Healing Through Faith and Love

July 26, 2005

This was put together by me. Hope it is enjoyed.

===================================================

Healing Through Faith and Love - A Case Study of Sri Ramakrishna

===================================================

It is a little known fact that actors in Bengali theatre, prior

to entering the stage, bow down before the image of an unshaved,

rustic-looking, middle-aged man, who is now unofficially the

patron deity of all dramatic performance in the region. It

becomes all the more intriguing when we realize that the

gentleman in question was an unlettered individual who was never

formally related to theatre and saw only a few plays during his

own lifetime.

Illustration:

http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/ramakrishna.jpg

The story of how this came to be about begins on February 28,

1844, with the birth of a boy named Girish at Calcutta. Girish

lost his mother when he was eleven and his father at fourteen.

>From his boyhood, he was a voracious reader but left school

>since

he found the formal atmosphere detrimental to the process of

learning. Without the restraining hand of a loving guardian,

Girish's life drifted into drunkenness, debauchery, waywardness

and obstinacy. He had to earn his living through a succession of

office jobs, which he found thoroughly boring. His spare time was

devoted to the theatre, both as playwright and performer. He was,

in fact, a bohemian artist. An early marriage proved unable to

stabilize his lifestyle and his wife passed away when he was

thirty. Thus did he lose his mother in childhood, father in

boyhood and wife in early manhood.

For the next fifteen years he worked in various capacities in

different offices. He continued to indulge his appetites but also

remained devoted to writing and acting. In his late thirties, he

had already begun to be recognized as the father of modern

Bengali drama. He was single-handedly revitalizing the revival of

theatre by producing a vast body of dramatic work in the Bengali

language, and at the same time was molding the first generation

of actors and actresses by leading from the front; in fact, such

was his versatility that he often played two or three roles in

the same play. In 1883, the Star Theatre was opened in Calcutta

with his money; this later developed into an active center for

the evolution of Bengali drama.

In Girish's case, talent and licentiousness gradually achieved a

state of peaceful co-existence. He himself sized up his

personality as follows: 'from my early boyhood I was molded in a

different way. I never learned to walk a straight path. I always

preferred a crooked way. From childhood it had been my nature to

do the very thing I was forbidden to do.'

Illustration: http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/girish.jpg

Skepticism

The course of Girish's tumultuous life continued till he read one

day about a holy personality who was living in the famous shrine

of Goddess Kali (Dakshineshwar) near Calcutta.

Illustration:

http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/dakshineswar.jpg

A skeptical Girish, without ever having met the sage, concluded

that he was probably a fake. However, soon after he heard that

the guru would be visiting his neighborhood and decided to see

him firsthand. It was nearing sunset when Girish reached the

place, and lamps were being brought into the room. Yet the

ascetic kept asking, "Is it evening?" This confirmed Girish's

earlier opinion, 'what pretentious play-acting, it is dusk,

lights are burning in front of him, yet he cannot tell whether it

is evening or not' thus murmuring under his breath and not

recognizing the saint's super conscious stage, he left the

premises. Thus was the first impression of Girish Chandra Ghosh,

the father of modern Bengali theatre, regarding Sri Ramakrishna,

the beloved saint and priest of one of India's most renowned Kali

temples.

Illustration: http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/paramhansa.jpg

Some years later, Girish saw the holy man again, at the house of

a common acquaintance. In his own words: 'after reaching there, I

found that the sage had already arrived and a dancing girl was

seated by his side and singing devotional hymns. Quite a large

gathering had assembled in the room. Suddenly my eyes were opened

to a new vision by the holy man's conduct. I used to think that

those who consider themselves param-yogis or gurus do not speak

with anybody. They do not salute anybody. If strongly urged they

allow others to serve them. But his behavior was quite different.

With the utmost humility he was showing respect to everybody by

bowing his head on the ground. An old friend of mine, pointing at

him, said sarcastically: "The dancing girl seems to have a

previous intimacy with him. That's why he is laughing and joking

with her." But I did not like these insinuations. Just then,

another of my friends said, "I have had enough of this, let's

go."' Girish went with him. He had half wanted to stay, but was

too embarrassed to admit this, even to himself.

Lessons in Humility

Only a few days after this, on September 21, 1884, the saint and

some of his devotees visited the Star Theatre, to see a play

based on the life of the great Vaishnava devotee Shri Chaitanya,

authored and directed by Girish. The latter reminisced: 'I was

strolling in the outer compound of the theatre one day when a

disciple of Sri Ramakrishna came up to me and said: "The guru has

come to see the play. If you will allow him a free pass, well and

good. Otherwise we will buy a ticket for him." I replied: "He

will not have to purchase the ticket. But others will have to."

Saying this, I proceeded to greet him. I found him alighting from

the carriage and entering the compound of the theatre. I wanted

to salute him, but before I could do so he saluted me. I returned

his greeting. He saluted me again. I bowed my head and he did the

same to me. I thought this might continue forever, so I let him

perform the last salute (which I answered mentally) and led him

upstairs to his seat in the box.'

This was Girish's third meeting with Ramakrishna; but his

intellect continued to refuse to accept another human being as a

guru. This is how he reasoned: 'after all, the guru is a man. The

disciple also is a man. Why should one man stand before another

with folded palms and follow him like a slave? But time after

time in the presence of Sri Ramakrishna my pride crumbled into

dust. Meeting me at the theatre, he had first saluted me. How

could my pride remain in the presence of such a humble man? The

memory of his humility created an indelible impression on my

mind.'

Three days later, Girish was sitting on the porch of a friend's

house when he saw Ramakrishna approaching along the street: 'No

sooner had I turned my eyes towards him than he saluted me. I

returned it. He continued on his way. For no accountable reason

my heart felt drawn towards him by an invisible string. I felt a

strong urge to follow him. Just then, a person brought to me a

message from him and said: "Sri Ramakrishna is calling you." I

went. He was seated with a number of devotees around him. As soon

as I sat down I asked the following question:

"What is a guru?"

"A guru is like the matchmaker who arranges for the union of the

bride with his bridegroom. Likewise a guru prepares for the

meeting of the individual soul with his beloved, the Divine

Spirit." Actually, Sri Ramakrishna did not use the word

matchmaker, but a slang expression, which left a more forceful

impression. Then he said: "You need not worry, your guru has

already been chosen."

Girish, however, was a complex personality: a mixture of shyness,

aggression, humility and arrogance. Although in one corner of his

heart he did believe that Ramakrishna was the guru who he had

hoped for, another part of his old self revolted against the

idea. On December 14th of the same year, the playwright was in

his dressing room when a devotee came up to inform him of

Ramakrishna's arrival. "All right," Girish said rather haughtily,

"take him to the box and give him a seat."

"But won't you come and receive him personally?" The devotee

asked.

"What does he need me for? " said the annoyed Girish.

Nevertheless, he followed the disciple downstairs. At the sight

of Ramakrishna's peaceful countenance Girish's mood changed. He

not only escorted the saint upstairs but also bowed down before

him and touched his feet. Later Girish said: 'seeing his serene

and radiant face, my stony heart melted. I rebuked myself in

shame, and that guilt still haunts my memory. To think that I had

refused to greet this sweet and gentle soul! Then I conducted him

upstairs. There I saluted him touching his feet. Even now I do

not understand the reason, but at that moment a radical change

came over me and I was a different man.'

The Transforming Power of Faith

'Soon he started conversing with me. He spoke of several things

while I listened longingly. I felt a spiritual current passing,

as it were, through my body from foot to head and head to foot.

All of a sudden Sri Ramakrishna lost outer consciousness and went

into ecstasy, and in that mood he started talking with a young

devotee. Many years earlier I had heard some slandering remarks

against him, made by a very wicked man. I remembered those words,

and at that moment his ecstasy broke and his mood changed.

Pointing towards me, he said, "There is some crookedness in your

heart." I thought, 'Yes indeed. Plenty of it - of various kinds."

But I was at loss to understand which kind he was particularly

referring to. I asked, "How shall I get rid of it?Have faith,"

Shri Ramakrishna replied.

Illustration: http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/samadhi.jpg

On another occasion when Ramakrishna offered Girish a spiritual

discourse, the latter stopped him short saying: "I won't listen

to any advice. I have written cartloads of it myself. It doesn't

help. Do something that will transform my life." Girish had a

writer's skepticism about the authority of the written word.

Ramakrishna was highly pleased to hear his view and asked a

disciple to sing a particular song whose words went like this:

"Go into solitude and shut yourself in a cave. Peace is not

there. Peace is where faith is, for faith is the root of all." At

that moment Girish felt himself cleansed of all impurities and

doubts: 'my arrogant head bowed low at his feet. In him I had

found my sanctuary and all my fear was gone.'

Girish's faith however required constant strengthening; years of

suffering and torment had damaged it severely. In a later meeting

he again directed the question to Ramakrishna:

"Will the crookedness of my heart go?"

"Yes it will go."

Girish repeated the question and received the same reply. The

process was replayed twice until one of the other disciples

reprimanded Girish: "Enough. He has already answered you. Why do

you bother him again?" The theatre veteran turned towards the

devotee to rebuke him since no one who dared criticize him ever

escaped the lash of his tongue. But he controlled himself

thinking: 'my friend is right. He who does not believe when told

once will not believe even if he is told a hundred times.'

Venerating with Poison

One night, while Girish was in a brothel with two of his friends,

he felt a sudden desire to see Ramakrishna. Despite the lateness

of the hour he and his friends hired a carriage to Dakshineshwar.

They were very drunk and everyone was asleep. But when the three

tipsily staggered into Ramakrishna's room, he received them

joyfully. Going into ecstasy, he grasped both of Girish's hands

and began to sing and dance with him. The dramatist thus

described his feelings: 'here is a man whose love embraces all -

even a wicked man like me, whose own family would condemn me in

this state. Surely, this holy man, respected by the righteous, is

also the savior of the fallen.'

Girish, however, was not always so pleasant when drunk. Once at

the theatre he publicly abused Ramakrishna, using the coarsest

and most brutal words. All those present were shocked and advised

the sage to sever all links with the playwright.

It is interesting to read what Girish himself says about this

incident:

'Although I had come to regard Sri Ramakrishna as my very own,

the scars of past impressions were not so easily healed. One day,

under the influence of liquor, I began to abuse him in most

unutterable language. The devotees of the master grew furious and

were about to punish me, but he restrained them. Abuse continued

to flow from my lips in a torrent. Sri Ramakrishna kept quiet and

silently returned to Dakshineshwar. There was no remorse in my

heart. As a spoiled child may carelessly berate his father, so

did I abuse him without any fear of punishment. Soon my behavior

became common gossip, and I began to realize my mistake. But at

the same time I had so much faith in his love, which I felt to be

infinite, that I did not for a moment fear that Sri Ramakrishna

could ever desert me.'

A common friend reminded Ramakrishna of the story of the serpent

Kaliya, who, while battling Krishna, spewed enormous quantities

of venom and said: "Lord you have given me only poison, where

shall I get the nectar to worship you?" Similarly, Girish too had

worshipped Ramakrishna with abuse, which was in accordance with

his nature.

Illustration: http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/pe61.jpg

Ramakrishna smiled and immediately asked for a carriage to go to

Girish's house, where he found the latter repentant. Seeing the

guru, Girish was overwhelmed. He said, "Master if you had not

come today, I would have concluded that you had not attained that

supreme state of knowledge where praise and blame are equal, and

that you could not be called a truly illumined soul." On another

occasion Ramakrishna had told Girish: "You utter many abusive and

vulgar words; but that doesn't matter. It's better for these

things to come out. There are some people who fall ill on account

of blood poisoning; the more the poisoned blood finds an outlet,

the better it is for them. You too will be purer by the day. In

fact, people will marvel at you."

Binding Through Freedom

One night, Girish drank himself into unconsciousness at the house

of a prostitute. In the morning, he hastened to visit

Ramakrishna. He was full of remorse but had not neglected to

bring a bottle of wine with him in the carriage. On arriving at

Dakshineshwar, he wept repentantly and embraced Ramakrishna's

feet. Then, suddenly, he felt in urgent need of drink, and

discovered, to his dismay, that the carriage had already driven

off. But presently a smiling Ramakrishna produced not only the

bottle, but Girish's shoes and scarf as well; he had privately

asked a devotee to bring them from the carriage before it left.

Girish could not control himself; he drank shamelessly before

them all - and, having done so, was again remorseful. "Drink to

your heart's content" Ramakrishna told him, "It won't be for much

longer." Girish said later that this was the beginning his

abstention from intoxicating drinks. But the abstention was

gradual; and this was certainly not the last time that Girish was

drunk in his guru's presence. Sri Ramakrishna never forbade

Girish to drink because he knew that it takes time to change

deep-rooted habits. Yet the silent influence of the guru's love

worked wonders. In the playwright's own words: 'from my early

childhood it had been my nature to do the very thing that I was

forbidden to do. But Sri Ramakrishna was a unique teacher. Never

for a moment did he restrict me, and that worked a miracle in my

life. He literally accepted my sins and left my soul free. If any

of his devotees would speak of sin and sinfulness, he would

rebuke him saying, "Stop that. Why talk of sin? He who repeatedly

says, 'I am a worm, I am a worm,' becomes a worm. He, who thinks,

'I am free,' becomes free. Always have that positive attitude

that you are free, and no sin will cling to you."'

The Power of Attorney

One day Girish finally surrendered himself at the feet of

Ramakrishna and asked him for instruction. "Do just what you are

doing now," said the guru. "Hold on to god with one hand and to

the material world with the other. Think of god once in the

morning and once in the evening, no matter how much work you have

pending." Girish agreed that this sounded simple enough. But he

then reflected on his disorganized life, so much on the mercy of

impulses and emergencies and realized that he did not even have

fixed hours for eating and sleeping; how then could he promise to

remember god? Making a false commitment was out of the question.

Ramakrishna, as if reading his mind said: "Very well, then

remember god just before you eat or sleep. No matter what time of

the day it is." Girish however, couldn't even make this simple

promise, the fact being that any kind of self-discipline was

repugnant to him. "In that case," said Ramakrishna, "give me your

power of attorney. From this moment on, I'll take full

responsibility for you. You won't have to do anything at all."

Girish was overjoyed. This is what he had been wanting all the

time; to be rid of responsibility and guilt forever. He readily

agreed to the suggestion and thought to himself, 'now will I be

as free as air.' He was however mistaken - as he soon found out.

By consenting, he had turned himself into Ramakrishna's slave.

Whenever Girish indulged himself, he was forced to think of the

tremendous moral burden he would be placing on his guru. In fact,

he found it hard to not constantly think of Sri Ramakrishna

before performing any action.

The Garlic Container

One day he went to a brothel intending to spend the night there.

At midnight however, he experienced an unbearable burning

sensation all over his body and had to immediately leave the

place to return home. Girish was reminded of the time when

Ramakrishna had compared him to a cup of garlic paste. Though

such a container may be washed an umpteen number of times, it is

not possible to get rid of the smell altogether. "Will my smell

go?" Girish had enquired. "Yes it will. All offensive odor

vanishes when the vessel is heated in a blazing fire." Was this

the same heat that was tormenting him now? So wondered the

playwright.

In later years he would tell young devotees that the way of

complete self-surrender was actually much harder than the way of

self-reliance and effort: "Look at me, I'm not even free to

breathe, Sri Ramakrishna has taken full possession of my heart

and bound it with his love."

The Guru as Mother (In Girish's Own Words)

'One day, when I arrived at Dakshineshwar, Sri Ramakrishna was

just finishing his noonday meal. He offered me his dessert, but

as I was about to eat it, he said: "Wait. Let me feed you

myself." Then he put the pudding into my mouth with his own

fingers, and I ate as hungrily and unself-consciously as a small

baby. I forgot that I was an adult. I felt like a child whose

mother was feeding him. But now when I remember how these lips of

mine had touched many impure lips, and how my guru had fed me,

touching them with his holy hand, I am overwhelmed with emotion

and say to myself: "Did this actually happen? Or was it only a

dream?" I heard from a fellow devotee that Sri Ramakrishna saw me

as a little baby in a divine vision. And from then, whenever I

was with him, I would actually feel like a child.'

Here it is also relevant to observe that though Girish had the

company of his mother till the age of eleven, he only had a

limited interaction with her. This restriction was due to an

innate fear on the part of the parent that if she came near her

children she would lose them; blaming herself for the many such

bereavements she had already suffered before Girish.

The Vision of Bhairava

Long before he had met the dramatist, Sri Ramakrishna had a

vision, which he described as follows: 'One day, when I was

meditating in the Kali temple, I saw a naked boy skipping into

the temple. He had a tuft of hair on the crown of his head, and

was carrying a flask of wine under his left arm and a vessel of

nectar in his right. "Who are you?" I asked. "I am Bhairava," he

replied. On my asking the reason for his coming, he answered, "To

do your work." Years later when Girish came to me I recognized

that Bhairava in him.'

In fact, Ramakrishna had often chided his disciples who derided

Girish's enchantment with the bottle, saying, "What harm can

alcohol possibly cause to someone who embodies Bhairava himself?

None other than our beloved Mother Kali can ever judge or

restrain him. We, who are her mere servants, may not even dare to

do so. Girish is not a hypocrite, he is the same, inside and

outside." The analogy with Bhairava is both apt and instructive.

Bhairava was generated from the wrath of Shiva, when the latter

was forced to listen to the vain boastings of another deity

(Brahma). Having such provocative origins, holding within himself

a simmering potential, Bhairava is thus visualized in Indian

thought as an ambivalent, excitable and dangerous character,

reflecting the emotions aroused at his birth, and even today is

worshipped with offerings of alcohol in many shrines across

India.

Illustration: http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/he11.jpg

The bonding through sharing of food was further strengthened when

one day Girish went to the house of a friend, who too was a

devotee of Ramakrishna. He found the host cleaning rice. Now, the

latter was a rich landlord with many servants, but nevertheless

he was performing this unaccustomed job himself. Girish was

amazed and enquired of the reason. The householder replied: " The

master is coming today, and he will have his lunch here. So I am

cleaning the rice myself."

Girish was touched by this extraordinary devotion. He reflected

on his own ability to be of such service to Ramakrishna. He

returned home and lay on the bed thinking, 'Indeed, god comes to

the home of those who have devotion like my friend. I am a

wretched drunkard. There is no one here who can receive the

master in the proper manner and feed him.' Just then there was a

knock on his door. Startled he jumped up. In front of him stood

the master. "Girish I am hungry, could you give me something to

eat?" There was no food in the house. Asking Sri Ramakrishna to

wait, he rushed to a restaurant nearby and brought home some

fried bread and potato curry. The food, coarse and hard, was much

different from what the frail guru's constitution permitted.

Nevertheless, he relished it with visible joy and delight.

A Unique Solution

As time progressed and age took over Ramakrishna, his health

began to deteriorate. On the advise of doctors he was moved

outside the city where the air was felt to be better.

Illustration:

http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/healthhouse.jpg

An arrangement was made whereby the householder disciples

contributed money for his treatment, food and rent. The younger,

unmarried devotees, who later would establish the Ramakrishna

Mission, managed the household, including the nursing and

shopping. After a while however, some of the householders felt

that the expenditure was getting out of hand and demanded that a

strict accounting system be maintained. The youngsters felt

offended and decided not to accept any more money from them. When

the situation reached a flashpoint, Girish came forward with a

solution. He simply set fire to the account book in front of

everybody. Then he told the householders to each contribute

according to his means and that he would make up the shortfall.

To the unmarried monks he said: "Don't worry. I shall sell my

house if the need arises and spend every bit of the money for the

master." Whatever might have been the fate of Ramakrishna's

physical well being, one thing was certain - Girish's healing was

complete - and he later remarked in humor: 'Had I known that

there was such a huge pit in which to throw one's sins, I would

have committed many more.' It was this transformed soul who began

the practice of paying homage to Sri Ramakrishna before the

commencement of a theatrical performance.

===========================================

This article by Shri Nitin Kumar.

===========================================

Bibliography:

Blurton, T. Richard. Hindu Art: London, 1992.

Chetanananda, Swami. Ramakrishna As We Saw Him: Calcutta, 1999.

Chetanananda, Swami. They Lived with God (Life Stories of Some

Devotees of Sri Ramakrishna): Kolkata, 2002.

Isherwood, Christopher. Ramakrishna and His Disciples: Kolkata,

2001.

M. The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (Tr. into English by Swami

Nikhilananda): Madras, 1996.

M. The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna 2 vols. (Tr. into Hindi by

Suryakant Tripathi Nirala): Nagpur, 2004.

Mishra, Krishanbihari. Ramakrishna Paramhamsa Kalpatru ki Utsav

Lila (Hindi): New Delhi, 2004.

Muller, F. Max. Ramakrishna His Life and Sayings: Kolkata, 2005.

Ramakrishna Sri. Sayings of: Madras, 2004.

Ramakrishna Sri. Tales and Parables of: Chennai, 2004.

Rolland, Romain. The Life of Ramakrishna: Kolkata, 2003.

Saradananda, Swami. Sri Ramakrishna and His Divine Play (Tr. by

Swami Chetanananda): St. Louis, 2003.

---------------------------

The illustrations along with the text can be read at the

HTML version of the article at

http://www.exoticindia.com/article/ramakrishna/

---------------------------

This article was send as a newsletter from the website:

http://www.exoticindia.com

Nitin G.

July 26, 2005

love the pictures! most notably the one of girish! fabulous and

perfect picture, he looks like his description of the creative

intellectual emotional drinker-devotee. wonderful!

, "sanjulag" <sanjulag> wrote:

> This was put together by me. Hope it is enjoyed.

>

> ===================================================

> Healing Through Faith and Love - A Case Study of Sri Ramakrishna

> ===================================================

>

> It is a little known fact that actors in Bengali theatre, prior

> to entering the stage, bow down before the image of an unshaved,

> rustic-looking, middle-aged man, who is now unofficially the

> patron deity of all dramatic performance in the region. It

> becomes all the more intriguing when we realize that the

> gentleman in question was an unlettered individual who was never

> formally related to theatre and saw only a few plays during his

> own lifetime.

>

> Illustration:

> http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/ramakrishna.jpg

>

> The story of how this came to be about begins on February 28,

> 1844, with the birth of a boy named Girish at Calcutta. Girish

> lost his mother when he was eleven and his father at fourteen.

> >From his boyhood, he was a voracious reader but left school

> >since

> he found the formal atmosphere detrimental to the process of

> learning. Without the restraining hand of a loving guardian,

> Girish's life drifted into drunkenness, debauchery, waywardness

> and obstinacy. He had to earn his living through a succession of

> office jobs, which he found thoroughly boring. His spare time was

> devoted to the theatre, both as playwright and performer. He was,

> in fact, a bohemian artist. An early marriage proved unable to

> stabilize his lifestyle and his wife passed away when he was

> thirty. Thus did he lose his mother in childhood, father in

> boyhood and wife in early manhood.

>

> For the next fifteen years he worked in various capacities in

> different offices. He continued to indulge his appetites but also

> remained devoted to writing and acting. In his late thirties, he

> had already begun to be recognized as the father of modern

> Bengali drama. He was single-handedly revitalizing the revival of

> theatre by producing a vast body of dramatic work in the Bengali

> language, and at the same time was molding the first generation

> of actors and actresses by leading from the front; in fact, such

> was his versatility that he often played two or three roles in

> the same play. In 1883, the Star Theatre was opened in Calcutta

> with his money; this later developed into an active center for

> the evolution of Bengali drama.

>

> In Girish's case, talent and licentiousness gradually achieved a

> state of peaceful co-existence. He himself sized up his

> personality as follows: 'from my early boyhood I was molded in a

> different way. I never learned to walk a straight path. I always

> preferred a crooked way. From childhood it had been my nature to

> do the very thing I was forbidden to do.'

>

> Illustration: http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/girish.jpg

>

> Skepticism

>

> The course of Girish's tumultuous life continued till he read one

> day about a holy personality who was living in the famous shrine

> of Goddess Kali (Dakshineshwar) near Calcutta.

>

> Illustration:

> http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/dakshineswar.jpg

>

> A skeptical Girish, without ever having met the sage, concluded

> that he was probably a fake. However, soon after he heard that

> the guru would be visiting his neighborhood and decided to see

> him firsthand. It was nearing sunset when Girish reached the

> place, and lamps were being brought into the room. Yet the

> ascetic kept asking, "Is it evening?" This confirmed Girish's

> earlier opinion, 'what pretentious play-acting, it is dusk,

> lights are burning in front of him, yet he cannot tell whether it

> is evening or not' thus murmuring under his breath and not

> recognizing the saint's super conscious stage, he left the

> premises. Thus was the first impression of Girish Chandra Ghosh,

> the father of modern Bengali theatre, regarding Sri Ramakrishna,

> the beloved saint and priest of one of India's most renowned Kali

> temples.

>

> Illustration: http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/paramhansa.jpg

>

> Some years later, Girish saw the holy man again, at the house of

> a common acquaintance. In his own words: 'after reaching there, I

> found that the sage had already arrived and a dancing girl was

> seated by his side and singing devotional hymns. Quite a large

> gathering had assembled in the room. Suddenly my eyes were opened

> to a new vision by the holy man's conduct. I used to think that

> those who consider themselves param-yogis or gurus do not speak

> with anybody. They do not salute anybody. If strongly urged they

> allow others to serve them. But his behavior was quite different.

> With the utmost humility he was showing respect to everybody by

> bowing his head on the ground. An old friend of mine, pointing at

> him, said sarcastically: "The dancing girl seems to have a

> previous intimacy with him. That's why he is laughing and joking

> with her." But I did not like these insinuations. Just then,

> another of my friends said, "I have had enough of this, let's

> go."' Girish went with him. He had half wanted to stay, but was

> too embarrassed to admit this, even to himself.

>

> Lessons in Humility

>

> Only a few days after this, on September 21, 1884, the saint and

> some of his devotees visited the Star Theatre, to see a play

> based on the life of the great Vaishnava devotee Shri Chaitanya,

> authored and directed by Girish. The latter reminisced: 'I was

> strolling in the outer compound of the theatre one day when a

> disciple of Sri Ramakrishna came up to me and said: "The guru has

> come to see the play. If you will allow him a free pass, well and

> good. Otherwise we will buy a ticket for him." I replied: "He

> will not have to purchase the ticket. But others will have to."

> Saying this, I proceeded to greet him. I found him alighting from

> the carriage and entering the compound of the theatre. I wanted

> to salute him, but before I could do so he saluted me. I returned

> his greeting. He saluted me again. I bowed my head and he did the

> same to me. I thought this might continue forever, so I let him

> perform the last salute (which I answered mentally) and led him

> upstairs to his seat in the box.'

>

> This was Girish's third meeting with Ramakrishna; but his

> intellect continued to refuse to accept another human being as a

> guru. This is how he reasoned: 'after all, the guru is a man. The

> disciple also is a man. Why should one man stand before another

> with folded palms and follow him like a slave? But time after

> time in the presence of Sri Ramakrishna my pride crumbled into

> dust. Meeting me at the theatre, he had first saluted me. How

> could my pride remain in the presence of such a humble man? The

> memory of his humility created an indelible impression on my

> mind.'

>

> Three days later, Girish was sitting on the porch of a friend's

> house when he saw Ramakrishna approaching along the street: 'No

> sooner had I turned my eyes towards him than he saluted me. I

> returned it. He continued on his way. For no accountable reason

> my heart felt drawn towards him by an invisible string. I felt a

> strong urge to follow him. Just then, a person brought to me a

> message from him and said: "Sri Ramakrishna is calling you." I

> went. He was seated with a number of devotees around him. As soon

> as I sat down I asked the following question:

>

> "What is a guru?"

>

> "A guru is like the matchmaker who arranges for the union of the

> bride with his bridegroom. Likewise a guru prepares for the

> meeting of the individual soul with his beloved, the Divine

> Spirit." Actually, Sri Ramakrishna did not use the word

> matchmaker, but a slang expression, which left a more forceful

> impression. Then he said: "You need not worry, your guru has

> already been chosen."

>

> Girish, however, was a complex personality: a mixture of shyness,

> aggression, humility and arrogance. Although in one corner of his

> heart he did believe that Ramakrishna was the guru who he had

> hoped for, another part of his old self revolted against the

> idea. On December 14th of the same year, the playwright was in

> his dressing room when a devotee came up to inform him of

> Ramakrishna's arrival. "All right," Girish said rather haughtily,

> "take him to the box and give him a seat."

>

> "But won't you come and receive him personally?" The devotee

> asked.

>

> "What does he need me for? " said the annoyed Girish.

> Nevertheless, he followed the disciple downstairs. At the sight

> of Ramakrishna's peaceful countenance Girish's mood changed. He

> not only escorted the saint upstairs but also bowed down before

> him and touched his feet. Later Girish said: 'seeing his serene

> and radiant face, my stony heart melted. I rebuked myself in

> shame, and that guilt still haunts my memory. To think that I had

> refused to greet this sweet and gentle soul! Then I conducted him

> upstairs. There I saluted him touching his feet. Even now I do

> not understand the reason, but at that moment a radical change

> came over me and I was a different man.'

>

> The Transforming Power of Faith

>

> 'Soon he started conversing with me. He spoke of several things

> while I listened longingly. I felt a spiritual current passing,

> as it were, through my body from foot to head and head to foot.

> All of a sudden Sri Ramakrishna lost outer consciousness and went

> into ecstasy, and in that mood he started talking with a young

> devotee. Many years earlier I had heard some slandering remarks

> against him, made by a very wicked man. I remembered those words,

> and at that moment his ecstasy broke and his mood changed.

> Pointing towards me, he said, "There is some crookedness in your

> heart." I thought, 'Yes indeed. Plenty of it - of various kinds."

> But I was at loss to understand which kind he was particularly

> referring to. I asked, "How shall I get rid of it?Have faith,"

> Shri Ramakrishna replied.

>

> Illustration: http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/samadhi.jpg

>

> On another occasion when Ramakrishna offered Girish a spiritual

> discourse, the latter stopped him short saying: "I won't listen

> to any advice. I have written cartloads of it myself. It doesn't

> help. Do something that will transform my life." Girish had a

> writer's skepticism about the authority of the written word.

> Ramakrishna was highly pleased to hear his view and asked a

> disciple to sing a particular song whose words went like this:

> "Go into solitude and shut yourself in a cave. Peace is not

> there. Peace is where faith is, for faith is the root of all." At

> that moment Girish felt himself cleansed of all impurities and

> doubts: 'my arrogant head bowed low at his feet. In him I had

> found my sanctuary and all my fear was gone.'

>

> Girish's faith however required constant strengthening; years of

> suffering and torment had damaged it severely. In a later meeting

> he again directed the question to Ramakrishna:

>

> "Will the crookedness of my heart go?"

>

> "Yes it will go."

>

> Girish repeated the question and received the same reply. The

> process was replayed twice until one of the other disciples

> reprimanded Girish: "Enough. He has already answered you. Why do

> you bother him again?" The theatre veteran turned towards the

> devotee to rebuke him since no one who dared criticize him ever

> escaped the lash of his tongue. But he controlled himself

> thinking: 'my friend is right. He who does not believe when told

> once will not believe even if he is told a hundred times.'

>

> Venerating with Poison

>

> One night, while Girish was in a brothel with two of his friends,

> he felt a sudden desire to see Ramakrishna. Despite the lateness

> of the hour he and his friends hired a carriage to Dakshineshwar.

> They were very drunk and everyone was asleep. But when the three

> tipsily staggered into Ramakrishna's room, he received them

> joyfully. Going into ecstasy, he grasped both of Girish's hands

> and began to sing and dance with him. The dramatist thus

> described his feelings: 'here is a man whose love embraces all -

> even a wicked man like me, whose own family would condemn me in

> this state. Surely, this holy man, respected by the righteous, is

> also the savior of the fallen.'

>

> Girish, however, was not always so pleasant when drunk. Once at

> the theatre he publicly abused Ramakrishna, using the coarsest

> and most brutal words. All those present were shocked and advised

> the sage to sever all links with the playwright.

>

> It is interesting to read what Girish himself says about this

> incident:

>

> 'Although I had come to regard Sri Ramakrishna as my very own,

> the scars of past impressions were not so easily healed. One day,

> under the influence of liquor, I began to abuse him in most

> unutterable language. The devotees of the master grew furious and

> were about to punish me, but he restrained them. Abuse continued

> to flow from my lips in a torrent. Sri Ramakrishna kept quiet and

> silently returned to Dakshineshwar. There was no remorse in my

> heart. As a spoiled child may carelessly berate his father, so

> did I abuse him without any fear of punishment. Soon my behavior

> became common gossip, and I began to realize my mistake. But at

> the same time I had so much faith in his love, which I felt to be

> infinite, that I did not for a moment fear that Sri Ramakrishna

> could ever desert me.'

>

> A common friend reminded Ramakrishna of the story of the serpent

> Kaliya, who, while battling Krishna, spewed enormous quantities

> of venom and said: "Lord you have given me only poison, where

> shall I get the nectar to worship you?" Similarly, Girish too had

> worshipped Ramakrishna with abuse, which was in accordance with

> his nature.

>

> Illustration: http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/pe61.jpg

>

> Ramakrishna smiled and immediately asked for a carriage to go to

> Girish's house, where he found the latter repentant. Seeing the

> guru, Girish was overwhelmed. He said, "Master if you had not

> come today, I would have concluded that you had not attained that

> supreme state of knowledge where praise and blame are equal, and

> that you could not be called a truly illumined soul." On another

> occasion Ramakrishna had told Girish: "You utter many abusive and

> vulgar words; but that doesn't matter. It's better for these

> things to come out. There are some people who fall ill on account

> of blood poisoning; the more the poisoned blood finds an outlet,

> the better it is for them. You too will be purer by the day. In

> fact, people will marvel at you."

>

> Binding Through Freedom

>

> One night, Girish drank himself into unconsciousness at the house

> of a prostitute. In the morning, he hastened to visit

> Ramakrishna. He was full of remorse but had not neglected to

> bring a bottle of wine with him in the carriage. On arriving at

> Dakshineshwar, he wept repentantly and embraced Ramakrishna's

> feet. Then, suddenly, he felt in urgent need of drink, and

> discovered, to his dismay, that the carriage had already driven

> off. But presently a smiling Ramakrishna produced not only the

> bottle, but Girish's shoes and scarf as well; he had privately

> asked a devotee to bring them from the carriage before it left.

> Girish could not control himself; he drank shamelessly before

> them all - and, having done so, was again remorseful. "Drink to

> your heart's content" Ramakrishna told him, "It won't be for much

> longer." Girish said later that this was the beginning his

> abstention from intoxicating drinks. But the abstention was

> gradual; and this was certainly not the last time that Girish was

> drunk in his guru's presence. Sri Ramakrishna never forbade

> Girish to drink because he knew that it takes time to change

> deep-rooted habits. Yet the silent influence of the guru's love

> worked wonders. In the playwright's own words: 'from my early

> childhood it had been my nature to do the very thing that I was

> forbidden to do. But Sri Ramakrishna was a unique teacher. Never

> for a moment did he restrict me, and that worked a miracle in my

> life. He literally accepted my sins and left my soul free. If any

> of his devotees would speak of sin and sinfulness, he would

> rebuke him saying, "Stop that. Why talk of sin? He who repeatedly

> says, 'I am a worm, I am a worm,' becomes a worm. He, who thinks,

> 'I am free,' becomes free. Always have that positive attitude

> that you are free, and no sin will cling to you."'

>

> The Power of Attorney

>

> One day Girish finally surrendered himself at the feet of

> Ramakrishna and asked him for instruction. "Do just what you are

> doing now," said the guru. "Hold on to god with one hand and to

> the material world with the other. Think of god once in the

> morning and once in the evening, no matter how much work you have

> pending." Girish agreed that this sounded simple enough. But he

> then reflected on his disorganized life, so much on the mercy of

> impulses and emergencies and realized that he did not even have

> fixed hours for eating and sleeping; how then could he promise to

> remember god? Making a false commitment was out of the question.

>

> Ramakrishna, as if reading his mind said: "Very well, then

> remember god just before you eat or sleep. No matter what time of

> the day it is." Girish however, couldn't even make this simple

> promise, the fact being that any kind of self-discipline was

> repugnant to him. "In that case," said Ramakrishna, "give me your

> power of attorney. From this moment on, I'll take full

> responsibility for you. You won't have to do anything at all."

>

> Girish was overjoyed. This is what he had been wanting all the

> time; to be rid of responsibility and guilt forever. He readily

> agreed to the suggestion and thought to himself, 'now will I be

> as free as air.' He was however mistaken - as he soon found out.

> By consenting, he had turned himself into Ramakrishna's slave.

> Whenever Girish indulged himself, he was forced to think of the

> tremendous moral burden he would be placing on his guru. In fact,

> he found it hard to not constantly think of Sri Ramakrishna

> before performing any action.

>

> The Garlic Container

>

> One day he went to a brothel intending to spend the night there.

> At midnight however, he experienced an unbearable burning

> sensation all over his body and had to immediately leave the

> place to return home. Girish was reminded of the time when

> Ramakrishna had compared him to a cup of garlic paste. Though

> such a container may be washed an umpteen number of times, it is

> not possible to get rid of the smell altogether. "Will my smell

> go?" Girish had enquired. "Yes it will. All offensive odor

> vanishes when the vessel is heated in a blazing fire." Was this

> the same heat that was tormenting him now? So wondered the

> playwright.

>

> In later years he would tell young devotees that the way of

> complete self-surrender was actually much harder than the way of

> self-reliance and effort: "Look at me, I'm not even free to

> breathe, Sri Ramakrishna has taken full possession of my heart

> and bound it with his love."

>

> The Guru as Mother (In Girish's Own Words)

>

> 'One day, when I arrived at Dakshineshwar, Sri Ramakrishna was

> just finishing his noonday meal. He offered me his dessert, but

> as I was about to eat it, he said: "Wait. Let me feed you

> myself." Then he put the pudding into my mouth with his own

> fingers, and I ate as hungrily and unself-consciously as a small

> baby. I forgot that I was an adult. I felt like a child whose

> mother was feeding him. But now when I remember how these lips of

> mine had touched many impure lips, and how my guru had fed me,

> touching them with his holy hand, I am overwhelmed with emotion

> and say to myself: "Did this actually happen? Or was it only a

> dream?" I heard from a fellow devotee that Sri Ramakrishna saw me

> as a little baby in a divine vision. And from then, whenever I

> was with him, I would actually feel like a child.'

>

> Here it is also relevant to observe that though Girish had the

> company of his mother till the age of eleven, he only had a

> limited interaction with her. This restriction was due to an

> innate fear on the part of the parent that if she came near her

> children she would lose them; blaming herself for the many such

> bereavements she had already suffered before Girish.

>

> The Vision of Bhairava

>

> Long before he had met the dramatist, Sri Ramakrishna had a

> vision, which he described as follows: 'One day, when I was

> meditating in the Kali temple, I saw a naked boy skipping into

> the temple. He had a tuft of hair on the crown of his head, and

> was carrying a flask of wine under his left arm and a vessel of

> nectar in his right. "Who are you?" I asked. "I am Bhairava," he

> replied. On my asking the reason for his coming, he answered, "To

> do your work." Years later when Girish came to me I recognized

> that Bhairava in him.'

>

> In fact, Ramakrishna had often chided his disciples who derided

> Girish's enchantment with the bottle, saying, "What harm can

> alcohol possibly cause to someone who embodies Bhairava himself?

> None other than our beloved Mother Kali can ever judge or

> restrain him. We, who are her mere servants, may not even dare to

> do so. Girish is not a hypocrite, he is the same, inside and

> outside." The analogy with Bhairava is both apt and instructive.

> Bhairava was generated from the wrath of Shiva, when the latter

> was forced to listen to the vain boastings of another deity

> (Brahma). Having such provocative origins, holding within himself

> a simmering potential, Bhairava is thus visualized in Indian

> thought as an ambivalent, excitable and dangerous character,

> reflecting the emotions aroused at his birth, and even today is

> worshipped with offerings of alcohol in many shrines across

> India.

>

> Illustration: http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/he11.jpg

>

> The bonding through sharing of food was further strengthened when

> one day Girish went to the house of a friend, who too was a

> devotee of Ramakrishna. He found the host cleaning rice. Now, the

> latter was a rich landlord with many servants, but nevertheless

> he was performing this unaccustomed job himself. Girish was

> amazed and enquired of the reason. The householder replied: " The

> master is coming today, and he will have his lunch here. So I am

> cleaning the rice myself."

>

> Girish was touched by this extraordinary devotion. He reflected

> on his own ability to be of such service to Ramakrishna. He

> returned home and lay on the bed thinking, 'Indeed, god comes to

> the home of those who have devotion like my friend. I am a

> wretched drunkard. There is no one here who can receive the

> master in the proper manner and feed him.' Just then there was a

> knock on his door. Startled he jumped up. In front of him stood

> the master. "Girish I am hungry, could you give me something to

> eat?" There was no food in the house. Asking Sri Ramakrishna to

> wait, he rushed to a restaurant nearby and brought home some

> fried bread and potato curry. The food, coarse and hard, was much

> different from what the frail guru's constitution permitted.

> Nevertheless, he relished it with visible joy and delight.

>

> A Unique Solution

>

> As time progressed and age took over Ramakrishna, his health

> began to deteriorate. On the advise of doctors he was moved

> outside the city where the air was felt to be better.

>

> Illustration:

> http://www.exoticindia.com/artimages/healthhouse.jpg

>

> An arrangement was made whereby the householder disciples

> contributed money for his treatment, food and rent. The younger,

> unmarried devotees, who later would establish the Ramakrishna

> Mission, managed the household, including the nursing and

> shopping. After a while however, some of the householders felt

> that the expenditure was getting out of hand and demanded that a

> strict accounting system be maintained. The youngsters felt

> offended and decided not to accept any more money from them. When

> the situation reached a flashpoint, Girish came forward with a

> solution. He simply set fire to the account book in front of

> everybody. Then he told the householders to each contribute

> according to his means and that he would make up the shortfall.

> To the unmarried monks he said: "Don't worry. I shall sell my

> house if the need arises and spend every bit of the money for the

> master." Whatever might have been the fate of Ramakrishna's

> physical well being, one thing was certain - Girish's healing was

> complete - and he later remarked in humor: 'Had I known that

> there was such a huge pit in which to throw one's sins, I would

> have committed many more.' It was this transformed soul who began

> the practice of paying homage to Sri Ramakrishna before the

> commencement of a theatrical performance.

>

> ===========================================

> This article by Shri Nitin Kumar.

> ===========================================

>

> Bibliography:

>

> Blurton, T. Richard. Hindu Art: London, 1992.

>

> Chetanananda, Swami. Ramakrishna As We Saw Him: Calcutta, 1999.

>

> Chetanananda, Swami. They Lived with God (Life Stories of Some

> Devotees of Sri Ramakrishna): Kolkata, 2002.

>

> Isherwood, Christopher. Ramakrishna and His Disciples: Kolkata,

> 2001.

>

> M. The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (Tr. into English by Swami

> Nikhilananda): Madras, 1996.

>

> M. The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna 2 vols. (Tr. into Hindi by

> Suryakant Tripathi Nirala): Nagpur, 2004.

>

> Mishra, Krishanbihari. Ramakrishna Paramhamsa Kalpatru ki Utsav

> Lila (Hindi): New Delhi, 2004.

>

> Muller, F. Max. Ramakrishna His Life and Sayings: Kolkata, 2005.

>

> Ramakrishna Sri. Sayings of: Madras, 2004.

>

> Ramakrishna Sri. Tales and Parables of: Chennai, 2004.

>

> Rolland, Romain. The Life of Ramakrishna: Kolkata, 2003.

>

> Saradananda, Swami. Sri Ramakrishna and His Divine Play (Tr. by

> Swami Chetanananda): St. Louis, 2003.

>

> ---------------------------

>

> The illustrations along with the text can be read at the

> HTML version of the article at

> http://www.exoticindia.com/article/ramakrishna/

>

> ---------------------------

>

> This article was send as a newsletter from the website:

> http://www.exoticindia.com

>

> Nitin G.

July 26, 2005

This is a lovely, soul-touching story, and the images add nicely to it.

Jai Maa!

Chris