THE MAHARSHI 7-8/1998

December 24, 2004

THE MAHARSHI

July / August 1998Vol. 8 - No. 3

Produced & Edited byDennis HartelDr. Anil K. Sharma

Sinners and a Muslim's Prayer By Voruganti Krishnayya

BHAGAVAN was most tender with people who thought themselves for some reason or other to be miserable sinners and who went to him torn by repentance.

During summer evenings we used to sit in the open space near the well. We would collect in the dining hall for dinner and come back to the well. Suddenly, one day, a visitor started weeping bitterly, "I am a horrible sinner. For a long time I have been coming to your feet, but there is no change in me. Can I become pure at last? How long am I to wait? When I am here near you I am good for a time, but when I leave this place I become a beast again. You cannot imagine how bad I can be-hardly a human being. Am I to remain a sinner forever?"

Bhagavan answered: "Why do you come to me? What have I to do with you? What is there between us that you should come here and weep and cry in front of me?"

The man started moaning and crying even more, as if his heart were breaking. "All my hopes of salvation are gone. You were my last refuge and you say you have nothing to do with me! To whom shall I turn now? What am I to do? To whom am I to go?"

Bhagavan watched him for some time and said, "Am I your guru that I should be responsible for your salvation? Have I ever said that I am your master?"

"If you are not my master, then who is? And who are you, if not my master? You are my guru, you are my guardian angel, you will pity me and release me from my sins!" He started sobbing and crying again.

We all sat silent, overcome with pity. Only Bhagavan looked alert and matter-of-fact.

Bh: "If I am your guru, what are my fees? Surely you should pay me for my services."

D: "But you won't take anything," cried the visitor. "What can I give you?"

Bh: "Did I ever say that I don't take anything? And did you ever ask me what you can give me?"

D: "If you would take, then ask me. There is nothing I would not give you."

Bh: "All right. Now I am asking. Give me. What will you give me?"

D: "Take anything, all is yours."

Bh: "Then give me all the good you have done in this world."

D: "What good could I have done? I have not a single virtue to my credit"

Bh: "You have promised to give. Now give. Don't talk of your credit. Just give away all the good you have done in your past."

D: "Yes, I shall give. But how does one give? Tell me how the giving is done and I shall give."

Bh: "Say like this: 'All the good I have done in the past I am giving away entirely to my guru. Henceforth I have no merit from it nor have I any concern with it.' Say it with your whole heart."

D: "All right, Swami, I am giving away to you all the good I have done so far, if I have done any, and all its good effects. I am giving it to you gladly, for you are my master and you are asking me to give it all away to you."

Bh: "But this is not enough," said Bhagavan sternly.

D: "I gave you all I have and all you asked me to give. I have nothing more to give."

Bh: "No, you have. Give me all your sins."

D: The man looked wildly at Bhagavan, terror stricken. "You do not know, Swami, what you are asking for. If you knew, you would not ask me. If you take over my sins, your body will rot and burn. You do not know me, you do not know my sins. Please do not ask me for my sins." And he wept bitterly.

Bh: "I shall look after myself, don't you worry about me," said Bhagavan. "All I want from you is your sins."

For a long time the bargain would not go through. The man refused to part with his sins. But Bhagavan was adamant.

Bh: "Either give me your sins along with your merits, or keep both and don't think of me as your master."

In the end the visitor's scruples broke down and he declared: "Whatever sins I have done, they are no longer mine. All of them and their results, too, belong to Ramana."

Bhagavan seemed to be satisfied. "From now on there is no good nor bad in you. You are just pure. Go and do nothing, neither good nor bad. Remain yourself, remain what you are."

A great peace fell over the man and over us all. No one knows what happened to the fortunate visitor; he was never seen in the Ashram again. He might have been in no further need of coming.

Another time, a visitor started wailing before Bhagavan that he was being quite crushed under the enormity of his sins.

Bhagavan asked: "When you sleep, are you a sinner?"

D: "No, I am just asleep."

Bh: "If you are not a sinner, then you must be good."

D: "No, I am neither good nor bad when I am asleep. I know nothing about myself."

Bh: "And what do you know about yourself now? You say you are a sinner. You say so because you think so. Were you pleased with yourself, you would call yourself a good man and stop telling me about your being a sinner. What do you know about good and evil except what is in your mind? When you see that the mind invents everything, all will vanish. The good will vanish, the evil will vanish, and you will remain as you are."

Once a visitor said: "I have been coming to you, Swami, many times, hoping that something will happen and I shall be changed. So far I do not see any change in me. I am as I was, a weakling of a man, an inveterate sinner." And he started weeping piteously.

"On this road there are no milestones," replied Bhagavan. "How can you know in which direction you are going? Why don't you do what the first-class railway passenger does? He tells the guard his destination, locks the doors and goes to sleep. The rest is done by the guard. If you could trust your guru as much as you trust the railway guard, it would be quite enough to make you reach your destination. Your business is to shut the door and windows and sleep. The guard will wake you up at your destination."

Dr. Syed was a Muslim scholar and a great devotee of Bhagavan. His wife too became a devotee without losing her faith in the ways and conventions of the Muslim religion. She would not appear before other men. Stealthily she would come to the Ashram, hide herself in one of the rooms and implore her husband to ask Bhagavan to come to see her. It was a most unusual request, but such was Bhagavan's grace and compassion that even this was granted. Mrs. Syed would at first keep silent, rather than talk to Bhagavan through her veil; then later she would talk to him without a veil. But it took a long time for her to venture into the Hall without a veil and sit there like everybody else.

Dr. Syed and his wife used to stay in a rented house outside the Ashram and cook their own food. One day she felt a very strong desire to invite Bhagavan to their house for food. She nagged her husband, but he did not have the courage to request something so unusual. Meeting his wife outside the Hall was unusual enough, and twice he had asked Bhagavan to consent to it; that Bhagavan should go to their house for food seemed unthinkable. But the intrepid lady went on pressing her husband until he became more afraid of her than of the enormity of her request and hinted her wish to Bhagavan, who smiled and kept quiet. She would not give up. She was certain that Bhagavan would grant her wish if the matter were put before him in the proper spirit and form. At last, while Bhagavan was going up the hill, Dr. Syed and his wife stood before him and told him her desire. Bhagavan just laughed and went up the hill.

When they returned home in the evening, there was quite a row in their house, she accusing him that he had not asked Bhagavan in the proper way. At last he had enough of it all and said to her: "How am I responsible? The truth of the matter is that your devotion is deficient. That is the reason why Bhagavan refused." These words of his must have touched her deeply and she sat in meditation throughout the night. She wanted by sheer intensity of prayer to bring Bhagavan to dinner. During the early hours of the morning she must have dozed. Bhagavan appeared to her in a dream or vision and told her: "Why are you so obstinate? How can I leave the Ashram and come to your house for food? I must dine along with others, or they won't eat. Besides, as you know, people are coming from distant places, facing a lot of trouble to see me and to have food with me. How can I leave all these guests and come to your place? Feed three devotees of mine and it will be the same as feeding me. I shall be fully satisfied." In her vision she saw the three devotees whom she had to invite. One was Dr. Melkote, the second Swami Prabuddhananda and the third was myself.

She told of her vision to Dr. Syed, who invited all the three for food in his house, telling us that we could not possibly refuse. We were astonished and asked him the reason. Dr. Syed told us the whole story. We were all Brahmins and, although we were delighted to represent Bhagavan at the feast, we were afraid of what the Ashram Brahmins would say. For a Brahmin to eat in a Muslim's house is a serious breach of convention.

Dr. Melkote was in the guest room near the flower garden. I went to him and asked him, "What are you thinking about?"

"I am thinking of the dinner at Syed's place."

"Are you going?"

"I wonder. They are Muslims."

''If we go, we are bound to get into a lot of trouble."

"Yes, they may turn us out of the Ashram."

"Then are you going?"

"I am going," said Dr. Melkote. "I am taking it as Bhagavan's direct order. Otherwise, how could Mrs. Syed pick us? How could she know our names and faces so as to show us to her husband?"

"Prabuddhananda can go, for he is a sannyasi and can eat anywhere. Besides, he is not afraid of the Ashram authorities, for he cooks his own food. But we are taking serious risks," I said.

"Well," said Dr. Melkote, "we are going, and Bhagavan will attend to the risks."

In spite of these brave words Dr. Melkote was perplexed. We were to dine in a Muslim's house. Even if the food were vegetarian, what about the kitchen and vessels? What do Muslims know about the Brahmin rules and habits concerning cleanliness? How would we explain our going to a Muslim house for food? Why should we trust the vision of some Muslim lady? Could we really say that we were merely obeying Bhagavan's orders? Who would believe us? Surely not the Ashram Brahmins! And what an assortment we three made! One was a Kanarese householder, the other an Andhra bachelor, the third a Bengali sannyasi!

The next day when the bell for dinner was rung, we three went before Bhagavan and bowed. Bhagavan did not ask us the reason, he merely looked at us. Instead of going to the dining hall with others we marched out of the Ashram, passing before Chinnaswami who-O wonder!-did not ask us why we were going out without taking food.

Mrs. Syed got up early in the morning, swept the kitchen and washed the vessels carefully herself. She would not allow the servant girl to enter the kitchen. She had been scolded repeatedly by her relatives and the Muslim Moulvis for her devotion to a Hindu saint. She told them that while she used to say her prayers she would see the Prophet standing by her side. Since she met Bhagavan, the Prophet had disappeared and Bhagavan was coming to watch her pray. So great was her devotion!

After getting everything quite clean, she lovingly prepared dish after dish, and when we arrived, we found the food excellent. After the meal she offered us betel with her own hands.

When we were returning to the Ashram, Dr. Melkote had tears in his eyes. He said: "I come from Hyderabad and I know well the Muslim ways and customs. A Muslim lady will give betel leaves with her own hands to nobody except her husband or a fakir (a saint). In her eyes we were fakirs, the forms Bhagavan took to go to her place."

When we returned to the Ashram we were astonished that nobody enquired why we had not been present in the dining hall, where we had gone or what we did in a Muslim's house. How wonderfully does Bhagavan protect those who obey him!

- From Ramana Smrti Souvenir

Express yourself instantly with MSN Messenger! MSN Messenger Download today it's FREE!