Lahiri Mahasaya - Ever-Present

[Guest guest]

An Interview with

the Sacred Mother

 

"Reverend Mother, I was baptized in infancy by your prophet-husband.

He was the guru of my parents and of my own guru Sri Yukteswarji.

Will you therefore give me the privilege of hearing a few incidents

in your sacred life?"

I was addressing Srimati Kashi Moni, the life-companion of Lahiri

Mahasaya. Finding myself in Benares for a short period, I was

fulfilling a long-felt desire to visit the venerable lady. She

received me graciously at the old Lahiri homestead in the Garudeswar

Mohulla section of Benares. Although aged, she was blooming like a

lotus, silently emanating a spiritual fragrance. She was of medium

build, with a slender neck and fair skin. Large, lustrous eyes

softened her motherly face.

"Son, you are welcome here. Come upstairs."

Kashi Moni led the way to a very small room where, for a time, she had

lived with her husband. I felt honored to witness the shrine in which

the peerless master had condescended to play the human drama of

matrimony. The gentle lady motioned me to a pillow seat by her side.

 

"It was years before I came to realize the divine stature of my husband," she began.

"One night, in this very room, I had a vivid dream. Glorious angels

floated in unimaginable grace above me. So realistic was the sight

that I awoke at once; the room was strangely enveloped in dazzling

light.

"My husband, in lotus posture, was levitated in the center of the

room, surrounded by angels who were worshiping him with the

supplicating dignity of palm-folded hands. Astonished beyond measure,

I was convinced that I was still dreaming.

"'Woman,' Lahiri Mahasaya said, 'you are not dreaming. Forsake your

sleep forever and forever.' As he slowly descended to the floor, I

prostrated myself at his feet.

"'Master,' I cried, 'again and again I bow before you! Will you pardon

me for having considered you as my husband? I die with shame to

realize that I have remained asleep in ignorance by the side of one

who is divinely awakened. From this night, you are no longer my

husband, but my guru. Will you accept my insignificant self as your

disciple?'

"The master touched me gently. 'Sacred soul, arise. You are accepted.'

He motioned toward the angels. 'Please bow in turn to each of these

holy saints.'

"When I had finished my humble genuflections, the angelic voices

sounded together, like a chorus from an ancient scripture.

"'Consort of the Divine One, thou art blessed. We salute thee.' They

bowed at my feet and lo! their refulgent forms vanished. The room

darkened.

"My guru asked me to receive initiation into Kriya Yoga.

"'Of course,' I responded. 'I am sorry not to have had its blessing earlier in my life.'

 

"'The time was not ripe.' Lahiri Mahasaya smiled consolingly. 'Much of

your karma I have silently helped you to work out. Now you are willing

and ready.'

"He touched my forehead. Masses of whirling light appeared; the

radiance gradually formed itself into the opal-blue spiritual eye,

ringed in gold and centered with a white pentagonal star.

"'Penetrate your consciousness through the star into the kingdom of

the Infinite.' My guru's voice had a new note, soft like distant

music.

"Vision after vision broke as oceanic surf on the shores of my soul.

The panoramic spheres finally melted in a sea of bliss. I lost myself

in ever-surging blessedness. When I returned hours later to awareness

of this world, the master gave me the technique of Kriya Yoga.

"From that night on, Lahiri Mahasaya never slept in my room again.

Nor, thereafter, did he ever sleep. He remained in the front room

downstairs, in the company of his disciples both by day and by

night."

The illustrious lady fell into silence. Realizing the uniqueness of

her relationship with the sublime yogi, I finally ventured to ask for

further reminiscences.

"Son, you are greedy. Nevertheless you shall have one more story." She

smiled shyly. "I will confess a sin which I committed against my

guru-husband. Some months after my initiation, I began to feel

forlorn and neglected. One morning Lahiri Mahasaya entered this

little room to fetch an article; I quickly followed him. Overcome by

violent delusion, I addressed him scathingly.

"'You spend all your time with the disciples. What about your

responsibilities for your wife and children? I regret that you do not

interest yourself in providing more money for the family.'

"The master glanced at me for a moment, then lo! he was gone. Awed and

frightened, I heard a voice resounding from every part of the room:

"'It is all nothing, don't you see? How could a nothing like me produce riches for you?'

"'Guruji,' I cried, 'I implore pardon a million times! My sinful eyes

can see you no more; please appear in your sacred form.'

"'I am here.' This reply came from above me. I looked up and saw the

master materialize in the air, his head touching the ceiling. His

eyes were like blinding flames. Beside myself with fear, I lay

sobbing at his feet after he had quietly descended to the floor.

"'Woman,' he said, 'seek divine wealth, not the paltry tinsel of

earth. After acquiring inward treasure, you will find that outward

supply is always forthcoming.' He added, 'One of my spiritual sons

will make provision for you.'

"My guru's words naturally came true; a disciple did leave a considerable sum for our family."

I thanked Kashi Moni for sharing with me her wondrous experiences. On

the following day I returned to her home and enjoyed several hours of

philosophical discussion with Tincouri and Ducouri Lahiri. These two

saintly sons of India's great yogi followed closely in his ideal

footsteps. Both men were fair, tall, stalwart, and heavily bearded,

with soft voices and an old-fashioned charm of manner.

His wife was not the only woman disciple of Lahiri Mahasaya; there

were hundreds of others, including my mother. A woman chela once

asked the guru for his photograph.

He handed her a print, remarking, "If you deem it a protection, then

it is so; otherwise it is only a picture."

Dear friends,

When i was ten years old arthritis presented in my life and has

remained my constant companion since. Not long after i became ill my

father, who worked for the state in the field of agriculture, was out

on the road surveying orchards in Butte County. He had stopped by a

river to eat his lunch and he settled down under a tree with a heavy

heart, for he carried the Heart-breaking burden of a father who had

to watch his Beloved child endure endless pain and a constant,

relentless destruction of the body through joint deteriorization. He

felt helpless in a way that might be rightly understood if one has

ever had or has a child who is stricken with a catastrophic illness.

As he was trying to make sense out of a completely senseless act, (or

so it seemed to my Dear father) a stranger appeared from seemingly

nowhere. Father could see the road for a long way, clearly, in both

directions and yet he saw no car anywhere and he had heard no

approach of any vehicle.

The stranger asked if he might sit with him a spell. Being always kind

to anyone and always ready to be the open Heart of Friendship, my

father offered him his company and his time. The man spoke tenderly

to Father, saying, "I know your Heart is heavy and you are worried

about your daughter, aren't you?"

My father told me that he felt a complete sense of being able to speak

freely, wanting to actually talk with this stranger, open up and share

his great sadness and worries about the current situation concerning

me. So he said to the man, "Yes. My daughter is ill and i feel

helpless to do anything to alleviate her suffering. She is my

treasure, my sunshine and my Heart is breaking for her. i feel as if

I am drowning and she is drowning and i cannot reach her to save her

from this calamity."

The man looked steadily into my father's eyes and said to him, "Have

no fear about your Dear child. She will be alright. She is Loved more

than you can fathom right now and she will never be harmed and she

will never succomb to the tortures that are appearing as this disease

in her precious body."

Father could say nothing. He could only sit there silently being

embraced by some Incomprehensible Love and Joy that was seemingly

coming from this stranger before him. He felt as if he knew the man

but could not recall where or when they might have met before. He

could only sit there beside him with tears of some strange

blissfulness streaming down his face. The man stood up to depart and

as he did so he put his hand on my Dear father's shoulder, saying to

him, "Have no fear and entertain no worries about Mazie. She will be

fine. She will always be safe in Your Love."

And then as mysteriously as he had appeared, the strange and

compellingly attractive man disappeared around the bend in the river.

All was hushed and so silent around the river and the orchard that my

father sat speechless as he recalled to himself, "I didn't tell that

man my daughter's name, and yet he said it now as he was leaving.

Hmmm. Perhaps i spoke it aloud and have just forgotten in my

amazement and in this strange and calm mood i have fallen into."

This story was related to my mother, myself and my siblings that

evening when we were all gathered around the dinner table. We were

all held in rapt attention as my father shared it with us, but none

were more captivated and intrigued than i was. And life went on and

the disease progressed on and we all went about our lives as people

do. But i remained ever aware of the words that the stranger had so

kindly offered to my father concerning me, "Have no fear about your

Dear child. She will be alright. She is Loved..."

Twenty years later as i was sharing about the life of my Gurudeva,

Paramahansa Yoganandaji, and also the lives of his guru and

paramgurus, i opened a book and showed him the pictures of these

Divine Beings of Love and Wisdom. As his eyes fell upon the picture

of Lahiri Mahasaya he exclaimed excitedly, "That's him! That's the

stranger who came and comforted me by the river when you were only

ten years old! Who is he and how can i find him to thank him for that

exchange?" You see, my father knew virtually nothing of my spiritual

life and had no idea if these men were dead or alive. i said to my

father, "That's Lahiri Mahasaya and he has been gone from this

earth-plane since the late eighteen hundreds." My father and i sat

speechless and stunned at this revelation before us now. My Dear

father, unable to comprehend the enormity of this thing that we were

having unfold to us, never said another word about it again. Father

died the next year and the evening he fell and went into a coma from

which he never recovered consciousness, i dreamed of a man who came

to my garden and cut off the topmost, most beautiful orange rose from

the only tree-rose in the garden.

That man in the dream was none other than Lahiri Mahasaya, come again

to tell me, to comfort me with the same offering of Love and Bliss,

"Have no fear about your Dear father. He will be alright. He is

Loved...."

LoveAlways,

MazieChat with friends online, try MSN Messenger: Click Here

Attachment: (image/pjpeg) Lahiri Mahashaya.jpg [not stored]

[Guest guest]

Thank you, Beloved.

 

God Is Gracious!

 

Last night i offered

Tootsie Roll Pop Prasad

at the Murti of Lahiri.

 

Since entering again this

Proximity of You, i

notice many Happy Friends

hover round now.

 

They all seem to

get along, so

They can stay --

 

They obviously like

Your Garden,

too!

 

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

b

[Guest guest]

on 9/10/02 10:35 AM, Mazie Lane at sraddha54 wrote:

> That man in the dream was none other than Lahiri Mahasaya, come again to tell

> me, to comfort me with the same offering of Love and Bliss, "Have no fear

> about your Dear father. He will be alright. He is Loved...."

>

> LoveAlways,

>

> Mazie

 

 

Thank you Mazie. Wonderful story. Imust print out a picture for protection.

It's been so long since I read the Autobiography of a Yogi, it was I think

the first book that introduced me to the world of Eastern spirituality. And

what a wonderful world it is...

 

you are love and loved

Shawn