REALISATION OF THE DIVINE

A Certain devout lady, who was also a faithful wife, lived with her husband, serving him and their children with a loving heart, and at the same time keeping her mind fixed on the Lord. At her husband s death, as soon as the cremation was over, she broke her glass bangles and wore a pair of gold bracelets in their place. People wondered at her unnatural conduct, but she explained to them, " Hitherto my husband's body was fragile like the glass bangles. That ephemeral body is now gone, and he is therefore like one unchangeable and whole in every respect. His body is no longer fragile. So I have discarded the fragile glass bangles and put on ornaments of a permanent nature."

Once there came to Dakshineswar two Sadhus who were father and son. The son had attained true Knowledge, but the father had not Both were sitting in the room where Sri Ramakrishna lived and were talking with him. In the meantime, a young cobra came out of a rat-hole and bit the son. Seeing that, the father was terribly frightened and began to call all the people around. But the son sat quiet, and that puzzled the father still more. When he asked the son why he was sitting quiet, the son laughed and was heard to explain, M Which is the# snake and whom has it bitten ? " He had realised the Unity, and hence he could not make any distinction between a man and a snake.

An outcaste was carrying baskets of meat from a slaughter-house. On the way he met Sankaracharya who was returning after his bath in the sacred Ganges. It chanced that the outcaste touched the person of the holy man. Sankara was offended and cried out, " You have touched me, sirrah!" The outcaste replied, " Sir, neither have I touched you, nor have you touched me! Please reason with me and say whether your true Self is the body or the mind or the intellect; tell me what you truly are. You know that the true Self is not attached to any of the three Gunas of Nature, Sattva, Rajas and Tamas." Then Sankara was abashed and had the true awakening.

Once a Sadhu placed his disciple in a magnificent garden with the intention of imparting to him the knowledge of the real Self and went away. After a few days he came back and asked the disciple, " Do you feel any want, my boy ? " On being answered in the affirmative, he left with him a fair woman named Shyama, and advised him to take fish and meat freely. After a considerable time he came again and asked the same question as before. This time the disciple replied, " No, I have no want, thank you. The Sadhu then called both the disciple and Shyama to him and pointing to Shyama s hands, asked the disciple, " Can you tell me what these are? " " Why, these are Shyama" s hands, replied the disciple. He put the same question several times, pointing to Shyama s eyes, nose and other parts of the body, and the disciple gave appropriate answers. Presently the idea struck the disciple, " I am talking of everything as Shyama's 'this' and Shyama's 4 that . What then is this Shyama? Bewildered, he asked his Guru the question, " But who is this Shyama to whom belong these eyes, ears and the rest? The Sadhu said, If you wish to know who this Shyama is, come with me, and I will enlighten you. So saying, he revealed to him the secret.

A certain father had two sons. When they were old enough, they were admitted to the first stage of life (Brahmacharya), and placed under the care of a religious preceptor to study the Vedas. After a long time the boys returned home, having finished their studies. Their father asked them if they had read the Vedanta. On their replying in the affirmative, he asked, " Well, tell me what is Brahman." The elder son, qiioting the Vedas and other scriptures, replied: O Father, It is beyond words and thought. It is so and so. I know it all." And to support what he said, he again quoted Vedantic texts.

" So you have known Brahman 1" said the father, " you may go about your business." Then he asked the younger son the same question. But the boy remained silent; not a word came out of his mouth, nor did he make any attempt to speak. At this the father remarked: " Yes, my boy, you are right. Nothing can be predicated of the Absolute and the Unconditioned. No sooner do you talk of It than you state the Infinite in terms of the finite, the Absolute in terms of the relative, the Unconditioned in terms of the conditioned. Your silence is more eloquent than the recitation of a hundred verses and the quoting of a hundred authorities."

A learned Brahmin once went to a wise king and said, " I am well-versed, O king, in the holy scriptures. I intend to teach you the Bhagavata. The king, who was the wiser of the two, knew well that a man who had really studied the Bhagavata would seek to know his own Self rather than go to a king s court for wealth and honour. So the king replied, " I see, O Brahmin, that you yourself have not mastered that book thoroughly. I promise to make you my tutor, but first learn the scripture well." The Brahmin went his way, thinking, " How foolish it is of the king to say that I have not mastered the Bhagavata, seeing that I have been reading the book over and over all these years." However, he went through the book carefully once more and appeared again before the king. The king told him the same thing again and sent him away. The Brahmin was sorely vexed, but thought that there must be some meaning in the behaviour of the king. He went home, shut himself up in his room and applied himself more than ever to the study of the book. By and by hidden meanings began to flash into his mind and the vanity of running after the bubbles of riches and honour, kings and courts, wealth and fame, appeared to his unclouded vision. From that day forward he gave himself up entirely to attaining perfection by the worship of God, and never thought of returning to the king. A few years after, the king thought of the Brahmin and went to his house to see what he was doing. Seeing him, now radiant with Divine light and love, he fell upon his knees and said, ' I see that you have now realised the true meaning of the scriptures. I am ready to be your disciple if you will duly condescend to make me one."

There was a Hindu monastery in a certain village. The monks used to go out every day with begging bowls to gather food. One day, a monk, while going on his rounds, saw a Zemindar (landlord) severely beating a poor man. The holy man, being very kindhearted, entreated the Zemindar to stop beating the man. The Zemindar, blind with rage, immediately turned on the monk and vented all his anger upon him. He belaboured him so heavily that the monk fell down unconscious on the ground. Another man, seeing the condition of the monk, went to the monastery and told what had happened. His brethren ian to the spot where he was lying. They carried him to the monastery and laid him in a room; but the holy man still remained unconscious for a long time. Sorrowful and anxious, the Brothers fanned him, bathed his face with cold water, poured milk into his mouth, and did all that was possible to revive him. Gradually he regained consciousness. When he opened his eyes and looked at the monks, one of them, desiring to know whether he could recognise his friends, asked him in a loud voice, "Revered sir, do you recognise him who is feeding you with milk? " The holy man answered in a feeble voice, " Brother, he who beat me is now feeding me. One cannot realise this oneness of Spirit unless one has reached God-consciousness and has gone beyond good and evil, and virtue and vice.

Once in a certain village there lived a young man named Padmalochan, who was nicknamed as Podo by the villagers. In that village there was an old dilapidated temple. There was no sacred image of God inside the temple, and the whole building was overgrown with shrubs and trees, and formed a convenient residence for birds and bats. One evening, all of a sudden, people heard the sounds of song and conch issuing from the deserted temple. Men, women and children all ran eagerly to the place, thinking that some devotee might have newly installed an image of God, and was performing the evening service. With folded hands they all waited outside to see the image listening to the sacred sounds. But one of them, more inquisitive than the rest, had the courage to peep in through the doors. To his surprise he saw that it was Podo who was ringing the bell and blowing the conch inside. The floor of the shrine room was as dirty as before, and there was no image to worship. He then called out saying, ' O Podo, you have no image of Madhava in your temple ! And behold! you have not even taken the trouble of cleansing and purifying the temple ! Day and night the eleven bats screech there. Ah, for nothing you have raised all this clamour by the loud blowing of the conch! " So if you want to install the sacred image of God within the temple of your heart, that is, if you want to realise Him, what is the use of merely blowing your conch for nothing ?

First purify your heart. When the mind becomes pure, the Lord Himself comes and makes it His seat. No image of God can be set up in a dirty place. The eleven bats referred to above are the eleven senses (the five organs of knowledge, the five organs of action and the mind). First dive deep within your own self and get the gems lying hidden there. After that you can have everything else. First you have to enshrine Madhava in the heart; then you can have enough of lecturing and preaching.