Autobiography of a Yogi Part 23
Whether Master and I were surrounded by his students or by strangers, or were alone together, he always spoke plainly and upbraided sharply. No trifling lapse into shallowness or inconsistency escaped his rebuke. This flattening treatment was hard to endure, but my resolve was to allow Sri Yukteswar to iron out each of my psychological kinks. As he labored at this t.i.tanic transformation, I shook many times under the weight of his disciplinary hammer.
"If you don't like my words, you are at liberty to leave at any time," Master a.s.sured me. "I want nothing from you but your own improvement. Stay only if you feel benefited."
For every humbling blow he dealt my vanity, for every tooth in my metaphorical jaw he knocked loose with stunning aim, I am grateful beyond any facility of expression. The hard core of human egotism is hardly to be dislodged except rudely. With its departure, the Divine finds at last an un.o.bstructed channel. In vain It seeks to percolate through flinty hearts of selfishness.
Sri Yukteswar's wisdom was so penetrating that, heedless of remarks, he often replied to one's unspoken observation. "What a person imagines he hears, and what the speaker has really implied, may be poles apart," he said. "Try to feel the thoughts behind the confusion of men's verbiage."
But divine insight is painful to worldly ears; Master was not popular with superficial students. The wise, always few in number, deeply revered him. I daresay Sri Yukteswar would have been the most soughtafter guru in India had his words not been so candid and so censorious.
"I am hard on those who come for my training," he admitted to me.
"That is my way; take it or leave it. I will never compromise. But you will be much kinder to your disciples; that is your way. I try to purify only in the fires of severity, searing beyond the average toleration. The gentle approach of love is also transfiguring. The inflexible and the yielding methods are equally effective if applied with wisdom. You will go to foreign lands, where blunt a.s.saults on the ego are not appreciated. A teacher could not spread India's message in the West without an ample fund of accommodative patience and forbearance." I refuse to state the amount of truth I later came to find in Master's words!
Though Sri Yukteswar's undissembling speech prevented a large following during his years on earth, nevertheless his living spirit manifests today over the world, through sincere students of his KRIYA YOGA and other teachings. He has further dominion in men's souls than ever Alexander dreamed of in the soil.
Father arrived one day to pay his respects to Sri Yukteswar. My parent expected, very likely, to hear some words in my praise. He was shocked to be given a long account of my imperfections. It was Master's practice to recount simple, negligible shortcomings with an air of portentous gravity. Father rushed to see me. "From your guru's remarks I thought to find you a complete wreck!" My parent was between tears and laughter.
The only cause of Sri Yukteswar's displeasure at the time was that I had been trying, against his gentle hint, to convert a certain man to the spiritual path.
With indignant speed I sought out my guru. He received me with downcast eyes, as though conscious of guilt. It was the only time I ever saw the divine lion meek before me. The unique moment was savored to the full.
"Sir, why did you judge me so mercilessly before my astounded father? Was that just?"
"I will not do it again." Master's tone was apologetic.
Instantly I was disarmed. How readily the great man admitted his fault! Though he never again upset Father's peace of mind, Master relentlessly continued to dissect me whenever and wherever he chose.
New disciples often joined Sri Yukteswar in exhaustive criticism of others. Wise like the guru! Models of flawless discrimination!
But he who takes the offensive must not be defenseless. The same carping students fled precipitantly as soon as Master publicly unloosed in their direction a few shafts from his a.n.a.lytical quiver.
"Tender inner weaknesses, revolting at mild touches of censure, are like diseased parts of the body, recoiling before even delicate handling." This was Sri Yukteswar's amused comment on the flighty ones.
There are disciples who seek a guru made in their own image. Such students often complained that they did not understand Sri Yukteswar.
"Neither do you comprehend G.o.d!" I retorted on one occasion. "When a saint is clear to you, you will be one." Among the trillion mysteries, breathing every second the inexplicable air, who may venture to ask that the fathomless nature of a master be instantly grasped?
Students came, and generally went. Those who craved a path of oily sympathy and comfortable recognitions did not find it at the hermitage. Master offered shelter and shepherding for the aeons, but many disciples miserly demanded ego-balm as well. They departed, preferring life's countless humiliations before any humility.
Master's blazing rays, the open penetrating sunshine of his wisdom, were too powerful for their spiritual sickness. They sought some lesser teacher who, shading them with flattery, permitted the fitful sleep of ignorance.
During my early months with Master, I had experienced a sensitive fear of his reprimands. These were reserved, I soon saw, for disciples who had asked for his verbal vivisection. If any writhing student made a protest, Sri Yukteswar would become unoffendedly silent.
His words were never wrathful, but impersonal with wisdom.
Master's insight was not for the unprepared ears of casual visitors; he seldom remarked on their defects, even if conspicuous. But toward students who sought his counsel, Sri Yukteswar felt a serious responsibility. Brave indeed is the guru who undertakes to transform the crude ore of ego-permeated humanity! A saint's courage roots in his compa.s.sion for the stumbling eyeless of this world.
When I had abandoned underlying resentment, I found a marked decrease in my chastis.e.m.e.nt. In a very subtle way, Master melted into comparative clemency. In time I demolished every wall of rationalization and subconscious reservation behind which the human personality generally shields itself. {FN12-17} The reward was an effortless harmony with my guru. I discovered him then to be trusting, considerate, and silently loving. Undemonstrative, however, he bestowed no word of affection.
My own temperament is princ.i.p.ally devotional. It was disconcerting at first to find that my guru, saturated with JNANA but seemingly dry of BHAKTI, {FN12-18} expressed himself only in terms of cold spiritual mathematics. But as I tuned myself to his nature, I discovered no diminution but rather increase in my devotional approach to G.o.d. A self-realized master is fully able to guide his various disciples along natural lines of their essential bias.
My relationship with Sri Yukteswar, somewhat inarticulate, nonetheless possessed all eloquence. Often I found his silent signature on my thoughts, rendering speech inutile. Quietly sitting beside him, I felt his bounty pouring peacefully over my being.
Sri Yukteswar's impartial justice was notably demonstrated during the summer vacation of my first college year. I welcomed the opportunity to spend uninterrupted months at Serampore with my guru.
"You may be in charge of the hermitage." Master was pleased over my enthusiastic arrival. "Your duties will be the reception of guests, and supervision of the work of the other disciples."
k.u.mar, a young villager from east Bengal, was accepted a fortnight later for hermitage training. Remarkably intelligent, he quickly won Sri Yukteswar's affection. For some unfathomable reason, Master was very lenient to the new resident.
"Mukunda, let k.u.mar a.s.sume your duties. Employ your own time in sweeping and cooking." Master issued these instructions after the new boy had been with us for a month.
Exalted to leadership, k.u.mar exercised a petty household tyranny.
In silent mutiny, the other disciples continued to seek me out for daily counsel.
"Mukunda is impossible! You made me supervisor, yet the others go to him and obey him." Three weeks later k.u.mar was complaining to our guru. I overheard him from an adjoining room.
"That's why I a.s.signed him to the kitchen and you to the parlor."
Sri Yukteswar's withering tones were new to k.u.mar. "In this way you have come to realize that a worthy leader has the desire to serve, and not to dominate. You wanted Mukunda's position, but could not maintain it by merit. Return now to your earlier work as cook's a.s.sistant."
After this humbling incident, Master resumed toward k.u.mar a former att.i.tude of unwonted indulgence. Who can solve the mystery of attraction? In k.u.mar our guru discovered a charming fount which did not spurt for the fellow disciples. Though the new boy was obviously Sri Yukteswar's favorite, I felt no dismay. Personal idiosyncrasies, possessed even by masters, lend a rich complexity to the pattern of life. My nature is seldom commandeered by a detail; I was seeking from Sri Yukteswar a more inaccessible benefit than an outward praise.
k.u.mar spoke venomously to me one day without reason; I was deeply hurt.
"Your head is swelling to the bursting point!" I added a warning whose truth I felt intuitively: "Unless you mend your ways, someday you will be asked to leave this ashram."
Laughing sarcastically, k.u.mar repeated my remark to our guru, who had just entered the room. Fully expecting to be scolded, I retired meekly to a corner.
"Maybe Mukunda is right." Master's reply to the boy came with unusual coldness. I escaped without castigation.
A year later, k.u.mar set out for a visit to his childhood home.
He ignored the quiet disapproval of Sri Yukteswar, who never authoritatively controlled his disciples' movements. On the boy's return to Serampore in a few months, a change was unpleasantly apparent. Gone was the stately k.u.mar with serenely glowing face.
Only an undistinguished peasant stood before us, one who had lately acquired a number of evil habits.
Master summoned me and brokenheartedly discussed the fact that the boy was now unsuited to the monastic hermitage life.
"Mukunda, I will leave it to you to instruct k.u.mar to leave the ashram tomorrow; I can't do it!" Tears stood in Sri Yukteswar's eyes, but he controlled himself quickly. "The boy would never have fallen to these depths had he listened to me and not gone away to mix with undesirable companions. He has rejected my protection; the callous world must be his guru still."
k.u.mar's departure brought me no elation; sadly I wondered how one with power to win a master's love could ever respond to cheaper allures. Enjoyment of wine and s.e.x are rooted in the natural man, and require no delicacies of perception for their appreciation.
Sense wiles are comparable to the evergreen oleander, fragrant with its multicolored flowers: every part of the plant is poisonous. The land of healing lies within, radiant with that happiness blindly sought in a thousand misdirections. {FN12-19}
"Keen intelligence is two-edged," Master once remarked in reference to k.u.mar's brilliant mind. "It may be used constructively or destructively like a knife, either to cut the boil of ignorance, or to decapitate one's self. Intelligence is rightly guided only after the mind has acknowledged the inescapability of spiritual law."
My guru mixed freely with men and women disciples, treating all as his children. Perceiving their soul equality, he showed no distinction or partiality.
"In sleep, you do not know whether you are a man or a woman," he said. "Just as a man, impersonating a woman, does not become one, so the soul, impersonating both man and woman, has no s.e.x. The soul is the pure, changeless image of G.o.d."
Sri Yukteswar never avoided or blamed women as objects of seduction.
Men, he said, were also a temptation to women. I once inquired of my guru why a great ancient saint had called women "the door to h.e.l.l."
"A girl must have proved very troublesome to his peace of mind in his early life," my guru answered causticly. "Otherwise he would have denounced, not woman, but some imperfection in his own self-control."
If a visitor dared to relate a suggestive story in the hermitage, Master would maintain an unresponsive silence. "Do not allow yourself to be thrashed by the provoking whip of a beautiful face," he told the disciples. "How can sense slaves enjoy the world? Its subtle flavors escape them while they grovel in primal mud. All nice discriminations are lost to the man of elemental l.u.s.ts."