Mouni Sadhu In days of great peace part three

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The Maharshi

 

 

MAR/APR 2001 VOL.11, NO. 2

 

 

 

IN DAYS OF GREAT PEACE

 

 

by Mouni Sadhu

 

Part Three

 

 

 

I began to listen intently to the silence surrounding the Master. I understood what a high degree of concentration, of the control of the movement of thoughts, is necessary to be able to open the door of the mind to the subtle vibrations constantly radiated by Maharshi, which led one to high initiation.

I also came to understand that my previous exercises were not of the best, that here they would prove insufficient.

At first it was rather depressing to see that my former methods had to be re-examined and changed. I realized that the amount of knowledge I could find and assimilate here depended upon my own attitude and that I myself was responsible for catching and using to the full this unique opportunity of being at Maharshi’s feet, an opportunity which would never again be repeated.

In other words, the amount of light penetrating my being would depend directly upon the opening of the doors of my consciousness.

There were many other doubts and hesitations, but I do not think it useful to repeat here all such misconceived ideas.

The answers to my doubts came quite unexpectedly and simply, as did everything in this strange abode.

I had read much about Maharshi before coming to the Ashram. I knew that he sees the content of the inner being of every man who approaches him, although he never shows that he does so or speaks about it. So this case was not surprising to me.

But I had also personally to experience this extraordinary power of the Master.

It was essential, for without a complete trust in the Master, without a belief that his consciousness is one with the Absolute, as well as one with that of his pupil, the realization of Self-knowledge is impossible.

As week after week is spent near him, the shell of the separated personality bursts and dissolves. I always feel this process when I am with him....

 

The Darshan Resumed

 

It is the morning meditation. The temple hall is full. I see many new faces, not only Indian but from other lands as well....

One thing is clear: we take farewell of the Maharshi, each one according to his own capacity. The form of it does not matter. We are all united at the feet of the Master in adoration and in Silence.

Yogi Ramiah, immovable in contemplation with a face as if cut from granite, is sitting at his Master’s feet surrounded by Brahmins of the Ashram staff.

An elderly lady just opposite me is gazing intently

at Maharshi with an expression of boundless devotion, but also of despair and a kind of inner revolt, as if she is unable to accept the certainty that soon she will no longer see him in his earthly form.

And Maharshi?

After this new operation, he is thinner than ever; the features seem to be transparent, the color of his face more fair, as if there were nothing earthly about him. A statue, an abstraction incarnate, if this expression can convey any meaning.

No, it is the spirit, which, from the sphere of matter, returns to its own realm, and is only in a very loose and subtle way in touch with what we see as

the physical body of the Saint.

His peace is permeating everything all round us. There are no more unsolved problems, no unfulfilled desires, no movements in my consciousness. It is now clear that there is no need of thinking as it seemed before — for thinking is an unnecessary, purposeless thing.

 

What is it that concerns me now? What is happening to me? Where is that man who had a name, and many thoughts? All this now seems so far from ‘Me’. Oh, if I could only hold this state at any cost, and not return to the world of shadows and illusions! If I could only remain in this silence wherein there is no ‘I’ and ‘you’, no time, no space!

The light is now pouring out in such abundance that everything is inundated by it. The open eyes see nothing but light. I know that this form, now so foreign to me, seems not to breathe any more. Would its breath disturb the peace of eternity? I do not know.

In this light, boundaries of the ‘past’ and the ‘future’ are vanishing. Both are now like open plains. No, it is not true, for the momentary awe before the opening of the great gate now gives way to the happiness of awareness that time does not exist any more.

Like a lightning flash come to my memory, the words of the Revelation of St. John: “ . . . that there should be time no longer”.

 

Yes, I now realize that true life is independent of time, and that if we are still living in time it is not real life. Resurrection, that unfathomable mystery, becomes a realized truth here in this invisible life.

 

to be continued