In January through March of 2003, three of the monks from Atma Jyoti Ashram travelled to India, visiting holy places and people in Bengal, Tamil Nadu, and the foothills of the Himalayas. An account of their journeys is recorded in these collections of emails sent to the abbot of the Ashram in America.

Number 1: Bengal (Belur Math, Dakshineshwar, Jayrambati, and Kamarpukur, etc.); Tamil Nadu (Tiruvannamalai, Arunachala, and Ramanashram)

January 22, 2003

I1 am starting this on the laptop in Sadasivananda’s room in the Sadhu Niwas2 a little before eleven at night. We got here about an hour ago, and each of us is settled in our rooms. Swami Swahananda3 and apparently also Swami Ishtananda4 deserve our great thanks for the preparations made for us. We each have our own room, all on the second floor, each with its own adjoining bathroom and shower. The rooms are very clean, well-kept and simple–perfect arrangements for a sadhu. From our common veranda you can see the Ganga, which is right next to this building, and across the river you can the Cossipore Garden house5 and down the river you can see the Dakshineswar Kali Temple.6

The thirty-two hours of travel (counting the layovers) was definitely on the long side, and like Bilbo, at some points we felt we were spread pretty thin. Even though the airport hotel in Singapore was booked up, thanks to Sadasivananda’s persistence we managed to get a room and got some sleep earlier today. With that and the jetlag medicine, we are all feeling pretty good and ready to go.

Our driver Govindo met us at the airport, and treated us to a proper ride through the streets of Calcutta. He is definitely a master of the India art of intuitive motoring, and made it a point to pass as many other cars, rickshaws, and cows as possible, honking all the way. The three of us sat back, enjoyed the fun, and drank in the sights, sounds and smells of the Calcutta night.

Even though it was almost ten at night, shops and street stands of every imaginable variety (including a chiropractor) were open and busy, and there were a surprising amount of people out and about. The signs were great: “Theism Medical Supply Co.,” the “Paradise Nursing Home” (your imagination can complete the picture), and a sign painted on a decrepit wall proclaiming “Pollution Under Control.” Uh-huh.

There are plenty of opportunities here for new photo books for the Bharataphile7 market. A entire book could be devoted to “The Walls of Calcutta.” Other candidates are “The Signs of India” and “Motor Vehicles of Bharat.”

January 23, 2003

As you can probably guess, the one word to describe our experience here so far is “normal.” As time goes on and everything sinks in, I think “relief” is also a good word to add.

We got to bed a little before midnight. I slept very little and got up before three for mangalarati8 in the main temple, and Sadashiva was also up. We let Tarakananda sleep in and went for the arati and meditation, which was pretty well attended and completely quiet. After a very good breakfast which included some great upama (kind of like an Indian version of bread dressing), I went back to bed and the other two meditated by the shrine of Holy Mother9 and the steps by the Ganga.

Once the sun came up, more and more people began to drift through the ashram grounds, and eventually it got quite busy. After a few hours of meditation, Sadasivananda started to get up and a policeman nearby motioned him to stop, to stay where he was. Sadasiva said he needed to get his shoes but the policeman repeated the same motion. Sadasiva thought maybe he was in trouble for being a Westerner without shoes or some other infraction. But then another policeman came over with his shoes, put them down and pranamed to him. It turns out that while he was meditating someone stole his shoes but was seen doing it. The police caught the culprit and retrieved the shoes, but stood by in silence, maybe for an hour or even longer, waiting for the swami to finish his meditation rather than disturb him. India!

Everyone has been wonderful to us, and apparently everyone has heard about us. This morning we paid our respects to Swami Prameyananda, who is wonderful and asked us many details about our accommodations, plans, etc. He passed us on to Naren Maharaj, who apparently is the sarvadhikari10 (sp?), who asked some of the same questions and even had had a report on what we had for breakfast that morning! (We ate very lightly, and they know we don’t take a 9:00 p.m. evening meal, so our intake of food was a concern to him.) So we are having all accommodations.

We then asked one of the swamis to locate Prasun, who was notified by phone that some swamis from America were here to see him. I wish you could have been there to see his face when he came up to us: the desert fathers, now the desert swamis…here for his brahmachari ceremony! Yes, Friday, the day after tomorrow is Vivekananda Jayanti.11 Thousands of people are expected and the program actually looks quite good.

All the swamis here seem very happy to see us. After lunch today when we were doing our laundry at the Sadhu Niwas, a couple of swamis walked through and then stopped to watch us, smiling all the time while we stamped out our dhotis and kaupins. In general, people are glad to see that we observe Indian ways. The seva class around here are all wonderful–simple, innocent people, who seem to love us and take great care to do their simple tasks as perfectly as possible. The boy who takes care of our meals, Jala, was happy to see that not only did we eat with our hands, but the right hand only. The food here has been exceptional, some of the best Indian food we have had. You won’t lose weight on this diet.

Now we are going over to the Math office to email this, and then call Pranab to see if we can make arrangements to spend tomorrow at Dakshineswar. All this, and we haven’t even been here twenty-four hours!

January 24, 2003

On Wednesday Prasun helped us arrange a surprise for Ananda, who walked out of the main temple after evening arati and “discovered” us. He looks very well, as does Prasun. Life at Belur is certainly agreeing with both of them, and appears to be doing them great good.

Today (Thursday) is our second full day here, and it seems like we’ve been in India forever. We took the slow boat to Dakshineswar–very different from Belur Math, to say the least. This is India in the raw–what someone like Catherine Xenia would call “an ethnic experience”–chaos, rubble, crowds, filth, noise, a never-ending panorama of wonderful and inquiring faces, handless (literally) beggars, and great blessings!

Once we got our bearings and made it into the temple compound, we were met by Pranab, who had very generously arranged everything. We began by meditating in Sri Ramakrishna’s room. Tarakananda said that at one point he opened his eyes and a calico cat sauntered by sporting a red tilak!12 So even the cats here are devotees. I know this was not a vision, since we all saw Cat Maharaj later.

After Pranab introduced us in the temple office, we were brought past all the long queue of waiting devotees and right into Ma’s inner shrine, where we got to sit for a short time. I was surprised at how modest the image is, both in size and in the initial impression Ma gives. But as Swami Satyamayananda from the Mayavati math told us today, since we are gross we first see only Ma’s gross form, but through this experience something is awakened within us and begins to move, so we eventually experience the Mother’s true form of infinite consciousness. And when we were back at Belur this evening for arati, I could definitely feel that I was not the same person I was when I was sitting in the same spot twenty-four hours earlier. There is more to darshan15 than meets the eye.

After darshan of Ma we looked around some more, visited the Nahabat16 (so incredibly small), sat in the spot where Holy Mother sat in that wonderful picture of Her sitting on the stair, and then got a guided tour courtesy of a Bengali named Krishnanando, whom you will experience for yourself on videotape (“The entire world is completely mad!”). Pranab arranged for us to take Mother’s prasad17 with about one hundred or so other people, and the food was actually very good.

After we returned to Belur and rested some, we were taking care of some errands there and got to meet Swami Gitananda, an old swami that Ananda recommended visiting. He is a very holy man, one of the treasures of Belur that are there if you take the time to seek them out. When we asked him for his advice to us young sannyasis for success in the sannyasi life, he said “You only need one thing: God’s Name. Keep it with you always. You may not see Him, but you can be close to Him [through His Name]. There are many other things in books that seem to help some people, but I don’t know about these things, I just know God’s Name.”

Then we went to find Swami Bhajanananda, also recommended by Ananda. Swamiji was busy at the time, so he directed us to the office of the General Secretary, who was free at that time. We spent quite a long time with him, and like all the other swamis here, he knew about our visit and was interested to learn more about us, where we come from, where we got our sannyas, etc. When we commented on the spiritual climate of the West, he offered an interesting analysis. He said that the difference between India and the West is that in India we understand that matter comes from consciousness, whereas in the West they think that consciousness comes from matter.

Tomorrow is Vivekananda Jayanti. The day after (Saturday), at Pranab’s arrangement we will be driven to Kamarpukur, stay overnight at the Ramakrishna center there, and then go to Jayrambati and stay Sunday night at that center, and back on Monday. Our Bengal visit is expanding because of several reasons: it takes longer than we thought to do all we want to do, people want to host us in some way (there will apparently be a second, private darshan with President Maharaj), and we love being here more than we anticipated. So we will be emailing Mangalananda to see how we can coordinate our schedules. Hopefully we can be better about email; they have a “one call to your lawyer” policy here and discourage email beyond any vital communications, so we will have to find an email shop outside of Belur.

We are all very favorably impressed with Belur Math. There are many wonderful swamis here, holy, intelligent, sattwic, worthy of respect. There is the opportunity for the real life, if a person knows what to seek and how (gee, doesn’t that sound simple?).

P.S. From Sadasivananda. Just a few minutes ago while wandering out in the night at Belur, I was approached by a Swami who asked my name. When I answered, he said that he knew all about us (the word has spread quickly). As we spoke I noticed that his eyes were very much like Swami Swahananda’s. After catching this glimpse I mentioned that we frequently have satsang with Swamiji when he visits San Diego. He then paused and looked into the distant night for a long moment, then he said that in 1964 he met Swamiji in Delhi–and that meeting and the experience of Swami Swahananda’s spiritual presence caused the conviction to arise in him to take up the monastic life. He mentioned that this experience did not take him by surprise, but rather confirmed the prediction that his parents told him was given by Anandamayi Ma. Ma had given some type of diksha to both the parents and said that their son would become a monk. This Swami (Nirsulananda (sp?)) then just looked at me with the eyes of one who possesses a secret life of spiritual wealth. Seeing this, I asked if he would tell me of some of his meetings with Mother (of which he has had many) and also of saints of Belur. He simply said, “we can talk,” so when that chance arrives, I will seek him out.

There is a very hungry mosquito flying around me at this moment, and since it is 3:00 a.m., and I feel sure that he will not give up until either I become his breakfast or I grant him a new incarnation. So I will be off to Holy Mother’s temple. If I am to become someone’s breakfast, I might fare better if I am meditating when it happens.

Just arrived back to the Sadhu Niwas (Sadhu Hilton of Belur). The entire math is alive with kirtan, music, and elaborate decorations for the day’s festivities of Swami Vivekananda’s Jayanti. (The music started before dawn.) Special permission has been given to use the camera, so in time others can experience the wonders.

I have found that if you get to one of the temples early enough to catch one of the old Bengali women meditating (which needs to be at least by 2:30 a.m.) you will discover the best spots for meditation. I found one and sat there today–directly facing the back door of Holy Mother’s temple, which is about one foot from where Her ashes are enshrined. When I opened my eyes from a long period of japa, I found a very large and fat mosquito lying dead on the chaddar in my lap–apparently I survived the morning’s “battle of the bugs.”

A few hours later. A truly amazing time, and I think that the flavor and wonder of it all is recorded on tape.

After morning meditation, all of the new brahmachari’s-to-be went into President Maharaj’s rooms to be blessed and to formally ask for the confirmation of brahmacharya. Then they proceeded through Belur to pranam to all the senior swamis and all of the temples. As the new candidates were filing out of the Presidents room they passed through a hallway in which we had been told to sit. They came through and pranamed, touched our feet and then looked up at us with expressions of true peace, strength, and contentment that can only be found on the face of a monk. I think, truly, that I was more blessed then they by the whole experience.

We then proceeded to experience the events of the morning, which included an India Boys School marching band, complete with only one verse of music played over end over again. You know, “ boom boom boom boom BOOM boom.”

Finally, after filming President Maharaj pranaming inside the main shrine of the Sri Ramakrishna Temple, Swami Prameyananda gave me permission to film the entire inside of Swami Vivekananda’s room which was decorated beyond belief. The Swami that has been taking care of Swamiji’s room for the past fifty years personally showed me around the room, pointing out anything that he thought I had missed (which meant that everything got filmed twice).

P.P.S. Pranab just came by with the driver for tomorrow. It is possible that we will have one of Sri Ramakrishna’s relatives as our guide in Kamarpukur. Pranab will be taking us to Kalighat and M’s18 house later next week. Sadashiva says he is having sleeping problems because he is used to hearing the coyotes at night, and now he just hears the putter of boats on the Ganga, which he can see from his bed.

January 28, 2003

There’s treasure everywhere, and we’ll do our best to share it with you.

Friday was Vivekananda Jayanti at Belur Math. This is a very important festival at Belur, both because of the great significance that Vivekananda has for them and also because it culminates with the all-night rituals of brahmacharya diksha.

Having talked to this Swami, who spoke in his talk and to us about the conditions of India and about some of Vivekananda’s ideas about this, I think we all have a better sense of the importance to them of what he said and was.

We have a growing respect for the Belur swamis. Many of them have a sobriety, discipline, and intelligence that seems to be unique in India, and we have had many very good conversations with them, especially Swami Satyamayananda who is well versed in yoga shastras. And the level and seriousness of the grihastas20 that go there is very good compared to those you see outside of the Math. The Math is a genuine force for good in India, on many levels. Even though we’ve been here some days, I’m still surprised to discover how many of the Belur swamis have heard about us and show such care for making sure we have a pleasant stay. In general they seem eager or at least intent on showing us respect as sannyasis.

The brahmacharya ceremonies went all night long and included a Kali puja21 where Thakur is worshipped as Kali, as is described in the Gospel. The ceremony ended about 5:45 a.m. and I waited outside to congratulate Prasun, or at least salute him. After the brahmacharis filed out, President Maharaj was escorted out and stopped to allow me to salute him. This is also one rare time when the sannyasis and brahmacharis actually enter the inner shrine to pranam before Thakur, and I got permission to do so, even getting extra time in there because someone blocked the exit from the shrine with a ladder he was fiddling with, so I was “stuck” in there for a while by myself with Sri Ramakrishna. Gosh, what tough luck.

On Saturday Pranab’s driver took us to Jayrambati. On the way we stopped at the Tarakeshwar temple. This temple makes the Dakshineswar temple look very tame by comparison, and I retract my earlier comments that the latter is India in the raw. It was already pretty chaotic when we entered, and the benign bedlam went up a few notches when they got sight of us–Westerners with rupees. Still, everyone including the beggars were very nice, with the possible exception of course being the priests themselves who were very pushy about extracting as much cabbage as possible. On the way out we encountered a wonderful lady sadhu or beggar, I’m not really sure which, and you’ll see her in our photos.

It was great to get out of the cacophony, squalor and pollution of Calcutta, and into the Bengal countryside. When we arrived at the math we were introduced to the mahant, Swami Ameyananda. He has an infectious Jonathan Winters kind of laugh. He personally gave us a tour of the facility and even the surrounding area: two different houses that Holy Mother lived in, the local cremation ground, Swami Saradananda’s special meditation spot out past the fields, and the Simhavahini temple. When we came to this temple there was some kind of special event in progress with a brass band in action and a tethered goat awaiting its execution on the cleared ground at the front of the temple. When we went by later in the day, a couple of men were busy rending the Mother’s child.

The central murti22 in the Matri Mandir is a marble image of Holy Mother which matches the style of Thakur’s murti at Belur, and I was surprised at the blessing we received when we first came to pranam to Her. The Jayrambati ashram really is Mother’s garden. There is much beauty physically and spiritually, and the atmosphere is one of shanti23 and mangala,24 like sitting in the Mother’s lap. This is not hyperbole.

The ashram is surrounding by seemingly endless fields of very green potato plants, some rice and some mustard plants. Once there was a terrible drought in all of Bengal. Holy Mother made a great circle around this area and said, “There will never be a drought here.” And not only has that been fulfilled, but it is one of the most fertile farmlands there, giving many harvests each year.

During our tour the swami pointed out a scrubby, grassy area at the edge of the fields, which is the local cremation ground. At first glance you just notice some blackened patches of ground and ash piles here and there, and then you see “the clay people.” The local custom is that after the cremation is over, the ashes are mixed with water and the earth at the site and the ash-clay is shaped into the form of a human body, with arms up and legs spread, all limbs bent, kind of like a baby sleeping on its back. Then a big clay pot of water is placed over the middle of the body, or in some spots we saw a tulsi plant growing out of the clay body.

We met Holy Mother’s grand nephew, and also some older-than-God swamis, one a disciple of Mahapurush Shivananda and one of Swami Akhandananda. They were a real surprise, which I guess shouldn’t be a surprise! At first glance you think it’s past time for them to move on to the other shore, they look so old and creaky. And then you find one sitting on the floor in meditation with the other sannyasis (the Shivananda disciple, kind of a tough sadhu type) and the other one pumping the harmonium and leading the evening kirtan in a loud voice.

On Sunday and again today (Monday) at Kamarpukur it was more of the same. We arrived just before lunch and as we sat by the temple, Tarak Ghoshal (the fifth-generation nephew of Sri Ramakrishna who has a strong family resemblance to Him) let us into the inner shrine to meditate, and later we were allowed to meditate in Thakur’s bedroom. We also met his father.

This morning Tarak led each of us through Shiva puja in the Shiva temple outside the gate, the one from which a great light came out and entered Chandramani, Thakur’s mother. And then afterwards he let us stay inside to meditate.

After lunch today Mr. Guha, a very dear small old Bengali man, led us around and then outside the temple grounds, showing us all the important spots of Thakur’s life as a child throughout the neighborhood: the temple where He hid when playing truant, the place where He went into samadhi during the Shiva play, and many others. There is a huge mango tree there that was planted by Sri Ramakrishna. One hundred and sixty years later it still gives fruit–about two thousand mangoes in the even years and about forty mangoes in the odd years.

Thakur’s temple at Kamarpukur has the most extraordinary atmosphere of any of the places we have visited yet, of a character and strength unlike any other. I was astounded when we first sat outside the shrine to meditate; it was like what I would imagine the Holy Sepulchre to be, and much like what I remember of the first time I met Mother. We spent several hours meditating there later in the day, during which I no longer felt that first intense atmosphere but still found it a very good place to meditate. Anyway, atmospheres and experiences come and go, and in the end it’s still you, Pranava,25 and your mind.

We all dearly love Bengal, even more than we anticipated. Especially since we’ve been in the countryside, we’re discovering the wisdom of listening to your Mother–Mother India, that is. I’ve always been skeptical about the idea that you can learn from anyone: a child, a sweeper, etc., etc. But in India I see that here, and only here, this is really true. There is much to learn, and also much to unlearn. You can learn so much just by watching the way a swami walks, as I noticed this morning: in a slow self-possessed manner that is not lazy or slouchy. I find I continually have to catch myself and stop walking like an “American.” And people’s manner of interacting with each other and with us–I now have a fuller appreciation of what Swami Nirmalananda means by calling Indians HUMAN BEINGS. Their quiet, almost shy manner which is really a sign of genuine respect–so different from the intrusive manner of these gross Westerners, who are so busy gobbling up life that they don’t even take the time to chew it or taste it before they gulp it down.

We find that with Indians there is a different character to the monk/laity split. In a way it isn’t a split, and you don’t find yourself despising their ways and vice versa, as in America. People seem to understand each other’s place in life and respect it, and everyone gets along. And many of them are striving towards the same goal, in some way. At Belur, Jayrambati and Kamarpukur we’ve seen many householders sitting like a rock in meditation, frequently up even earlier than we are.

Today during our walking tour a young boy named Gaurab, about nine I’d say, followed with us, taking it in. This evening when I finished meditating before Thakur’s main shrine, I saw that he was seated a few feet away from me, meditating. Later he venerated the shrines very seriously, slowly, and prayerfully. We are NOT in Kansas, Toto.

In any case, in our visit to Bengal Mother India has given us the dessert of our trip first. We’ll see how the main course is when we get to Arunachala. The next few days are packed. Tomorrow morning we’ll make an early trip back to Calcutta, where we have been invited for a visit and lunch at Advaita Ashram.

Manish, a very helpful Marathi brahmachari whom we met at Belur and who lives at Advaita Ashram, has offered to let us use their computers to send email, and has arranged for us to meet a man who can help us with things we might need from Calcutta after we return to America (we won’t talk about that now). We’ve become acquainted with several Marathis, and found that they tend to be Indians that can get things done. The Advaita monks are apparently very interested to meet us, as has been most of the Ramakrishna swamis we’ve met.

We’ll be back at Belur on Tuesday afternoon. Then Wednesday is Ma Kali day: We’ll begin the day with a visit to Adyapith, then meet Pranab at the Dakshineswar Temple and go to his house for lunch, then on to M’s house, a house where Holy Mother lived, and then Kalighat. On Thursday we hope to visit Cossipore in the morning and say our goodbyes at Belur.

A leg of the trip I forgot to tell you about: Between Jayrambati and Kamarpukur we visited Hriday’s Durga shrine and met his grandson (and later his great grandson), saw the Shivanath temple where Holy Mother as a child pointed out Sri Ramakrishna as Her future husband, and the bel tree where Holy Mother’s mother had the experience of a light entering her and Holy Mother was divinely conceived. Since it was Republic Day, Swami Ameyananda invited to us attend a special program at the Math’s school for the local children, and I spoke for a few minutes.

Later this afternoon just as I was finishing this in our room in the guesthouse, we got a visit from Tarak, who walked us all around Kamarpukur and then to his house, to meet all four generations of his family. We’ll write more about this in our next letter, since it’s a whole subject to itself. He also invited us to offer Shiva puja again tomorrow morning before breakfast and leaving.

When we were leaving Jayrambati, Swami Ameyananda told us to give Swami Nirmalananda his pranams and said he hopes “Nirmalanandaji will come to Mother’s place.”

February 2, 2003

I guess I need to pick up our narrative with the walking tour around Kamarpukur that Tarak Ghosal gave us. Mr. Guha had really covered most of the main spots, but Tarak’s tour went a little further afield, into some more outlying areas, and it really gave us more of an appreciation of Kamarpukur as Gadai’s26 village, His home town.

We saw a Shiva temple where the Lord spoke to Thakur’s mother telling her that the reports of His insanity were untrue. We saw the spot where Thakur was first recognized and worshipped as a divine incarnation by the old bracelet-maker.

The banyan tree where Thakur did tapasya as a young man is on the edge of a soccer field. The tree is surrounded by a cement wall and filled with litter, but it is well worth the time to meditate there. The soccer field is actually the former location of the village cremation ground where He used to meditate. The present cremation ground is just about twenty feet away from the banyan tree, and there we saw another “clay man,” this one not only with a pot and tulsi tree but colorfully garlanded and surrounded by four small red flags on sticks, one at each extremity.

Tarak has very pleasant, sahaja,27 yet dignified manner; I would say he is the prince of Kamarpukur, and implicitly recognized as such by the local people as we walked around. We saw some wonderful cows, kids, and ponds. (Pretty descriptive, huh? Words don’t work here.)

After our tour and visit we went to evening arati. It’s very interesting to watch the pujari at Kamarpukur. Each item he offers in the arati is like a different creature. The conch is like a cobra rising up and dancing before the Lord. The flower moves and flits back and forth like a small bird before Him. The chowri is like a wild-haired white-haired crazy dancer, swaying and dancing in ecstasy.

Friday we started the day with Shiva puja again. After breakfast we were given a short sitar concert by one of the workers at the Kamarpukur ashram, in his bedroom. Then we said goodbye to Kamarpukur and began our return to Calcutta for our Advaita Ashram appointment.

Everybody recommended we visit the Antpur ashram, so we planned to make a short, unannounced visit, pranam, and go on. A staff member welcomed us there and showed us the sannyas sankalpa shrine,29 which has a very good bas-relief mural of the disciples. Then we went into the house and saw the new shrine to Holy Mother just dedicated last year, in the room where She stayed. The decorative woodwork, etc., is very well done, but the surprise is the photo itself: the one we’ve all seen a hundred times, about three feet tall. It has a very strong presence and somehow a different appearance, as happens when an image becomes alive.

Our pranam-and-go schedule seemed to be working, and just as we turned on to the road outside the ashram gates, a motorbike came by with the old head swami, Govinda Maharaj, riding on the back. Only in India can you find such a person, and only in India can he be really appreciated. Govinda Maharaj is not “pretty” to the Western eye, but he was beautiful to us. He has been operated on recently for throat or tongue cancer, and has a little difficulty enunciating, since part of his tongue is gone. We later learned from other Ramakrishna Mission swamis that the cancer is apparently in remission, and also that he hasn’t let this problem get him down or hinder his work: onward and upward!

He just wouldn’t take no for an answer, and kidnapped us back to the ashram. He began by feeding us each a plateful of sweets, then getting our opinions on different kinds of puffed rice snacks which he himself served to us, teasing us all the while. When it came to camera time, he got even more mischievous. We asked him if he was this mischievous with other visitors: “No!” When we said he was not only a mischievous person, but a very mischievous person, he told us “I am Number One mischievous person.”

While they prepared prasad for us, he sent us down the road to have darshan of Siddeshwari Kali. (There’s another Kali of the same name that has some association with Thakur or Sri Ma, but this isn’t that one.) The temple compound is pretty large, and the devi is bigger than life or at least seemed so, and white, not black. She seemed nice, but nothing to write home about, until we sat in front of the shrine to meditate. She welcomed us all with Her benign, living, and peacefully powerful presence. As one of the swamis at the math later told us, “The local people say that something living is there.” We gave them a donation that we were told would feed several hundred people, and they showed us their food preparation court.

Back at the ashram we had a very good lunch, visited with a few of the brahmacharis, and then were put to bed for our afternoon nap in a very spacious room on the second floor. Later it turned out that because of other obligations Govinda Maharaj would not be able to talk with us as planned. So we found him at an adjacent temple, said our goodbyes, and drove on to Advaita Ashram.

Also February 2, 2003

It is mid-morning in Tiruvanammali. Although urban Madras was a welcome change from urban Calcutta, once we got into the country we were surprised to find that there’s nothing really special about it, at least the areas we drove through. You know it’s India, but it doesn’t have “IT.” Mother spoiled us with the Bengali countryside, and this has become our reference point.

This changes the moment you see Arunachala. When you see it, you know it’s Arunachala. I was physically and mentally a little worse for the wear at that point in the trip, but the moment we saw the holy mountain the Pranava got much stronger and my mind woke up and paid attention. No doubt there is something special here, things to discover.

On the way to Tiru30 we stopped at Kanchipuram, at a very big Vishnu temple (Varadaraja). One of the priests gave us the tour, and darshan was very nice; the Lord has a wonderful full face with a glowing, mangala smile. Then came the fleecing (mucho rupees). Our next stop was the Shankara Math, where the younger Shankaracharya was in the midst of morning puja. The inner shrine curtain was closed at that time, and people were sitting around the hall waiting for darshan. We got a brief look at him, a short tour, and we were on our way.

Ramanashram has a good atmosphere and is very well managed, as far as rules and disciplines they require (mostly, keep the schedule and keep quiet). It is a real place for sadhana. We had a brief meeting with Mr. Ramanan when we arrived, who is a very dignified and pleasant man and who seemed genuinely pleased to see us. When we visited the new samadhi shrine we met his father, the swami on the video, who was just as on the tape.

Mangalanandaji found us in our room yesterday afternoon. It was great to see him and talk with him, and India is surely his natural home. He had a pretty bad cough and has still been climbing around the mountain. He said that the other day he almost passed out on the way down. We hope we can slow him down a little bit, in a mild way. I will ask him to write you an email giving you all his news, so he can tell you for himself about his illness, Swami Bhaskaranandaji’s visit to Omkareshwar, and some very interesting conversations he had with Swamiji about mantra and meditation.

He said that the protocol when coming to a new place is to visit the presiding deity first. So he took us to the Arunachaleswara Temple, where we bought some large beautiful garlands to offer. You can bypass the long line of those waiting for darshan by giving the priests twenty rupees. A small, thin priest took us to the shrine, which was like a spa–literally steam in the air. I would describe Arunachaleswara Shiva as Bholanath and Managlaraja. The priest made some offerings in our names, refused the rupees, and then took us into the devi shrine nearby, where he made more offerings for us and then garlanded each of us with large flower malas from the devi–an auspicious beginning to our visit here

There is much to learn here, both inside and outside, and it appears much that is admirable in the ashram itself.

Feb. 4, 2003

A bit of a backtrack to Bengal.

Because of the late hour, on our way to Advaita Ashram we got stuck in Calcutta traffic at rush hour. It was unbelievable: cars, trucks, bikes, motor rickshaws, and jaywalkers ALL jockeying for positions. It’s like bumper cars on a grand scale, but nobody gets bumped–a miracle! And the pollution was beyond belief. Only Kalki Avatar32 could clean up a mess like this.

Advaita Ashram reminded us of our monastery. There was an ease and camaraderie amongst them and us–just monks with monks. They invited us for evening tiffin, which of course quickly turned into an invitation to evening dinner. One of the monks sat by me and was my “bhog33 guru,” carefully watching what I ate, telling me occasionally to slow down, etc. Since they don’t have to manage a temple or do seva that has too much of a direct connection with the public, they seem to be more their own men.

Brahmachari Manish, a Marathi whom we met at Belur, wanted us to meet a man who sponsors some kind of Vivekananda Foundation, who he said was interested and willing to help us with anything we may need once we return to the USA. At his arrangement we met him at the Calcutta Festival, of which he is one of the organizers. At their invitation I said a few remarks about how fortunate they were to be born in holy India, and some other memorable words that I can’t remember. Then there was the grip-and-grin, visiting-American-swamis photo shoot, which may have ended up in the local papers, and the VIP tour of the displays. Actually, it was very well done and we would have liked to have spent more time. All the booths were selling handicrafts and generally upscale goods made in India.

The next day we were invited for lunch at Pranab’s house, preceded by darshan at the temple. I have to laugh at myself when I look at my thoughts about Dakshineswar just a week before: “India in the raw”?! Now it seems pretty normal to me, and apparently we seem pretty normal to the other temple priests, who were glad to see us. The Kali Temple is actually well-organized and much more devotionally oriented than some other big temples, and they haven’t fallen prey to the cross-my-palm-with-gold syndrome that afflicts so many temple priests elsewhere. The Devi there is a beautiful and benign mother. I am grateful to Ma Kali in Her Siddeshwari form, because since I “tasted water” at Antpur now I can recognize water at other temples.

We asked Pranab if we could speak with the sadhu in the Shiva temple, and he told us he doesn’t speak, except for a few vital phrases or words. Pranab said that thirty-five years ago this man was a dacoit (!). He waylaid a young newly-married woman and cut off her arm (or part of it) to get her expensive wedding bangles. She died, and seeing the family’s grief he was shocked into awakening. He took a vow of mauna,34 wipes the shrine floor with his bare hands, and is in the Shiva shrine every day for all the time it is open. Outside those hours he stays somewhere else, but nobody seems to know where. If you ever get to meet him you’ll see how he is such an amazing testimony to the redemptive power of sadhana.35 it’s just like the stories from the Desert Fathers.

Lunch with Pranab’s family was great. His wife Tesuree is this jolly, wonderful soul that is one hundred percent Bengali. Her English is better than Pranab’s, and she explained she had seen us in a picture we had sent to them via Bhajananandaji, and inquired about the “beeg swami, veddy fattie.” God, are we suckers for Bengalis! Like Zero Mostel says about Russians in The Great Catherine, they have two hearts, one on each side of their chest.

Pranab’s eight-year-old son goes to the local Ramakrishna Mission school, and he sang the Vivekananda song (Tapash Ghosh sings this on the tape) for us. He was so shy that when it came time for the song, he went out of the room and sang it for us where he’d be out of sight.

After lunch we made our way through Calcutta traffic to Kalighat. Sobhita, Tesuree’s aunt who works at Sarada Math, came along with us. She knew the priests at Kalighat better than Pranab, and even he felt more at ease with her making our arrangements for darshan.

Kalighat–oh boy! After a series of negotiations and standing around in the chaos and mess, to our surprise we were placed in the VIP darshan line, along with Pranab and Sobhita. The Devi is enclosed by a metal grating or frame of a sort, with an in-gate and out-gate in front of Her. You walk down into a small inner shrine, passing behind Her, and then you get your turn for offering before Her. The priests saw us coming (i.e., American=rupees), we knew it, and they knew we knew it and we didn’t mind.

Pranab was very irritated by their greed and their lack of devotion, and later said so. He volunteered to manage any money exchanges to protect our funds. But in the yelling, sprinkling, bowing, tilaking, and garlanding that ensued, one of the priests got Sadasivananda aside and offered him “special blessings” for five hundred rupees, after which he offered even greater blessings for two thousand rupees! His payment was of course a pouring of oil on fire, and as Calvin says, “uncontrolled chaos” followed. Although we were just a few feet away, it was so crowded that we couldn’t see all that happened, but apparently he got great blessings, his head was touched to the Devi’s golden tongue and more.

After this the priests invited us all to a prasad snack in a side room, and then continued to bless us. “Gawd bless you” was a particular favorite, since it seemed to crack everyone up, and Aunt Sobhita in particular was amused and perplexed when the priests blessed us by touching and rubbing rupee notes to our heads and backs, including hers. However, the priest’s brother, a more serious man, gave us a great blessing when he touched our heads with his sacred thread and said special mantras. Afterwards they took us on a whirlwind tour of some shrines in the nearby streets, and then we moved on to M’s house.

Upstairs is the shrine room, where there has been unbroken worship of a Durga shrine consecrated by Holy Mother, a kumbha.36 The shrine included Sri Ramakrishna’s shoes, some of His hair and nails, some of Holy Mother’s hair and nails, and more. They invited us to sit and meditate, and it had a very holy presence. M’s great grandson remembered Mother’s visit there, and he said he considered Her an incarnation of God.

All of the family were very dear people, shy but at the same time very loving, as is the Bengali way. Bengalis are like a well-soaked gulab jamun. At first encounter they appear to have a “skin”–a little respectfully distant or seemingly aloof. I think this is because they are all “soft underbelly,” emotional and therefore vulnerable. But with just a gentle touch–a smile, a “namashkar,” the sweetness and softness that is their true nature just flows out of them. We loved them and they loved us.

Afterwards we returned to Pranab’s, where we said our goodbyes. We gave him a donation for the beggars at Dakshineswar, and also a sizable donation specifically in your name for feeding the poor, which is part of his duties as a zamindar family. Apparently those who are fed are asked to pray for the donor by name–so be sure to watch the post for letters from all the literate, English-speaking beggars at Dakshineswar!

Pranab is really an admirable person, working very hard for the temple, and he very graciously took time out of his schedule to spend the day with us. Right now he and the other priest are even having to put in extra time in the wee hours doing major repairs in the inner shrine themselves, since non-priests cannot come in there to do the work. The driver he arranged for all our Bengal travel was fantastic. He drives for Belur Math, and is not like other drivers, who according to Pranab are known for drinking, smoking, and cursing. We are truly in Pranab’s debt.

That day was really packed, and the following day we stayed at Belur, recovering and taking care of a few loose ends. Before arati we had a half-hour private interview with President Maharaj. After arati we visited Rajendra Maharaj (I don’t know his sannyas name) in the Mission office. There he oversees the finances for the entire order, especially the investments of the different centers’ assets. He is a great devotee of Holy Mother, and it was wonderful to talk with him about Sri Ma and spiritual life.

What date?

Today Sadasivananda had to take it easy, so Mangalananda, Tarakananda and I did giri37 pradakshina (the first time for Tarakananda and I). As you know, they say that Arunachala Shiva will grant the wish you ask when you do pradakshina. So we divvied up three wishes, put these in the hands of Arunachala Shiva, and made our walk. The mountain is a living Being, and in some inexplicable way you do feel the Lord as the mountain working on you as you walk around. The living power of Arunachala and its quiet, profound influence on all around it is something we’re just beginning to experience and appreciate.

February 5, 2003

Here follows a true tale to be told: Kalighat Ma’s Best Darshan, Kalighat Ma’s Very Best Darshan, or WHAT one can get at Kalighat for 51 Bucks.

We entered the inner shrine of Kalighat Kali and instead of awe or perhaps fear, I felt that complete ever-new joy that only India can convey (the fear will come shortly). The other swami’s were in front of me and they and I received garlands off of Kali and they touched the side of the Mother. When my turn came, the pujari, who was one of two brothers present representing the All-India Champion Tag Team for Rupee Extraction said to me: “Ma’s Best Blessing for Rs. 500.” Sooooo out came eleven bucks and he took my hand in his with the note and held it on Kali’s side while he recited mantras. Words really fail to describe the experience, and what happened next was beyond belief–except for the fact that when I close my eyes and see Kali’s eyes ( I forgot to say that I was standing only one-and-a-half feet from the creator of the Universe) I can relive the moment, thus reassuring myself that this really happened.

The Pujari then said “Ma just told me that you will have Ma’s Very Best Darshan–Rs. 2000!” Sooooo, I took out forty bucks and asked him if Ma really just said: “Rs. 2000.” He just looked at me with the expression of a mother who knows that she is about to make her son the happiest child in the world, took the money with one hand, and with the other hand behind my head bowed me over toward Kali Ma’s Mouth! NOW the fear! What is one to do when your head is being offered directly into Kalighat Kali’s Mouth? I grabbed hold of Her Tongue and said OOOOOOMMMMMMM! The Pujari (who thought he had seen everything) was surprised as he exclaimed: “MMMMMAAAAAAA!”

After a timeless moment he moved my head over toward the side of Ma’s head and just left me there. I glimpsed the truth of the phrase: “see how black becomes one with Black.”38 I forced myself to take advantage of, no doubt, “the chance of a lifetime,” and prayed to Kali to help all who we know. Spontaneously, images of people appeared before my mind one after another. Some were of people who we have not seen for years.

February 6, 2003

Last night we met a Swami on the stairway coming down from the roof who began the upadesh39 with a wonderful lecture on aerodynamics. He was a professor of the same at a college in Tamil Nadu. The subject of the evening’s lecture was centered around the recent NASA tragedy. He said that the space vehicle inspectors knew that there was a small defect in the craft, but let the mission proceed without repair. In his words, the defect was .00001% of importance, but this minutest defect was enough to bring about total ruin and death.

After making this point clear in a classic collegiate professorial manner, he quickly went directly to the heart of his intention for teaching us, which was of course the spiritual side of the lesson. He continued that in spiritual life we must pay the closest attention even to the very smallest and apparently insignificant details. So when we begin to reap the fruits of our meditation and our hearts and minds become pure, we will then be most susceptible to the tiny details that were left unattended to. Using the NASA simile, he strongly admonished us that when we soar very high and fast with our physical vehicles, the descent could prove dangerous if we have not completely “swept the entire house clean.” This was the word we received from India’s “man on the street.”

We later met David Godman and spoke to him while sitting on the steps of the Temple for about an hour. He has been living in India for twenty-five of the last twenty-six years, and had a lot of good advice. He also spoke to us about Bhagavan’s Self-Inquiry method. Although his eyes did show that “something” was going on, the explanation frankly takes a lot for granted, especially considering the fact that one is dealing with THE archenemy of millions of lifetimes, who long ago quickly learned ALL the tricks of self delusion and who can instantly bestow the boon of ecstasy or the bane of hatred when either will “fill the bill” for insuring that you totally miss the mark.

On the walk home, we did get the blessing of many many sadhus among whom, I’m positive, many were saintly.

P.S. Two small Indian children (brother and sister of age four and five) just walked into the room with burning charcoal and frankincense and flowers to offer puja to the pictures on the little altar next to the bed. It was wonderful. Of course, rupees were discussed. Considering the world market, India is the ONLY place on earth were God comes cheap! In fact, sometimes you don’t even have to ask!

February 6, 2003

We began our last day in Bengal with a visit to the Cossipore Garden house. We have found again and again that it pays to know somebody and to make arrangements in advance. Our original plan was to just show up during visiting hours. But one of the monks whom I met by chance on the way to the Mission office volunteered to contact Cossipore and introduce us.

When we arrived there, Swami Tattwabodhanandaji greeted us and gave us a tour of the house and grounds, where Sri Ma stayed, where the disciples stayed, where Vivekananda was given his samadhi experience by Sri Ramakrishna, and more. He unlocked the inner shrine and let us in during the puja, so we could pranam and touch Thakur’s mahasamadhi bed. Then he watched over us and talked as we were served an Indian breakfast of fruit, chapatis, fried bread, date syrup, and some kind of sweet paneer–my kind of breakfast!

It’s always worthwhile to ask a Ramakrishna Mission swami his life story. Swamiji is a little younger than Swami Swahanandaji, whom he has known for decades. He laughed at himself when he recalled that out of sympathy he once offered Swami Swahananda some bhiksha (I think it was a few rupees) when Swahananda was on pilgrimage to Uttarkashi, and to his embarrassment later found who Swami Swahananda was and the affluent family he came from.

Swamiji was born in Coorg, somewhere down near Kerala, in a well-to-do family. Some friends described Hardwar to him as a celestial city full of sadhus, and he was inspired to take shukla sannyas40 and walk there. He not only walked from Kerala to Hardwar, he did so in a very zigzag manner, going from the East to the West and back as he made his way northwards. After about six years in the Ramakrishna Mission center there, someone asked him where he got his sannyas. Apparently this was a new concept to him, and eventually his sannyas was “regularized.”

In over fifty-some years with the Order Swamiji built and ran hospitals, schools, temples, and cerebral palsy centers. At one time he even learned anesthesiology and radiology, which he practiced at the hospital. Yet with all this secular involvement he has still retained a spiritual dimension (that’s a pretty measured compliment), and we felt the stories and wisdom he shared with us was genuine, not a tape recording for the tourists. One thing he pointed out that I never thought about (or had missed): Sri Ramakrishna attained enlightenment, the vision of the Mother, without initiation from a guru. All the initiations and other sadhanas came afterwards.

On Kalpataru Day41 they feed tens of thousands of people, and people line up for hours for darshan. Swamiji said that to this day Thakur is still the Kalpataru,42 and many people testify to getting answers to their special prayers offered in the main shrine or at the site of the tree where Sri Ramakrishna was originally standing. We prayed in both places.

We took our leave and then went by taxi to the shrines where Sri Ramakrishna and others (Abhedananda, Gauri Ma, and others) were cremated. Then we went on to Adyapith, arriving just before one of the three short darshans/aratis of the day.

The story behind this ashram is that a saint named Anada Maharaj was told by Sri Ramakrishna in a vision about the existence of a Kali murti, buried somewhere nearby. He dug there and found it, and a temple was built. The main temple is pretty big (tall), with huge tall doors. Everyone sits on a raised portico in front of and across from the front of the temple. Even before the arati began we could feel the presence of the Devi emanating from the temple. And when the doors were opened, the arati commenced with thundering drums and banging gongs and cymbals. The shrine has three painted stone images, arranged one above the other on vertical tiers, all almost life-size: Radha-Krishna at the top, a reproduction of the Devi with the original image in front at Her feet, and then Sri Ramakrishna at the lowest level. The spiritual atmosphere was amazing: a great wave of benevolent shakti rolled out of the shrine and over us all, and lasted without interruption throughout the arati. It was like being baptized in waves of chaitanya.43 It was Mother Kali as we had not yet experienced Her during this trip.

After arati we tried to give a donation in the office, but the young man in charge refused to take money from sannyasis. The office was filled with photos and pictures of all sorts of saints, just about everyone you can imagine (even Mother Teresa and Bhaktivedanta), and a large picture of Ma, plus a smaller one of Her under the glass on his desk. These people do not appear to be sectarian. They have some kind of brahmachari program there (young boys), and do seva of all different sorts.

Because we had to rush back to Belur for a final interview with the General Secretary, we weren’t able to stop by Yogoda Satsanga. Next time. Then lunch, packing, and a fifteen-minute tour of the museum. They are very proud of this, and we saw why. It is very well done by any standards, and must look like Swarg Lok44 to Indians. It’s filled with relics, including the pot that contained Sri Ramakrishna’s ashes. To do it justice you have to spend one to two hours there. The surprise was how we felt afterwards. It wasn’t a shrine and it didn’t evoke devotion, but there was a real blessing and when you left you weren’t the same person who entered.

After Calcutta bid us adieu by blowing its final dose of pollution into our lungs on the way to the airport, we had fun with Indian Airlines. A large marquee at the airport lists all the sixty items you can’t take on the plane. They felt the boarding Indians should know not to carry onto the plane spear guns, ski poles, portable handsaws, pickles and spices, chili powder, starting pistols, blasting caps, a bow and arrow, golf clubs and more. I was watching for the disappointed faces of those Indians who wanted to bring their spear guns and handsaws to their plane seats. It must have really cramped their style!

The in-flight muzak was an endless repetition of fifties-style big band renditions of Auld Lang Syne, Lullaby of Broadway, and other Bharat favorites. The snacks were pieces of hard candy and some limp-looking orange drink, although they made up for this later with a pretty good Indian veg meal. Plus we talked with some other passengers about the Himalayas and other holy places of India. So a good time was had by all.

February 7, 2003

While I stood outside the STD shop in Tiruvanammalai I was approached by several sannyasis/beggars. In some cases it’s hard to tell which they really are, and many people take to wearing gerua45 as an easy means to a free lunch. Mangalananda says he’s found that the real sadhus usually don’t ask for money.

I passed some rupee coins around, and then went over to a white-bearded sannyasi who had been sitting on the ground for some time outside the temple across the street. I figured he should be included. When I squatted down and handed him the rupees, he took them, looked inquiringly at them and me, and gave them back to me, with an expression that said something like “What have I got to do with this stuff?” I tried to touch his feet but he stopped me, as frequently happens when we as sannyasis try to venerate other sannyasis. He told me his name was Jayramalingam, and he blessed me with some vibhuti46 and special prayers, as he did to the other two when I brought them over. There are treasures like this everywhere, and they are unassuming and hidden.

We met a sadhu named Swami Ramanananda, at whose house we had satsang and lunch. We began our conversation with serious subjects, mostly meditation, and eventually came around to Swamiji’s personal history. He is about sixty, and was born in Burma in a Tamil family, went to school in Calcutta and later at the Theosophical high school in Adyar, and spent years as a high-powered engineer doing all sorts of big projects for the government. He was fortunate to get great spiritual encouragement from a very old woman disciple of Trailanga Swami (I think she was about 113).

In his grandmother’s house there was a cobra that became very friendly with the family, whom she named Shesha, a name which he would respond to when called. He became one of the family pets; their dog even drank out of the same bowl of milk as Shesha,48 at the same time. Shesha was completely comfortable with them. One morning when they woke up they found his shed skin on the floor between them, meaning he was lying there between them as they slept.

The end of his story is sad. Grandma wanted to give a special birthday celebration for him, so she arranged special food and even invited some guests. She told Shesha to hide himself, as he usually did when guests came over. Unfortunately he chose to hide near an underground pot, in which water was later heated. They smelled a strange burning odor at the time but did not connect it to him. After some days of his unexplained absence, Grandma had a dream of Shesha in flames, and she understood that burning smell had been him. In remorse she made the vow that in each generation of her family there would be one child named Shesha.

One time Swamiji decided to “test” Arunachala Shiva. He told the Lord, “I am going to walk here on the mountain with my eyes closed and rely on You to lead me.” As he slowly walked on he got the intuitive message to move off to the right, then later back to the left. For some reason I can’t recall he opened his eyes, looked back, and discovered that the Lord had just walked him around a huge cobra stretched out asleep on the ground!

After the temple services on Wednesday evening we spent some time talking with David Godman. He’s lived in India for about twenty-seven years, only being outside of India for a total of fifteen months on three trips. The first thing we asked him about was his experiences with Annamalai Swami.

Annamalai Swami was a no-nonsense person and not at all a public figure. You could just as easily find him out chopping wood as in his ashram hall. If you approached him he would urge you to get to the point, answer your question, and send you on your way, rather than sitting around staring at him. Godman had a friend approach Swamiji about writing his biography, and at first he was dead against it because of the lingering bad taste of an inaccurate biography that had been written in the 1950’s. Godman’s advocate mentioned he (David) had already written a book on Bhagavan’s teachings and knew them well. To test this, Swamiji made this man sit with him for an hour every day for three weeks, translating out loud Godman’s book from English to Tamil, and was only satisfied after he heard two hundred pages.

When Godman interviewed him, he would usually be sitting crouched over in a fetal-like position, and then as he warmed up to the subject and to Godman’s genuine interest, he would literally unwind and blossom and eventually become very enthusiastic and animated. In general, he was apparently a very sober, circumspect man. He only agreed to the book on the condition that the book be printed after his death, so he wouldn’t get stuck with all the “seekers” who would come to him after reading the book. Ramanashram wanted to have some parts of the book expunged (i.e., about Chinnaswami, their ancestor), and Swamiji agreed to a few things but refused to delete others. Near the end of his life he did relent about public access to himself, and we have some of his words in Godman’s new book Final Talks.

Godman is an interesting person. His practice and interest in self-inquiry seems to be genuine, constant, and no nonsense. He gave some interesting explanations about the technique. He is a very valuable person to know when asking about practical questions about living in India, and especially life in Tiru.

Sometimes in India God gives you what you want even if you don’t think to ask or look for it. Last night shortly after leaving our room, Mangalananda quickly returned with the news that there was a great nadaswaram49 and drum group playing at a wedding in the courtyard of the Seshadri Swami dharmashala50 where he was staying. It was late, but I couldn’t pass this up and we got some of this on video tape. These guys were fantastic, the real thing and then some. India, India.

February 7, 2003

This afternoon on our way down from meditating on Arunachala we met Swami Balakrishnananda, who seems very nice and will be going with us tomorrow morning on the inner pradakshina trail around Arunachala. He’s been living in Tiru for two years, and when we asked him how he likes living here, he said “Something is happening here.” Sounds right to us.

We’ve just returned from our second giri pradakshina (Sadasivananda’s first), this time accompanied by Swami Balakrishnananda, a Tamil who is on his own, living in Tiru and spending most of his time in sadhana. Swamiji is very intelligent and worthwhile to be with.

Having now spent three weeks in India, the Ramakrishna Mission monks look better by the day, which has lead to an increasing respect for and friendship with them. Swami Balakrishnananda calls the Madras math a second Belur.

Swami Ramanananda says that if we spend Shivaratri51 on the mountain, we should tap our walking sticks as we go to warn the cobras of our presence, as nighttime is cobra time!

Now that we’ve managed to find some good sadhus here, our South Indian trip has improved. After a full week here, Tiru and South India have begun to sink in a little more. There’s no doubt that the land and the people are quite different from Bengal. All this just takes some getting used to. Tiru is beginning to grow on us and we are finding aspects of life here that we do like very much.

Arunachala, the mountain itself, is the most important thing here, in a way even more important than Bhagavan, so it seems to us. Being here it almost seems that if there was any mission that Bhagavan had (which as a jnani I’m sure he didn’t) it was to point people to Arunachala–maybe even more so than to self-inquiry. So meditation on the mountain now attracts us more than meditation at Ramanashram–which is another subject itself. Arunachala works slowly and in some hidden ways.

Two days ago Tarakananda and I went to the top of Arunachala with Mangalananda (Sadasivananda was still recuperating). The climb was much less arduous than we had been led to expect. There were some pretty steep parts, but it was much easier than the higher peaks in the Borrego Valley. It took us two hours to get to the top, where there is a small plateau and then the last small peak, where the annual fire is lit and where Narayan Swami and his disciples live. When we arrived we discovered that today’s darshan would be three hours later, so the three of us meditated on and around the topmost boulder.

Then it came time for darshan. Narayan Swami has been living on the peak for thirteen years, and just recently broke the silence he’s been keeping all those years. He lives in a small open hut that is just a wooden frame with chicken wire and plastic tarps stretched over it, with another three-sided hut next to it for preparing offerings and a tarp-covered portico joining the two. Let’s just call it primitive.

At the beginning of the darshan we were lined up sitting in the dirt incline to his hut, along with a few Indians and two Westerners. Holy teatime began with the passing out of teacups–small coconut half-shells encrusted with dirt and peculiar stains both within and without, which after use are stored unwashed in the same gunny sack they crawled out of. The servers specifically cautioned us not to wipe out the bowls of the cups. As we waited, a gray monkey jumped into the branches above us, not far from where today’s newspaper had been wedged in the branches. A young Indian tried to get the monkey to leave by shaking the slender trunk of the tree, but the monkey was nonplussed and nonchalantly urinated on this young man directly below him. Yes, a good time was had by all.

Soon it was time for the preparation of The Brew. Out of sight just around the corner in his three-sided hut, the swami chanted several verses, which his disciples repeated a line at a time, all the while stirring a small earthen pot full of greasy liquid resembling chai mixed with dishwater that had then been left to ferment in a convenient pothole in the road. When the chanting was finished we were given our cups of Brew, which turned out to be high in minerals–i.e., dirt or sand, with mysterious black flecks floating on a glistening surface. This process was repeated three more times. Around this time Mangalananda leaned over and whispered to me: “Now this is India in the raw.”

Then we lined up outside the second hut and were given a Shiva chant to repeat as we did parikrama52 several times around the hut, passing by the yogi each time. Before this began, however, we were witness to the day’s chapter of faults.53 A young disciple knelt in the mud before Narayan Swami, and he repeatedly whacked the heck out of him with his stick, lashing him with his tongue all the while. Naturally this kindled our enthusiasm to come bow before Narayan Swami!

After the parikrama our offerings were officially presented, there were a few more rounds of Brew prasad that used our offerings, this time of a milky dishwater variety. A monkey snatched the paper from the tree and ran off to catch up on the news, and then it was time to bow before Narayan Swami. He wears a special visor consisting of newspaper on a frame (I won’t even try to describe it further), so you can see the bottom half of his face but not his eyes, which are only seen by his disciples. None of us, including Mangalananda, experienced what he described in his first visit (a change of consciousness just by the sight of the yogi’s form). However, after we were sent on our way down the mountain we could all feel we had received a blessing, although it was kind of negligible.

On the way down the mountainside we found the cave which Mangalananda described in his first email about Arunachala. Since then both Haridas and we had found it. It was a very, very good place in which to meditate, which we did for about an hour. It was even better meditating here than in the open air at the top of Arunachala, where you can hear the constant noise of the surrounding towns: bhajans on loud speakers (several at a time), car, rickshaw, and truck horns honking, a drum corps drill punctuated by the rifle shots of the rifle corps, and more. Sad to say, you hear such noise almost anywhere on Arunachala, and it really is much, much quieter in Borrego.

This is even worse in the rooms that we have at the Ramanashram guest compound, which is across the street from the main ashram grounds. Tiru is a truck route, and throughout the night you hear roaring carriage trucks braying their horns as they pass each other. It’s like living next to a train station. We have asked Mr. Ramanan for a room on the ashram grounds and hope that something will open up soon, and if this doesn’t come through in the next few days we are moving somewhere else. This trip we have discovered that noise, litter, and pollution are now the universal features of the face of modern India, wherever you go, even on the holy peak of Arunachala.

February 10th, 2003

Today we were given a personal tour of the Arunachaleshwar Temple by none other then “Cobra Swami,” complete with a running commentary on the spiritual significance of every aspect of the “spiritual world” contained within. We arrived at the South Gate by motor rickshaw, he by motorcycle (quite a sight).

The first thing we did as we entered was arrange to fed the temple elephant as well as all of the temple cows. The elephant really likes a special type of grass and we arranged for an entire day’s ration to be of this delicacy . Since we and the elephant were just both headed for the inner shrine area (we to receive the Lord’s Blessing, and she to give it), the special feeding will occur this evening.

The feeding of the cows happened at the end of the temple visit. We were all given many bundles of another specially cut type of greens and we wandered into the cow’s courtyard with our gifts. As soon as the cows saw us it was Christmas in February. We all commented afterwards that this event was a very special blessing for us. I have filmed the feeding/blessing and a lot of the Swami’s commentary on video, and it all was truly amazing.

The builders of Chartes Cathedral were playing with matchsticks compared with the divine architecture and the consciousness transformation one experiences when moving through this “Home of the Lord.” And just think: the ordinary Indians come here daily, and it is all as natural to them as walking out into the street to buy a masala dosa. I soon discovered that our “guide” was not just anybody, because he glided (with us little chicks following) around all the crowds and lines of people waiting for darshan, right into the main holy places with all of the gates being opened before him by the priests who pranamed as he entered. We had learned earlier that he was responsible for organizing the restoration of all the old temples along the Arunachala parikrama road. He also lived with Major Chadwick and spent a lot of time with Anammalai Swami–we plan to mine deep to have him recall the treasures of those times.

I am sure that we will be able to relive the day’s temple darshan when we return because we have most of it on video. Somehow even inside the main shrines, the camera–though inside the shoulder bag (no camera’s are allowed in many of South India’s big temples), managed to “ stay on” and thus there exists some secret footage. The priest of the Parvati shrine saw the lens sticking out of a hole in the bag and my heart skipped a beat, but Cobraji said three words with a sideways tilt of the head, and calm ensued (though I would have felt safer if I had been wearing that diaper)!

Tomorrow at dawn we will start the outer giri parikrama with plans to stop at each of the eight Linga54 Temples and offer ghee55 to burn in the lamps before Shiva. One of our first stops on the parikrama tomorrow will be a visit to “Cobra Swami’s “ ashram. By the way, did we tell you that he lives in the best of all spots around the Hill, right next to the Varuna Lingam Temple that he had remodeled. He also is seen “scooting” over to the Ramana Supermarket for afternoon snacks and the occasional newspaper. He is one of those rare sadhus that, while not deep in meditation, has cultivated the ability to really enjoy himself and have fun while selflessly inquiring into the Self.

February 11, 2003

Yesterday evening we spent many hours with Swami Satyananda. We first spotted her at one of the two Western-food restaurants and somehow got the idea she was French or Belgian. She is American, although you’d never guess it from the strange accent she has, a product of several decades in India (we met another American who talked in the same funny way). She appears to be a sweet, mild, and sensible older woman, with nothing special to say. Appearances are deceiving.

Since the age of seven she had a desire to live for God alone and during her whole life in America she felt like a foreigner among strangers, only recognizing her real home as her plane was preparing to land in India (sound familiar?). She not only met but had a lot of personal contact and advice from many well-known saints: Mother Krishnabai, Satya Sai Baba, Annamalai Swami, and Yogi Ram Surath Kumar, whom she considers her guru. Having a great inner urge to take sannyas, she took shukla sannyas and dressed and lived in the traditional sannyasi way, relying on God alone. Sometimes she’d get bhiksha from ashrams, other times she’d just sing in the streets and someone would invite her to their house.

We asked her to sing, and she sang a nice bhajan about the guru as mother, father, friend, and God. When we opened our eyes at the end of the bhajan we saw her popping a many-toothed bridge back into her mouth, which only boasted about four teeth! She laughed and said that whenever she had an abscessed tooth she had had it extracted–not quite the American approach to feminine beauty.

At our polite inquiry she told us she was fifty-nine, and she doesn’t look too bad for a woman of that age with twenty-some years of some pretty rough India life behind her. She said she used to look older. Once when she was living in a Shiva temple in the jungle, some local old men who could speak a little English used to bring her bhiksha and talk a little with her. When they asked her age and she told them she was forty-five, they all laughed in disbelief and one said, “Oh Ma, you don’t have to pretend with us. I’m in my seventies and I admit it, and I know you’re as old as I am.”

She spent some time with Annamalai Swami, and she said there was always a tangible strong presence of silence around him, whether he was sitting in satsang, walking, chopping wood, or even sleeping. When he talked about Bhagavan he would light up and be joyful and enthusiastic, like a boy.

Today Swami Balakrishnananda gave us a wonderful, simple lunch in his very small kutir, served on banana leaf plates as we sat together on the floor in front of his shrine to Thakur, Sri Ma, and Vivekananda. He is one of those swamis who lives and breathes those truths of Sanatana Dharma and Sri Ramakrishna that we’ve all heard a thousand times, but coming from his mouth it is the living truth. A few days before he met us several people told him that they had seen American sannyasis from Ramakrishna Mission in town, meaning us. He confirmed what Swami Satyananda told us last night: the people of South India not only do not have the regard for sadhus that the North does, in some areas they are actually anti-sannyasi. Tomorrow Swamiji will take us to the Yogi Ram Surath Kumar Ashram to meet the Yogi’s successor, a woman named Ma Devaki who used to teach physics at Sarada College. Yogi Ram Surath Kumar lived a wanderer’s life and was initiated into Ram Nam by Papa Ramdas.

Mangalananda told us about an enthusiastic, slightly simple, young pujari at Omkareshwar who was made a naishtika brahmachari during Swami Bhaskarananda’s recent visit. He was overjoyed to take this step and receive his holy clothes. After some days the ashramites noticed that his skin was starting to turn yellow. It turned out that he was so enthusiastic about the yellow color of his new stage of the renunciate’s life, he was not only dying his clothes but also his skin! Mangalananda clued him in on why not to do this. I guess that’s one way of immersing yourself in the spirit of renunciation!

More India Pilgrimage Letters:

• Monks' Letters Set #1 – Bengal (Belur Math, Dakshineshwar, Jayrambati, and Kamarpukur, etc.); Tamil Nadu (Tiruvannamalai, Arunachala, and Ramanashram)
• Monks' Letters Set #2 – Tamil Nadu (Tiruvannamalai, Arunachala, and Ramanashram; Sri Rangam, Chidambaram, Tanjavur, Chennai), and the foothills of the Himalayas (Hardwar, Kankhal, Rishikesh, Dehradhun, Vashishta Guha).

2) The monastic guesthouse at Belur Math, the international headquarters of Ramakrishna Mission (called Vedanta Society in the West) in Calcutta. [Go back]

3) Head of the Vedanta Society of Southern California. [Go back]

4) The monk in charge of the San Diego Vedanta Society. [Go back]

5) The house in which Sri Ramakrishna left his body. [Go back]

6) The temple where Sri Ramakrishna lived most of his life. [Go back]

7) Bharat is the proper Sanskrit name for India. [Go back]

8) A ceremony of worship in which lights, incense, camphor, and other offerings representing the five elements and the five senses–the totality of the human being–are waved before an image or symbol of the Divine. [Go back]

9) Sri Ma Sarada Devi, the wife of Sri Ramakrishna. [Go back]

10) A term coined by Sri Ramana Maharshi for his brother, meaning something like “general manager” or “works manager.” [Go back]

11) Birthday [Go back]

12) Tilak: A sacred mark made on the forehead or between the eyebrows denoting what form of God the person worships. [Go back]

13) A raki is a (usually) red string tied around the right wrist–usually by a priest in a temple or holy place–as mantras are recited for blessing and protection. [Go back]

14) In these letters, a simple reference to “Mother” or “Ma” means Sri Anandamayi Ma, whom the writers had met. [Go back]

15) Darshan: Literally “sight” or “seeing.” Darshan is the seeing of a holy being as well as the blessing received by seeing such a one. [Go back]

16) A temple music tower. Musicians sit on the upper storey and play during festivals and sometimes at the time of daily worship. Holy Mother Sarada Devi lived in the northern nahabat of the Dakshineshwar Kali Temple. [Go back]

17) Prasad: Food that has been first offered in worship or to a saint, or that which is given by a saint. [Go back]

18) Mahendranath Gupta, author of The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, is usually referred to as “M.” [Go back]

19) Strength; power; energy. [Go back]

20) Grihasta: A married “householder.” [Go back]

21) Puja: Ritual worship, usually involving the image of a deity. [Go back]

22) Image [Go back]

23) Shanti: Peace; calm; tranquility; contentment. [Go back]

24) Mangala: Auspicious. [Go back]

25) Om [Go back]

26) Sri Ramakrishna was called Gadadhara as a child, or “Gadai” for short. [Go back]

27) Natural, spontaneous. [Go back]

28) Tea [Go back]

29) The place where Swami Vivekananda and the other monastic disciples of Sri Ramakrishna formally took sannyas. [Go back]

30) Tiruvanammali [Go back]

31) Elephant [Go back]

32) The future–tenth–incarnation (avatar) of Vishnu. [Go back]

33) Food [Go back]

34) Silence [Go back]

35) Spiritual practice [Go back]

36) Pot; water vessel. In Hindu practice, in the absence of an image a deity is invoked into the water within a pot (kumbha) and worshipped. Usually the deity is then dismissed and the water poured out is an appropriate place, but in this instance the kumbha has been kept for perpetual worship in that form. [Go back]

37) Mountain [Go back]

38) This is a phrase from a hymn by Ramprasad referring to how a black bee on the black feet of Kali becomes indistinguishable from Her. [Go back]

39) Spiritual instruction [Go back]

40) “White sannyasa.” The adoption of monastic life spontaneously, solely from a profound urge from within, without any formal external ritual or conferring of sannyasa by another person. [Go back]

41) “Kalpataru Day” was the day on which, shortly before his passing from this world, Sri Ramakrishna came down into the garden of the Cossipore house and conferred liberation and the vision of God on many of his disciples by a mere touch. This is commemorated annually at Cossipore. [Go back]

42) “The wish-fulfilling tree.” The celestial tree of Hindu mythology, which grants all that a person standing or sitting under it desires. [Go back]

43) Consciousness [Go back]

44) The Heaven World. [Go back]

45) The brownish-orange mud used to dye the clothng of Hindu monastics; the color produced by dyeing with gerua is also called gerua. [Go back]

46) Sacred ash from a fire sacrifice. [Go back]

47) Psychic power. [Go back]

48) The name of the snake (naga) upon which Vishnu reclines. [Go back]

49) An oboe-like Indian wind instrument. [Go back]

50) A place for pilgrims to stay, either free of charge or at a minimal cost. [Go back]

51) Mahashivaratri: “The Great Night of Shiva.” The major, night-long festival of the worship of Shiva that occurs on the fourteenth day of the dark half of the lunar month known as Phalguna (usually in February, but every third year when an extra month is added to the lunar calendar, it may occur in March). [Go back]

52) Circumambulation; “to traverse around.” It is the custom in India to circumambulate sacred objects and places, always moving clockwise so the sacred thing or place is to the right of the devotee. [Go back]

53) The “Chapter of Faults” was a Western monastic custom, a daily session in which discipline was meted out to those who had committed faults of various kinds. [Go back]

54) “Linga” means mark, sign, or symbol, and is usually a reference to a column-like or egg-shaped symbol of Shiva. [Go back]

55) Clarified butter. [Go back]