Nityananda (from Marcus)

[Guest guest]

Harsha: Here is another chapter (second to last) of the book Marcus sent me

on Nityananda. For those interested in receiving all the chapters please

contact Marcus. The whole book was published on the Ananda list. One can

join there and get everything as well.

 

Remembering The Master

 

Captain M.U. Hatengdi, retired Naval Secretary at Naval Headquarters in New

Delhi, was a long-time disciple of Nityananda. This chapter is his story.

 

I remember first seeing Nityananda when I was five years old. It was 1920

and he was in the cattle shed of the late Colonel V. R. Miraijkar in

Mangalore. Many years later the famous surgeon recounted that on returning

home after eight years abroad he had argued with his mother about the young

Master to whom she was devoted. He did not understand how a woman so

fastidious about cleanliness could tolerate him. This was because in those

days the reclusive, rail-thin youth was as likely to be found on a doormat

or a dunghill as anywhere. The colonel's mother ordered her son to mind his

own business. He regretfully told me that decades passed before he

recognized Nityananda's greatness for himself.

 

In the early 1930's Nityananda still wandered South India and a long time

passed before I saw him again. In fact, it was only when I felt an urgent

desire for a spiritual teacher that a cousin who visited Ganeshpuri whenever

he traveled to Bombay agreed to take me to the ashram. And so it passed that

on June 10, 1943, I had my first darshan with the Master. The experience

evoked in me feelings of reunion with a long-lost friend and an unusual

inner peace. I remember not being nervous despite his silence that morning.

Later as he stood on the tiny porch outside his room, I boldly asked him

three questions. He gave suitable answers although the third concerned

mundane matters and his response seemed to imply that I should have known

better than to ask it.

 

After that I saw the Master every Sunday for a while. On one visit a young

man ran up to me outside the ashram and asked if he could come. Saying that

I thought everyone was welcome, I brought him along. Nityananda was away but

we soon saw him approaching from the direction of the river. He seemed to be

shouting at the stranger by my side. Entering the ashram, the Master shouted

again, asking the startled man who had brought him, and then told him to

leave. Turning to me, he said, "Never put yourself out to anyone here.

People come with different predilections (vasanas) and it's not for you to

interfere." My subsequent strict compliance with this directive brought me

problems later on--but no matter. I now understood the necessity of keeping

to myself and not becoming distracted from my spiritual practice.

 

On these early visits the Master was often away when I arrived, and it might

be an hour before he appeared. I always waited anxiously until I saw him

because there were few people about and the ashram felt empty. unaware of

his habitual and sudden disappearances, I thought that perhaps he traveled

to Kanhangad periodically and so I asked him. He replied, "This one won't go

anywhere in the future--only here." As if to avoid further queries he added,

"Moreover, traveling these days is difficult." This was during the Second

World War when civilians were advised to travel only when necessary. After

that Nityananda was always present when I came, either sitting on the cement

porch or in his room.

 

The years from 1944 to 1948 were golden for me. happily stationed near

Bombay, I spent a weekend every month in Ganeshpuri, often alone with the

Master. He always greeted me affectionately in Konkani, asking "Have you

come?"

 

Certain other patterns developed during these visits. For instance, he would

point to the room I was to occupy, there being only two--one on either side

of his own. The peculiarity was that I always stayed in the rooms by turn

without deviation. My activities also followed a routine. First I would

bathe in the hot springs and then sit to the left of the entrance.

Invariably, he always sat on the first step with the narrow doorsill

completely blocking my view of him. He never sat facing me. In fact, he

would sit for half an hour or more and then walk around only to return to

the same spot. This usually went on throughout the waking hours of my

visits, which mostly passed in silence. In the beginning, the moment

Nityananda sat down near me I would become drowsy and utilize all of my

self-control to stay awake. Gradually this experience subsided. I never

asked its signifigance, thinking that sitting near him was simply a form of

meditation.

 

Punctually at ten o'clock every night, he asked me to retire and close the

doors. Then, after extinguishing the small kerosene lamp, I lay in total

darkness listening to a jungle serenade of frogs and crickets and watching

glowworms light the trees with rhythmic regularity. The Master would slowly

push open my door at the same time every morning and stand there. And I

can't explain how, but my eyes opened every time he stood there in the

darkness. As soon as he saw that, he would say, "It's four o'clock," close

the door, and walk away. I would rise at once, bathe, and take my place near

the entrance. He then joined me for coffee, usually served black and

sweetened with ghee (clarified butter) because milk was scarce. The

affection he showed me was particularly evident when we sat by ourselves

after these morning coffee sessions. Such weekends of peace and happiness

made me long for his company, and I eagerly awaited the monthly rituals.

Many people have told me that the Master's presence in their lives gave them

a tangible sense of security. I know I always felf that he watched over me

and an incident from 1946 illustrates this:

 

It was dark and the grounds were slippery and treacher-

ous. On my way to the baths, I fell and cut my leg on the

sharp stones. In pain and bleeding badly, I washed the

wound with rainwater until I thought the bleeding had

stopped and then had my bath. Later I was evaluating the

injury in my room when Nityananda appeared suddenly,

poured a little sandalwood oil on the exact spot, and left

as he had come--without a word.

 

I have stated that our time together mostly passed in silence. however, he

did occasionally speak and his words to me at the close of my third visit

were particularly significant. "In life,'' he said, ''when a person

overcomes one obstacle, another presents itself. This process continues

until one's experience is complete and the mind is able to face any

situation with the right perspective." To me this was a disheartening idea

because I was still young and nursed a number of worldly ambitions. To view

life as an obstacle course was not a happy prospect. Still, having sought

him out for my spiritual development and not worldly gain, I knew there

would be no ultimate disappointment. Already I felt blessed with a strong

inner security and a longing for more of his grace.

 

The Master's conversation could appear casual and years might pass before I

appreciated his meaning. For instance, he broke one evening's silence by

uttering the solitary sentence that the words of Jesus could also be found

in the Bhagavad Gita. This was something about which I was quite ignorant at

the time. At other times I discovered that words spoken by him earlier were

destined to be fulfilled. Later I heard that when asked how to recognize

someone who had attained divine wisdom Nityananda replied that the words of

such a person (jnani) were always fulfilled.

In 1944 I suffered a tormenting period of inadequacy regarding my spiritual

practice. I did not ask him what I should do in fear that he would prescribe

some severe breathing exercises or mantra intonation. One night as we sat

together I hesitantly asked whether there was a particular book he would

advise me to read. His response was instant: "It's not necessary. But if you

must, read the Bhagavad Gita."*

 

*You may find the Bhagavad Gita online at http://www.bhagavad-gita.com

 

Nityananda's general disinterest in worldly events never surprised me--but I

knew he was aware of them. it was two days after Lord Mountbatten became

Viceroy that I arrived at the ashram for my monthly weekend. Sitting near

me, the Master said, "While Mountbatten is a good naval officer, he lacks

experience in politics." And certainly today an objective historian could

substantiate this view.*

*Nityananda's awareness of global events was amazing, particularly in the

early days at Ganeshpuri, due to the fact that the jungle ashram was

isolated, with no television or newspapers of any kind.

One Saturday night, with India's independence only four weeks away,

Nityananda made some weighty pronouncements about the future. First he

asked, "What does swaraj mean?" Defining it as ''freedom'' or ''self-rule,''

he said that India needed additional time to complete its training, hinting

that considerable begging and suffering remained for our country. He seemed

to say that India's continued dependence on outsied assistance would limit

our freedom. he added that greedy parties were forcing the situation in the

same way that people try to force fruit to ripen before its time. He even

predicted our country's division into several states because of petty

rivalries and jealousies. And everything he said has come to pass.

 

I was unable to understand at the time, being overwhelmed like others by the

euphoria of India's potential future and greatness. I remember foreigners

saying that with so much horsepower we only had to press the accelerator.

Alas, today's reality falls short of yesterday's hopes.

Months later, in September 1947, I again heard the Master speak about a

great national leader. He said that little time remained for this individual

and he wondered whether he was satisfied yet with his fame and

accomplishments. Why, Nityananda asked, did he not simply retire from

politics, close his eyes, and think of God--for God would come to him,

implying that he was a spiritually advanced soul. He added that a person

alone, regardless of greatness, cannot do everything. Instead we should each

treat life as a relay race, covering the bit of track meant for us as fast

as possible before passing on the baton. Four months later, Mahatma Gandhi

was assissinated.

Tommorrow, the second half of the final chapter.

 

Mahagurubhakti,

M

 

 

 

Harsha (Dr. Harsh K. Luthar) [hluthar]

Thursday, May 20, 1999 9:40 AM

Re: Blast from the Past

 

"Harsha (Dr. Harsh K. Luthar)" <hluthar

 

 

Jerry M. Katz [umbada]

 

Hey, just because you guys were dating back in the 70's and she didn't

want to be known as Barbra Bozzi all her life, is no reason to get all

uptight Dave...

 

Harsha: She could have been known as BB, which has a nice ring to it.

 

Then again, maybe she sat in on Harsha's exercise classes, and required

Harsha to stand on his head while singing 'People'. I don't know. I

really don't know.

 

Harsha: Barbara never came to my classes. Mary Tyler Moore did as did Hope

Lange. There were many actors, actresses and models, executives, politicians

there at the time including actors from Saturday night live. Bella Abzug was

a New York congress woman at the time and used to have philosophical

conversations with me about reincarnation. She often mentioned her friend

Shirley Winters as having similar interests. I was basically shy and

involved in yogic training and usually did not approach the students for

conversation. This was around 20 years ago.

 

 

------

ONElist: bringing the world together.

 

Join a new list today!

[Guest guest]

Dear Harsha:

 

Thanks to you and Marcus for sharing this. Not too long ago Nityananda gave

me some assistance.....and I really appreciated being able to read this.

 

Namaste,

Linda