of this that Sisir-da told his critics, “I knew him perhaps better than you did.”

 

18. My Offering of Gratitude to my Sisir-da

As soon as I came to learn that it was my Sisir-da who had examined Vidagdha’s thesis, I wrote a letter to her all about him. She immediately sent the original letter to him at Santiniketan. Instead of writing to him directly, I wanted him to hear my praise of him in a sweet roundabout way.

23 November 1982

  My Beloved Sisir-da was unswervingly kind to me. He was unreservedly affectionate to me. He was unconditionally indulgent to me. He was undoubtedly an Himalayan mentor in my formative years at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. He showed me how an ocean of knowledge-light can at once lovingly and unassumingly play with a very tiny and shallow pond. My heart’s gratitude-flames I am most soulfully offering to his heart’s Compassion-Sun.

  Just yesterday, I went to a bookstore that has countless books. To my earthly excitement and my heavenly astonishment, the first book that my eyes caught was my Sisir-da’s unique “Mystics as a Force for Change.” Needless to say, I immediately bought the book. On my return home, while my greedy mind was devouring his Nectar-Light, my ready heart was swimming fast, very fast, in a sea of soulful tears. His descending fondness for me and my ascending admiration for him shall forever remain two self-transcending rivals.

  On the same afternoon, the mailman arrived as usual with a large quantity of letters. When I opened up your letter and discovered that one of your examiners was Dr. Sisir Kumar Ghose of Santiniketan, my immediate offering of gratitude to this supremely noble soul can only be felt and never, never be described. My world and his world are flooded with sweet memories.

  P.S. If I have spoken one single truth in this incarnation, then here is this truth: My Sisir-da’s Bengali handwriting and English handwriting have reached the unsurpassable heights. At the Ashram, I envied his handwriting and I shall always envy his handwriting. Who knows, perhaps in an unguarded moment he himself fell victim to envy when I was the fastest champion-sprinter in the Ashram. How I wish it could all be true! My aspiring oneness-heart categorically tells me that my Sisir-da’s life was of a totally different mould. Therefore, envy was, is and shall always remain a perfect stranger to him. Finally, I bow in all humility to a most precious diamond of Tagore’s Santiniketan.

  P.P.S. In his remarks on your thesis, he said that my “Ten Thousand Flower-Flames” would perhaps never be seen. At that time, I had completed only three or four hundred poems. Now I have completed five thousand. So the Indian bullock cart slowly and steadily, if not unerringly, is proceeding toward its destination.

Chinmoy

 

[Sri Chinmoy then added two hand-drawn birds. Under the larger one, he wrote Dr. S.K. Ghose in English and Bengali, and under the much smaller bird, he signed his own name. Because the birds have been scanned in from a photocopy of the original letter, they are very faint.]

 

19. Sisir-da and I become Reconciled

In December 1989, I travelled with my students to Egypt for our Christmas trip. From there, I flew to India for one week to visit my family. Sisir-da was in the Ashram at the time. He was staying in the main Ashram guest house, Golconde. So I went to see him there.

According to our Indian tradition, I said, “I have come.” Then I bent down and touched his feet. Sisir-da was, by that time, almost completely blind and so he could not see me at all. But from my voice, he recognised me.

He said, “You pagla! [madcap] Why are you touching my feet?” Then he went on, “All right, I have forgiven you.” He grabbed me most powerfully, the way he used to do, and made me stand up.

He said, “I was sulking for so many years, but today I have forgiven you.”

I asked, “Why? What have I done?”

Then he told me the whole story about how he saw me at the Samadhi so many years ago and I did not greet him or acknowledge him in any way.

I said, “Do you think gratitude is not born in my heart? Had I recognised you, I would definitely have acknowledged you. But I did not see you at all. I am not the only culprit. It is equally your fault. When I was young, you used to grab me by the shoulder and shower your affection on me. Have you removed your affection from me? Why then did you not compel me to stop, the way you used to do? Did you not see that I was in another world? Perhaps you were also in a very high consciousness. Otherwise, why did you not bring me down?”

Sisir-da replied, “No, you have become such a big shot. That is why you passed me by! But anyway, I forgive you, I forgive you.”


Then he asked me to sit by his side and he began showing me such affection, such affection. He was calling me, “O Guru of the world.” Then he reminded me that he was the first one to predict that I would come to America and create a commotion. It is absolutely true. When he had that vision, I had no plan, no sponsor, nothing.

At one point, I said to him, “Yes, you tell me that I am a big shot. How is it then that you did not send me a copy of your book on mysticism? You know that I love mysticism.”

Sisir-da’s immediate reply was: “If I had given you the book, you would not have touched it. I know you more than you do. Now you are showing off that you have read it. Just because you took the trouble of buying it, you have read it. Otherwise, you would not have touched it.”

We talked and talked for a long time. Our happy experiences and sad experiences blended together in our sweetest reminiscences. That was the last time I saw my Sisir-da. He passed away on April 16th, 1991.

 

A rare portrait of Sisir-da

 

20. Tagore’s Niece

When I paid my last respects to Sisir-da, he introduced me to Tagore’s niece, Parul Tagore. He called her Didi. I saw her for about ten or fifteen minutes. She is the one who devotedly took care of Sisir-da in the evening of his life when his vision began to fail. She would read to him and so forth. This elderly lady has a heart of tremendous affection and compassion.

 

21. Sisir-da’s House

Towards the end of his life, Sisir-da wanted to build a house at the Ashram and live there permanently. But there were some unfortunate problems with the builders and he was not at all satisfied with the result. It was a very sad experience for him. He gave the house to the Ashram and he stayed in the Ashram guest house. That was where I saw him for the last time.

 

22. An Ashram Boy

What kind of affection Sisir-da had for an Ashram boy! He saw something in me right from the beginning. And he himself was a well-respected scholar at Santiniketan and elsewhere.

Like Nolini-da, Champaklalji and K.D. Sethna, he approached me. Otherwise, how could a young boy dare to approach him? I had virtually no formal education; I did not even complete high school. On my own, how will I dare to ask these Ashram luminaries for anything?

After I had written my third poem in English, K.D. Sethna saw me at the main Ashram building. He came and embraced me. Then I became his messenger boy. I had to go to his place every day and carry the proofs of Mother India to the press. I did this work lovingly, devotedly and gratefully.

Then Champaklalji, who was Sri Aurobindo’s main assistant, commissioned me to do various errands for him. Next, Rajen-da, head of the Bengali section of the Ashram Library – whose unalloyed affection I treasure in the inmost recesses of my heart – insisted that I come and work at the Library because Mother had said I should do some mental work. At that time, I was washing dishes in the dining hall and I was so happy. My friends would come and throw their dishes in the tub in such a way that I would be completely soaked. But after Rajen-da received Mother’s message, I had to leave that job and go to work in the Library.

It was at the Library that Nolini-da found me and asked me to go and work for him. I translated Nolini-da’s writings from Bengali to English, and served him in various capacities most lovingly and devotedly.

Then one more job I received: Amrita-da, the Ashram General Manager, commanded me to sign checks for the Mother. Right under Mother’s signature, I had to write down in a neat hand “Mother M. Alfassa”. Then only the bank would accept the checks. Ironically, now that the Mother is no longer in the physical, the bank accepts without question checks that are made out simply to “The Mother”.

So, one by one, all the important figures employed me with affectionate commands and demands. I was so happy and proud to serve them and specially to be at Nolini-da’s beck and call.

 

23. Sisir-da’s Inner Direction

To my infinite joy, Sisir-da’s great-niece – Mahatapa – has now joined our path. I am absolutely certain that Sisir-da’s soul has brought her to me. He was her maternal grandfather’s youngest brother. In Bengali, we say “chotodadu”.

The last time Mahatapa and her parents saw Sisir-da, he said to them, “I have lost my eyesight, but it has given me a new vision.”

 

24. A Family Tradition

In front of hundreds of Ashramites, Sisir-da predicted my arrival in America two years prior to the actual date. Like her most illustrious great-uncle, Mahatapa predicted that I would visit Miami (where she was studying) three weeks prior to the day when I actually made my announcement. This kind of prediction-capacity is in their family tradition. Like great-uncle, like great-niece!

 

Sri Chinmoy’s Reminiscences

[On September 27th, 1997, Mahatapa brought her uncle, Arun Ghose, a retired Commodore in the Indian Navy, to meet Sri Chinmoy. This visit evoked so many sweet memories of Sisir-da for Sri Chinmoy and Sisir-da’s direct relatives. Sri Chinmoy celebrated the occasion by reading aloud his reminiscences of Sisir-da and by composing a special song in Bengali dedicated to him.]

Here Sri Chinmoy is standing with retired Commodore Arun Ghose and Mahatapa.

Sri Chinmoy reads his reminiscences of Dr. Sisirkumar Ghose

 

Sisirkumar Ghose

Bengali words by Sri Chinmoy:

Sisir-da, Sisir-da, Sisir-da
Sneha dhanya kripa dhanya ami tomar Chinmoy
Kusum hiyai tomar atmar ami gahi bijoy
Kabi gurur sebak bihag shantiniketaner dipak
Gyaner guner asim pathar Sisirkumar Ghose
Karun ankhi madhur hriday oishi paritosh
 

 

English translation by Mahatapa Palit:

Sisir-da, Sisir-da, Sisir-da!
I am your affection-blessed, compassion-blessed,
Your very own Chinmoy.
With a flower-heart I sing
Your soul’s victory-joy.
You are the avian servitor
Of the Master-Poet Rabindranath.
Of Shantiniketan,
You are the shining lamp.
Knowledge-talent’s boundless ocean –
Sisir Kumar Ghose!
You are the compassion-eye and
Sweetness-heart of Divine Satisfaction.

 

 

 

– End –

 

 

Appendix One DR. SISIRKUMAR GHOSE Biographical Sketch Born: May 1st, 1919 Education: B.A. (English Honours, Patna University, 1938) M.A. (English, Patna University, 1940) Chancellor’s Gold Medal for standing first in both B.A. and M.A. Ph.D. (English, Calcutta, 1950)   Teaching Experience: 42 years in total. Visiting Associate Professor in the USA (1961-62) Visiting Professor in Bulgaria (1972) Visiting Professor in Japan (1973) Rockefeller Scholar in Residence at Bellagio, Italy (1981) Professor of English, Vishwabharati, Santiniketan, West Bengal (1969-1984)   Academic Contributions: Contributed article on mysticism to the Encyclopaedia Britannica (1974).  Reprinted for ten years. President, All India English teachers Conference (1973) National Fellow (1974-76) National Lecturer (1982-83) Member, Board of Editors, Studies in Mystical Literature.   Selected Publications: The Later Poems of Tagore, 1961 Aldous Huxley: A Cynical Salvationist, 1962. Faith of a Poet: Selections from Tagore, 1964. Metaesthetics and Other Essays, 1966. Mystics and Society, 1968. The Poetry of Sri Aurobindo, 1969. The Shaping Imagination, 1973. Modern and Otherwise, 1974. Man and Society, 1977. Tagore, Sri Aurobindo and Iqbal, 1979. Sri Aurobindo: Poet and Social Thinker, 1979. Mystics as a Force for Change, 1981. [Foreword by Aldous Huxley] Lost Dimension, 1982. Rabindranath Tagore, 1986. Mysticism: Views and Reviews, 1987.   Selected Abridgements: Sri Aurobindo: The Life Divine The Synthesis of Yoga Essays on the Gita The Ideal of Human Unity The Future Poetry Rabindranath Tagore: The Religion of Man

 

Appendix Two Excerpts from Sisir-da’s Letters To Vidagdha Bennett9 “Chinmoy is a dear, old Friend, utterly generous in spite of the heights he has climbed. I am writing to him separately. So many memories! I am glad you did not mind my negative remarks on the thesis. I certainly enjoyed reading it and hope to see it in print one of these days. If and when you come to India, we shall meet. In the meantime – telepathy!” December 15th, 1982 “I finished working on a small book on Tagore. Excuse the name-dropping, the book was released on May 9 (Tagore’s 125th birthday) in Delhi by the Prime Minister.”10 June 16th, 1986 “[Sri Chinmoy’s] muscular feat is as remarkable as his meditative. I am sure people are impressed. There is a breakthrough in the relation between the spirit and the body under way. The weightlifting is the tip of the iceberg.” November 13th, 1986 “These days I move out every now and then, even if the eyes are not exactly normal. Tomorrow I go to a seminar in Delhi. Seminar on ‘Tradition: Its Continuity’ … I have a small paper on Tagore. Going against the popular, public image, I emphasize the Outsider (maybe because I am one). Spring days are ahead. Bloom, for ever bloom.” February 21st, 1987

 

Endnotes:
1 Dr. Sisirkumar Ghose was Mahatapa’s mother’s father’s brother.
2 Sri Chinmoy chose this photograph as the one that reminded him most powerfully of the Sisir-da that he knew.
3 Werner Haubrich – ‘Saumitra’ (meaning ‘friend’) – a coach from Germany, came to the Ashram to give training in athletics and swimming. He stayed for some months and then returned to Germany.
4 In some versions of the story, Sri Chinmoy says, “… and he will make a big noise!”
5 Refer: K. D. Sethna
6 Amal Kiran is the beautiful spiritual name given to K.D. Sethna by Sri Aurobindo. It means ‘purity’.
7 Refer: Amiya Chakravarty
8 Vidagdha Bennett.
9 I corresponded with Sisir-da regularly from 1982 until a year or so before his passing, when he became blind.
10 Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi released the monograph.

 

Copyright © 2009, Vidagdha Bennett. All rights reserved.

Compiled by Vidagdha Bennett

The following incidents were narrated by Sri Chinmoy at different times.

	Sri Chinmoy took this photo of his first Bengali teacher, Prabhakar Mukherji, in the summer of 1972, when he returned to Pondicherry for a short visit.

 

1. My first Bengali teacher was my greatest admirer. His name was Prabhakar. He taught me Bengali and Sanskrit. I was not even six months in his class when he wrote an article about me! It was 26 pages long. This happened in 1944, the year I joined the Ashram. I was just a little kid and he had to write an article about me, saying what he saw in me and so on. Can you imagine!

Then he invited all the students to come to his place and listen to him reading the article. He offered them some milk and fruit and so forth, so they went. Such was his love for me.

2. I have always been a great admirer of Shivaji. At the Sri Aurobindo Ashram where I grew up, our teachers used to give us marks out of four. If you got four out of four, it was excellent; if you got three, it was very good; two was good; one was fair and zero was ‘tolerable’.

One time my Bengali teacher asked us all to write an essay on Shivaji. We had to write it in the classroom, not as homework. I was at that time around thirteen or fourteen years old. The teacher was so pleased with my essay that he gave me eight out of four! The principal came to know of it and he said to this particular teacher, “Are you crazy? How can you give eight out of four?” Then they had a serious altercation.

By giving me eight out of four for my essay on Shivaji, my Bengali teacher – who was so fond of me – got into trouble with the principal!¹

3. Whenever I finished some poems, I used to literally run to my Bengali teacher, no matter how busy he happened to be. I was so anxious to get a little word of appreciation from him. I would come with three or four poems and he used to appreciate them with utmost sincerity. So many things he used to see and feel in my poems. Never, never did he discourage me.

There are many poets who give up because they are unbearably criticised. They are cursed because of undivine criticism. But my Bengali teacher was always so kind to me.

4. My Bengali teacher was so fond of me. One funny incident I remember. He liked to smoke, but he did not smoke in front of us. He used to smoke at home late at night. Once I was passing by his house. It was ten o’clock at night. I saw him outside in the street smoking. As soon as he saw me, he did not extinguish his cigarette, he just put it inside his pocket! Then he started talking rubbish, pretending that nothing was wrong. He was positive that I did not know about the cigarette.

I had begged him so many times to stop smoking. So when I caught him, I said to myself, “Let your pocket burn!”

We chatted for a few minutes and then, as I was leaving, I said to my poor teacher, “By the way, I know the condition of your pocket!”

5. In 1955, when I published my first book of poetry in the Ashram, I asked him to write the Introduction. The book is called Flame-Waves and it came out on my 24th birthday. This is what he wrote:

INTRODUCTION

To introduce a poet to the public is sometimes almost as tempting as to be oneself a bard; especially when the author is a close relation of the introducer and when the former is more gifted than the latter.

Just eleven years ago, one day as I was busy with my students in the Bengali class in our Ashram School, a boy of thirteen was brought to me. I found myself looking for the first time into Chinmoy’s intelligent but innocent and simple face. In a couple of years he joined my Sanskrit class, after having been initiated into that language by his eldest brother Hriday Ranjan, who is a devoted student of the Rig Veda and a lover of poetry.

Within a few days, Chinmoy brought me some Bengali poems of his, not in a spirit of display but for correction. I took his manuscript and without his knowledge showed it to the Secretary of our Ashram, Nolini Kanta Gupta, who is a celebrated savant and a front-rank writer. It was returned with the comment, “The boy has merit; encourage him, he will produce even better poetry in the future.” The present book has also been seen in manuscript.

In 1946, the poet rendered Sri Aurobindo’s story ‘Kshamar Adarsha’ (Ideal of Forgiveness) into Bengali verses – no less than two hundred lines. Poet Nirod Baran took it to our Master who remarked: “It is a fine piece of poetry. He has capacity. Tell him to continue.” The poem was published in a journal in March 1948, with an appreciative Editorial note.

Somewhere in 1950, while one evening I was all alone, absorbed, in my room, Chinmoy suddenly knocked at my silence, and soon a heap of typed sheets was before my eyes. They were all ‘Prayers’ in English, composed in prose but with a fragrance of genuine poetry.

Since 1953, he has been contributing now and again to ‘Mother India’. I thank its Editor K.D. Sethna, a prominent poet of modern India in English as well as an erudite exponent of Sri Aurobindo-Literature, for his encouragement and advice to the young poet in various ways.

Romen, the author of ‘The Golden Apocalypse’, also deserves my thanks for giving Chinmoy a push on the path of English poetry.

Lastly, a word of thanks to Chinmoy himself for choosing me to write this Introduction. He is too unassuming to ask for appreciation, but when some one suggested my name, he exclaimed, “Oh! I got inspiration from him in my younger days, that continues even now. And who else will appreciate me so affectionately?”

Though perhaps out of place here, yet it is interesting to note that Chinmoy got the Blessings of our Mother and Sri Aurobindo as early as 1933, when he came here for the first time as a child of a little above twelve months! May he continue to receive their Grace!

‘Flame-Waves’ is the maiden work of the author, dedicated to our Mother Divine as a humble offering on his own birthday, on the 27th of August, 1955. The title, of course, indicates the Aspiration in the inner being of the poet, at once flowing and fiery, wide-spreading and upward-leaping.

Prabhakar Mukherji

Sri Aurobindo International University Centre,
Pondicherry,
27-8-1955

6. Chinmoy’s brother Chitta was extremely proud of his younger brother’s literary endowments and especially grateful to Prabhakar Mukherji for encouraging him. In his notebooks, Chitta writes:

“Right from his childhood, Madal had a tremendous desire to write books and print books. I am so grateful to God that He has fulfilled my youngest brother’s desire. In 1955, when Madal’s first book in English,“Flame-Waves”, was published, his Bengali teacher, Prabhakar Mukherjee, who was all affection and love for Chinmoy because he was by far the best student in his Bengali class, in his introduction wrote:

‘In 1946 the poet [Chinmoy] rendered Sri Aurobindo’s Bengali story, Kshamar Adarsha, ‘The Ideal of Forgiveness’, into Bengali verse – no less than 200 lines. The poet Nirodbaran took it to our Master, who remarked: “It is a fine piece of poetry. He has capacity. Tell him to continue.” ’ [That was Sri Aurobindo’s remark.]

The poem was published in a journal, Partha Sarathi, in March 1948 with an appreciative editorial note. He had written this poem when he was 14 years old. At such a tender age, he showed his great talent. No wonder he has become a celebrated poet! We noticed all along in Chinmoy the influence of Tagore, Vivekananda and Sri Aurobindo. When Chinmoy was in his teens, we saw in Chinmoy – Tagore, the manifold capacity; Vivekananda, the indomitable hero; and Sri Aurobindo, the founder of Integral Yoga.” ²

– End –

 

Endnotes:
1 Sri Chinmoy, Shivaji, Agni Press,1997.
2 Sri Chinmoy, My Brother Chitta, Agni Press,1998.

 

.   An Ashram Jewel: Mulshankar Stories by Chinmoy Compiled by Vidagdha Bennett One day I was going to the volleyball court. On the way, I met one of Sri Aurobindo’s main assistants. This gentleman used to massage Sri Aurobindo. His name was Mulshankar and I liked him very much. He was just going home after being upstairs in Sri Aurobindo’s room. He was so excited to see me. Read more…   .

Chinmoy’s First Bengali Teacher: Prabhakar Mukherji Stories by Chinmoy Compiled by Vidagdha Bennett My first Bengali teacher was my greatest admirer. His name was Prabhakar. He taught me Bengali and Sanskrit. I was not even six months in his class when he wrote an article about me! It was 26 pages long. This happened in 1944, the year I joined the Ashram. Read more…   .

Chinmoy’s Mentor: Dr. Sisirkumar Ghose Stories by Chinmoy Compiled by Vidagdha Bennett These stories were told by Sri Chinmoy over many years. He read the entire collection aloud to Arun Ghose, Mahatapa’s uncle and the nephew of Sisir-da, during Arun’s visit to New York on September 27th, 1997. At that time, Sri Chinmoy made many additions and improvements to the manuscript. The stories are all presented in his first-person speaking voice, as they were originally recorded. Read more…   .

K.D. Sethna (Amal Kiran) Stories by Chinmoy Compiled by Vidagdha Bennett K.D. Sethna is a renowned scholar, poet, cultural critic and philosopher, as well as the author of more than forty books. In addition, he is the founding editor of Mother India, a monthly cultural and literary magazine. K.D. Sethna is one of those who recognised Chinmoy’s budding poetic gifts and he became one of Chinmoy’s mentors. Read more...   .

Sahana Devi Stories by Chinmoy Compiled by Vidagdha Bennett I shall tell you a few stories about a singer of the supreme heights. Her name was Sahana Devi. She lived at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram as a most ardent disciple of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother for more than sixty years before she passed away in 1990. During my Ashram days, I basked in the sunshine of her affection. Read more...   .

T.V. Kapali Sastry Stories by Chinmoy Compiled by Vidagdha Bennett Sri Kapali Sastry (1886-1953) was a highly respected Vedic scholar and Sanskrit authority. Even after he became Sri Aurobindo’s disciple and entered the Ashram, he continued to write many commentaries and definitive works. The young Chinmoy had the immense good fortune to study under him in the Ashram school and the following anecdotes capture his love and respect for this great soul. Read more…   .

by Vidagdha Bennett

In Sri Chinmoy’s teachings, a vegetarian lifestyle plays a most significant role in the life of a spiritual seeker. He believed that a vegetarian diet can greatly enhance the seeker’s purity and inner aspiration, and help that individual to make faster progress. He explained:  

When we eat meat, fish and so forth, the aggressive, animal consciousness enters into us. Our nerves become agitated; we unconsciously become restless and aggressive. The mild qualities of vegetables, on the other hand, help us to establish in our inner life as well as in our outer life, the qualities of sweetness, softness, simplicity and purity.

Earth’s Cry Meets Heaven’s Smile, Part 1

Again, he insisted that merely becoming a vegetarian was no guarantee of spiritual progress:

Just by becoming a vegetarian one will not realise God. It is impossible! Many people have followed strict vegetarian diets, but there are not very many people on earth who have realised God. In India, all widows of respectable families are supposed to be vegetarians. But if you count all Indian widows, you will not find many God-realised souls among them. Unless these women pray and meditate most sincerely and devotedly, they will make very little spiritual progress.

 

If you stop eating fish and meat you will not realise God overnight. Far from it! You must not expect such great results from so small an effort. But your aspiration will be increased. Your mild qualities, soft qualities, aspiring qualities will come to the fore sooner. Everything depends on how fast you want to make progress. If you feel that each second counts, if you feel that there is no end to your goal, then the best thing is to achieve the things that are ahead of you as soon as possible.

The Body: Humanity’s Fortress

 

In essence, he was a liberal vegetarian, encouraging eggs and dairy products. His only requirement was that his disciples do not consume meat, fish or fowl. He also advised his disciples to embark on this dietary path gradually, rather than renounce all meat overnight and perhaps cause the physical body to revolt as a result. In this and in many other respects, he was an eminently practical spiritual Guide.

 

The curious thing is, although Sri Chinmoy himself abstained from eating meat from the time he joined the Sri Aurobindo Ashram in 1944 until he passed away in 2007 at age 76, he did not actually dislike the taste of meat. In fact, he was brought up on it for the first twelve years of his life and he was wont to recall those days with some fondness. Since he knew I came from a strong meat background (my father was a tallow merchant and exporter of livestock), I was sometimes on the receiving end of these whimsical asides.

 

The following very interesting revelations were recorded over a dinner he attended with a number of disciples at a restaurant in Japan on January 9th, 1997. In this relaxed atmosphere, Sri Chinmoy mused:  

 

When I lived in Chittagong, was there any day that I did not eat fish? Without fish and without rice, Bengalis do not exist. No Bengali can live without fish and rice. Since I started eating proper food from the age of two or three, every day I ate fish and meat three or four days a week. All kinds of fish we had, but one particular fish had salt in it. We used to call it ‘chilka’ or something like that. It was very tasty.

 

As far as meat goes, we had duck, turtle, goat, lamb and pigeon. Meat was more limited, that is why we only had four or five kinds, but we had at least twelve or fifteen varieties of fish. Fish was unlimited; meat limited.

 

Chicken and beef we could not eat. We only went up to goat. Lamb, of course, both the religions ate. Lamb meat was so good. Lamb meat is so mild, but it is so warm, hot. It is very energetic. I used to like lamb more than goat.

 

Again, turtle is very good. You have to be very, very clever when you catch a turtle, otherwise, the turtle will take away your fingers. If the turtle can catch your finger—finished! Some people lose their fingers to turtles. Always when you catch a turtle from the pond, you have to turn it over. Then it is helpless; it cannot do anything. That is also how you cut the meat. But if it is kept in the normal way, it will bite you; it will take away your fingers. While the turtle is going away, you have to remain behind it and then quickly turn it with your arms. You can do it on land or in the water.

 

In Chittagong, there is a pond where the turtles are four hundred or five hundred years old. Those turtles were once upon a time human beings. But one Muslim spiritual Master was so angry with his favourite disciples that he turned them into turtles. About twenty turtles are there. He got furious with them. And then, after turning them into turtles, he changed their names. Before, they had human names and then he started calling them Bajali, Majali and all kinds of names like that. These turtles are so huge! If you look at their eyes, immediately you will feel that they were human beings. There are some monkeys, if you look at them you can see that they are going to take human incarnation in the near future, but these turtles were formerly human beings. Alas, the Muslim spiritual Master was so disappointed and disgusted that he cursed them.

(Unpublished)

Sacred turtle in the pond at the shrine of Hazrat Bayazid Bastami near Chittagong.

The sacred turtles to which Sri Chinmoy refers are to be found at the dargah (shrine) of Hazrat Bayazid Bastami, a Persian Sufi Saint who is believed to have visited Chittagong in the ninth century. His shrine is located on the remote Nasirabad Hill, about five miles from Chittagong. In front of the shrine is a dighi (water tank), which is home to a number of huge, freshwater turtles. They happen to be black, soft-shelled, three-clawed turtles (Aspideretes nigricans)—a rare and critically endangered species. These turtles are highly unusual in appearance, having a relatively long neck and a snout elongated into a proboscis. And, in this protected environment, floating lazily by the edge of the pond, handfed tidbits by pilgrims and tourists on a daily basis, they have grown to an enormous size. If, as legend has it, they are doomed to spend many hundreds of years there for having incurred the wrath of the Saint, the gentle Chittagonians have certainly made their lives as comfortable as possible. Like many other cultures around the world, they believe the turtle is a holy creature, symbolising longevity. The Saint clearly intended his disciples to dwell on their faults at great length!

And yet, in another story about the Bastami, Sri Chinmoy talks of the Saint’s compassion and indicates that he fully intended to give his recalcitrant disciples a reprieve at some future date:

 

The shrine of Persian Sufi Saint Hazrat Bayazid Bastami near Chittagong.

 

In India there was once a Muslim mendicant who had a certain amount of occult power. His name was Bajit Bastami. In Chittagong there is a special place where many Muslims worship him. Even the Hindus have tremendous love for him.

 

In a pond near his tomb there are fifteen or twenty very large turtles that were actually human beings once upon a time. Bajit Bastami got angry at these people because they were unkind to him, so he turned them into turtles. He gave them all names: Rajali, Majali, Pulali and so on. He said that when the time came, he would turn them into human beings once again—not ordinary human beings, but great human beings. Because they were going through such severe punishment, he said that some time in the future his compassion would help them become great human beings.

Illumination-Experiences on Indian Soil, Part 2

 

Returning to the subject of Sri Chinmoy’s childhood meat-eating days, he made mention of that period in his life in 1986 when he went to visit a British friend by the name of Jim Smith, who was at one time the Registrar of Records for the British Amateur Weight Lifters’ Association:  

[Jim Smith] lives about an hour and a half from London on a farm. There he has a flock of sheep and some cows. One of the rams was very bad-tempered, so he had to grab it by the horns . . . He also has six or seven ducks, which he wanted to show me. I said, “Oh, this reminds me of my Chittagong days. Every week there I used to eat duck and duck eggs.”

 

He couldn’t believe it. He never eats duck, but he eats chicken and chicken eggs, which I never ate. He said he also eats fish. I said, “I used to eat fish every day. And until the age of eleven or twelve, I used to eat turtle and duck.”

My Weightlifting Tears and Smiles, Part 2

Another rare insight is the following from 1992:  

Before I accepted the spiritual life, I used to eat fish and meat to my heart’s content. The Western world eats mainly chicken and beef, but we ate duck, goat, lamb, turtle and pigeon.

 

My sisters used to cook. A Brahmin servant and one ordinary servant also cooked. God alone knows what my mother cooked! Her cooking was sitting in the temple for hours and hours praying and meditating. I don’t think she ever cooked.

 

Normally, we would all eat together, but on Saturdays and Sundays, when my father was home from town, my mother wouldn’t eat with me or my brothers because of her respect for my father. She would eat all by herself or with my sisters while the father and sons were eating together.

My Father Shashi Kumar Ghosh

In many ways, this protein-rich diet proved to be an excellent foundation for the young boy and was perhaps integral to his later athletic prowess, for once he joined the Sri Aurobindo Ashram no meat, fish or fowl were allowed to be consumed and his diet became markedly deficient in protein as a result.

Curiously, as an addendum to this section on Madal’s diet, he also underwent a most unusual ritual of eating a live fish. This was in accordance with an old Bengali village superstition. Even though he was only three years old at the time of this ordeal, the memory of that day remained with him vividly:  

When I was three years old, my horoscope was drawn up for the second time by the village astrologer. There he predicted that as an infant I would die in water. Everybody in the family was so shocked and upset. My cousin Pushpita, who is almost the same age as my brother Chitta, was the one to do something about it. That same day she took me to our nearest pond.

 

In Chittagong villages, we have a superstition that if you eat a live fish you will be able to learn to swim very easily. So, first of all, she gave me a tiny fish to swallow. I put it in my mouth and, with great difficulty, I managed to swallow it. I suffered a lot, but I really wanted to learn to swim, so I gladly obeyed her.

 

Then my cousin put me on her back and she began swimming around in the pond. I was holding onto her and moving my legs. In a few minutes I learnt how to do frog kick. After we had practiced for some time, we came out of the water. My cousin lifted me onto her shoulder and carried me home to my mother. She was so happy and delighted with my progress.

 

My poor mother had been very frightened by my horoscope prediction, but my cousin was able to convince her that I would not die if I was thrown into the water because I knew how to swim. In spite of my cousin’s sincere attempt to cancel my fate, my horoscope prediction was almost infallible.¹

My Brother Chitta

Many children put things in their mouths as a matter of course, but the experience of swallowing a live, cold and presumably wriggling fish was clearly one that could not be forgotten, even across the span of many decades. As the writer M.M. Kaye observes about one of her central characters, “Like most children the world over, he was resigned to the curious behaviour of grown-ups and accepted it as part of the scheme of things.”

One final point to make is that Sri Chinmoy did not cast judgement on those spiritual figures of the past who chose to eat meat and fish. Nor did he call into question their lofty experiences and sublime realisations. In this connection, he used to make special mention of Lord Buddha, the Christ, Sri Aurobindo and Swami Vivekananda—who were all, at various stages of their lives, non-vegetarians.

Once, when one overzealous disciple asked Sri Chinmoy—“When a person knows that he is on the path of God, won’t meat automatically become repulsive to him from within?”—Sri Chinmoy answered, pointedly:

You are judging others from your own point of view. Swami Vivekananda and other spiritual persons ate meat even to the last day of their lives. We cannot say that Swami Vivekananda was inferior to us spiritually or in any other way. There are some spiritual figures who do continue to eat meat and fish both before and after their realisation. You had the experience of finding meat repulsive when you went deep within and reached a certain stage, but this is not an inevitable experience.

The Body: Humanity’s Fortress

I am reminded of a personal experience in this regard. When a group of us were visiting Kagoshima, Japan, with Sri Chinmoy in January 1997, I happened to experience severe tooth pain. Late one night, unable to sleep, I went down into the small hotel lobby to sit. Quite unexpectedly, around 3:30 am, the elevator doors opened and Sri Chinmoy stepped out for his early morning walk. He was surprised to see me and when he discovered the reason for my lonely lobby vigil, he tut-tutted sympathetically before disappearing into the darkened streets outside. Some thirty minutes later, he returned, carrying a plastic bag, which he handed to me in silence. After he had entered the elevator, I looked inside and discovered a container of hot soup. Turning it round, I noticed the English label and read with a smile: “Hearty Beef Broth.”

On another much earlier occasion, also in Japan, Sri Chinmoy and a number of us were guests at a formal Japanese lunch. We all sat on the floor on tatami mats and were served bento boxes full of unfamiliar, exotic-looking food. Most of us had no idea what we were consuming. We were all tentatively plying our chopsticks when one of Sri Chinmoy’s Japanese students came running up to him and announced, in a flustered voice, “Guru, don’t eat the pink things. They are fish cakes!”

It is no exaggeration to say that we all looked up aghast. Most of us had already eaten our ‘pink things’ with the delicate, scalloped edges. What now? Then came Sri Chinmoy’s calm and measured voice, “Eat it, eat it. Just take it as cake.”

I am sure it is as much a mistake to take the exception for the rule as it is the reverse. Sri Chinmoy was definitely not in favour of his disciples eating meat or fish, yet we can see that he was willing to adjust this principal under special circumstances. It only goes to show that the outer actions of a spiritual Master are often beyond our understanding.

On January 20th, 2003, in Cairns, Australia, Sri Chinmoy elaborated on this theme:  

Who can understand a spiritual Master’s ways? With the ordinary human mind, we can never, never know the Master’s ways. They are inscrutable.

 

Sri Ramakrishna would tell one person, “Go and eat meat. Nothing will happen.” To another person, he would say, “All restlessness will enter you if you eat meat. You must never eat meat!”

 

If the first person would eat meat, his consciousness would not be disturbed in the slightest. If the second person would eat meat, the restlessness of the animals would enter into him instantly and take him into the abysmal abyss of his consciousness.

 

After he realised God, Swami Vivekananda used to eat meat and fish. His fellow brothers and other critics used to say, “O my God, he is eating meat! He has definitely fallen.”

 

Swami Vivekananda would answer, “When I was poverty-stricken, you did not give me even one cent! Such kind-hearted people you were! Now I am in a position to eat meat and you are criticising me mercilessly. Is eating meat taking away my spirituality? Am I descending? You are such well-wishers! Where was your sympathy when I was without any money for weeks on end?”

 

Sri Aurobindo is another one. He used to eat a whole chicken regularly for a year, even when he was in his high, higher, highest consciousness. Nothing affected him. Then, while he was writing his magnum opus ‘The Life Divine’, his servant used to come to him with a very large Burmese cigar. He would smoke to get inspiration. This is all written in official books on Sri Aurobindo’s life.

 

Sri Ramakrishna, a great Master of the highest heights, quite often used to smoke a hookah before he entered into his highest meditation. In most cases, when people smoke, they cannot raise their consciousness even an iota. Even if someone smokes next to someone who does not smoke, it is all finished for the non-smoker. That unfortunate person will not be able to go higher at all!

 

In Lord Buddha’s case, a man gave him poisonous meat and then the Buddha died. As he lay dying, when someone asked him about the man who had poisoned him, Lord Buddha said, “Forgive him! Forgive him! He has not done this intentionally.”

 

In our spiritual life, we all have to know how much capacity we have.

(Unpublished)

On February 19th, 2004, at his house in New York, he returned to the same theme, emphatically:  

It is very, very difficult to understand spiritual figures. Never try to understand them. Your self-doubts will only destroy you. Never, never try to understand any spiritual Master. They are far, far beyond our understanding. We make the most deplorable mistake when we want to understand them. Never try to understand them. If you want to understand, you will only cause serious problems for yourself.

 

Then, with reference to God, he concluded:

I never try to understand Him. He loves me far beyond my imagination.

(Unpublished)

 

– End –

 

Copyright © 2009, Vidagdha Bennett. All rights reserved under Creative Commons license.

 

Endnote:
1 Sri Chinmoy is referring to the fact that when he was five years old, he was returning from town with his brother Chitta when they were caught in a wild storm and the ferry in which they were travelling sprang a leak. Soon it began to sink. Alas, assistance was not forthcoming. At that very moment, Sri Chinmoy writes, “a boat sprang up, empty, from the depths of the waters . . . In no time the boatman caught hold of me and threw me into the empty boat.” (Awakening) Thus, the young child and all the other passengers were saved by help from above and Madal’s horoscope prediction was not fulfilled.