Intimately woven into the theory and philosophy of tantra is the science of mantra, yantra and mandala. Tantra is both a philosophy and a practical science, and its sublime theories become efficacious through the use of mantra, yantra and mandala. Here we shall examine the mandala from which arose the rich art of tantric iconography, temples, art, architecture and music.

Principle of mandala: primal form

Any form which is pictorially or visually created within the consciousness of man, forms a mandala. In order to create a mandala, you have to be able to see within yourself, not in the form of thought but of vision, as clearly as you see the world with open eyes. The clearer your inner vision, the more accurate and powerful the mandala you create.

The principle of a mandala is that it lives within a circle. Thus any mandala that is visualized, has to be represented within the symmetry of a circle. This is due to the fact that the circle is considered as a primal form. Even the earth on which we live is not flat but round or elliptical. The formation of a mandala follows the same principle as that of light as expounded by science. Light waves move in a curve thus bending space and forming an arc or curvature. The circular aura is an essential factor of the mandala and this is clearly evident in all the ancient tantric mandalas existing today.

Anything can form a mandala; a tree, a house, a car, an animal, a human being- even your body is a mandala. When you are able to visualize through the ‘inner eye’, the form you see of any object is very precise, even more precise than you can see with your eyes open. You may be visualizing the same object both inside and out, but the difference is that, when you visualize an object through the higher mind you momentarily glimpse what lies behind the form. Thus you are able to perceive more than the average eye. We can see a tree, a house, an animal or a beautiful landscape and then reproduce it on canvas or paper. However, that is an insufficient mandala because we have not been able to see beyond the object We have not perceived the object on a linear dimension, or in the form of colour or sound. Therefore it cannot convey to us any meaning beyond the fact that it is what it is meant to be.

Creating a mandala: mystic vision

In order to create a mandala that has both power and force, both inner clarity and the ability to replicate the inner vision are important. Some people can clearly see inside but cannot re-create externally what they have seen. This is often what distinguishes a good artist from a bad one. Both may have the same inner vision but it differs in clarity of reproduction. A mandala is the essence of an object perceived by one who has refined his inner vision; an inner cosmic picture which is reproduced for all to see.

The mandala you create is dependent on your level of consciousness. The more evolved your consciousness, the more universal will be the mandala you create. A universal mandala is that which is created through a mind in tune with cosmic consciousness. It is therefore applicable and relevant to all mankind, whereas mandalas created by minds which are still on the individual plane, have less universal appeal and ability to invoke higher levels of consciousness in others. Moreover, certain mandalas are created by those who have transcended the material plane and have become enraptured by supra-conscious ecstasy. It is these mandalas which can evoke spiritual experience in others and it is primarily these which tantra has employed.

Every culture and civilization has its mandalas to offer us, and the quality of their creations gives us a clear idea of the level of consciousness of that society. All forms of art, sculpture and architecture are mandala creations which have been envisaged in the abyss of the mind, and then been re-created. That is why the work is so profound, and can influence so many generations so many centuries later, who stand in awe.

The difference between a mandala created by an artist and that created by a mystic is significant. An artist communicates his inner experience by translating it into a concept that is bound by time and space, because his insight is not as profound as that of a mystic. It usually conveys only his emotions and not a metaphysical truth. A mystic on the other hand, goes far beyond the limitations of the finite mind, emotions and intellect, and therefore these experiences relate more profoundly to the universal concepts of the cosmos.

Both artist and mystic explore and depict inner truths. However, an artist expels his experiences through his work of art, whereas the mystic continues to develop one experience into another, A mystic is not aiming to discover inner visions, but that which lies beyond. If an artist were to do the same he would be transformed into a mystic Therefore, all art based on divine inner experience has been able to withstand the test of time, and exist as an immortal and eternal idea.

In India, all forms of art, music and architecture are deeply influenced by the spiritual insight of its ancestral past. Classical Indian music, through its blend of melody, beat and rhythm, creates a mandala that can evoke a response in the deepest layers of consciousness. The artwork of the Ajanta and Ellora caves, the famed Khajuraho temples, the Konarak sun temple in Orissa, and millions of other such works, are in actual fact mandalas that deeply influence the consciousness of those who see them.

This influence is always very subtle yet precise. One cannot know the levels of mind that the mandala explores and influences. It is the subconscious and unconscious mind with which the mandalas converse, and thereby are able to awaken inner visions. It is through this process that the deeper layers of mind begin to manifest.

Devi and Devata: divine forces

In tantra, mandalas have also been depicted as pictorial representations of divine forces, symbolised as theriomorphic and anthropomorphic forms. Tantra asserts that these forms of divinity do not exist as objective entities any where in any part of the stratospheres, presiding over our destiny. However, it does feel the necessity of developing the idea of divinity in human form in order to make it comprehensible to the gross awareness of man.

Tantra asks how a man who is incapable of seeing within himself, can visualize or experience the formless reality. We cannot even experience or witness our own thoughts, let alone the higher reality. So the mandala forms of devis and devas developed into elaborate and visually arresting symbols, However, the grosser imagination of divinity is ultimately to be transcended and developed into the experience of formless reality.

The mandala symbology of devis and devas covers an infinite array of forms, colours and depictions. Some are ravishingly beautiful, others provocative, some kind and compassionate, others grotesque and fear-provoking; some suggest divine powers and others material gain. In each case the structure is elaborately detailed and designed to evoke a corresponding response within the consciousness of the aspirant. This symbology is based on the eternal archetypal structure of man’s collective unconscious and these mandalas draw out those archetypes as a magnet draws out iron filings from a heap of diamonds.

Concentration on a mandala awakens the deep-seated samskaras within and reveals the unknown mysteries in. the form of dreams, visions and mental action. You are not compelled to face the samskaras directly and so they do not affect your action in daily life. They are dispensed with during meditation and dream. It is a way of bypassing a terrible and fearsome enemy against which you have no defence. These mandalas which are always very aesthetic and visually arresting, and able to capture and direct the imagination, which is the subtle link to the higher mind.

Shiva-Shakti : field of power

Perhaps the most controversial mandala which tantra has defined to date is the kriya of maithuna. The kriya of maithuna forms a mandala that has corresponding yantras and mantras. The erotic sculptures of the Khajuraho temples, and other temples in Orissa, are based entirely on the tantric belief that maithuna is an act through which the divine powers can be invoked. Man represents Shiva or the positive polarity and woman represents Shakti or the negative polarity. Through their esoteric and esoteric union, they create a field of or an energy circuit which is the mandala. These works do not denote carnal passion but union on the highest esoteric level. It is parallel to the union of energy and consciousness, Shiva and Shakti.

The linga and yoni mandala is also symbolic of this higher union, and that is why this symbol has been venerated in India for centuries. The linga signifies that which is effulgent, while the yoni signifies the source. Therefore the linga should be understood as the symbol of pure consciousness and the yoni as the source of energy, which together are the twin forces behind creation. Man and woman unite on the physical plane to relive the experience of unity from which they have evolved. This unity is an internal experience, just as a spiritual experience is an internal experience, and there is nothing sinful about it. Today, however, the practice of maithuna has mostly degenerated into a mere exoteric act due to the admonitions imposed by religion.

Tantra is perhaps the only philosophy that has been bold enough to say this. Others have remained quiet about it, or exploited the idea by branding it a sin, thereby inducing a sense of guilt and depravity in man for doing it. However, guilt and shame are very hard to expel from the consciousness. They stay with a man a long time, controlling his actions, mind, personality and life. Unless man is able to break through these barriers, he cannot attain the higher experience. For that experience he will have to eradicate his guilt and shame.

Tantra holds that maithuna is not a sin but an act of worship which can help the individual transcend his lower consciousness, a concept which most people disbelieve due to their complex of guilt and shame. Thus, this knowledge was kept secret and only handed down from guru to disciple, establishing the tradition of an eternal mandala, because the guru and disciple tradition begins and ends at the same point, which signifies that it continues forever.

Tattwa Shuddhi : a glance within

The practice of Tattwa Shuddhi is also skilfully arranged as a mandala. We begin the practice at some point of evolution and travel very far into the self. After having followed the process of evolution and involution of creation, we find ourselves back at the same point, as if it were an endless circle that we had been following from birth to death to birth. When you see the reality behind your birth and existence, the desire for liberation awakens, compelling you to discover the means to free yourself from this endless cycle of cause and event.

This circular form given to the practice of tattwa Shuddhi has a deliberate pattern, a deliberate idea, and a deliberate force. That force is the secret power of the mandala, which you can only know when you pursue it, as a young man pursues his first love. The practice gives you a momentary glance into that secret power; just a flash of the eye and the experience is gone, so that often you may not even know you had it. However the effect can be felt on the subtler dimensions of your consciousness, and it is that part of you that the mandala is trying to reach.

Mantra, yantra, mandala : perfect harmony

Mantra, yantra and mandala are all a product of the profound inner vision of the yogis, rishis and seers who have enquired deeply into the nature of the cosmos. They are a product of high states of spiritual enlightenment, ecstasy and experience. In that state of mind the consciousness transcends all barriers and therefore the experience is called ‘universal’.

As long as you are bound by time and space your experiences are limited and related only to that dimension. However, when you transcend that, there is no religion, no caste, no creed and no sex, so how can the vision be limited? Moreover, in that state of mind, you are one with the whole process of Nature and can commune with Her. Then all the visions become a part of the cosmic truth and these images follow the strict codes and laws which are inherent in every process of Nature. This is evident in the tantric mantra, yantra and mandala which are all in perfect linear and geometrical harmony and balance.

In the tantric system, each mantra, yantra and mandala is calculated right down to the last detail. If it does not fulfil the exact mathematical equation which defines its balance, then it is inefficacious and incomplete. You need on]y to glance at some of these mandalas and yantras to verify their mathematical balance. In fact, that is one of the first aspects which attracts your attention.

In the tantric system, the mandala represents the visual iconographic form of a higher force, the yantra represents the abstract form of that force, and the mantra represents the subtle form. Thus each mandala has a corresponding yantra and mantra and one can be substituted for the other, according to the level of the aspirant, as they evoke the same results. However, different deities represent different levels of consciousness and are to be chosen on that basis. Yantras and mandalas must never be misunderstood as being religious, occult, mystic or mysterious symbols, but as highly charged forces of energy which can invoke the same frequency within us to expand our consciousness.

(Courtesy : Yoga Magazine, Jan,1991)

In the traditional idea of Shakti we find a blending of two elements, one empirical and the other speculative. On the empirical side the idea of Shakti is associated with cosmogony. It has been the un-contradicted experience of man from the dawn of understanding that there cannot be any origination whatsoever without the union of the two principles of Shiva and Shakti, the Male and Female aspects. The human analogy was naturally extended to the universe as a whole, and thus we came to the concept of the primordial Father and Mother.

In India, from the age of the Indus civilisation of Harappa and Mohanjoi-daro down to the present, the Father God is represented by a linga (the male symbol) and the Mother Goddess by the yoni (the female symbol). This conceptual representation of Shiva and Shakti by the linga-yoni is quite common and in many temples the two are worshipped in their symbolic form. In both Hindu and Buddhist literature the lord (male deity) is symbolically represented by a white dot (shveta bindu) thus suggesting the likeness with semen, while the devi (female deity) is symbolically represented by a red dot (rakta bindu) to suggest the analogy with menstrual blood containing the ovum.

Philosophy

From the speculative side it was observed that everything which existed, did so by virtue of its power or powers. So God who exists as the creator, preserver and destroyer of the universe must possess infinite power through which He creates, maintains and destroys. In. fact, His very being presupposes infinite power by virtue of which He himself exists. This belief is a universal one. Tantrics tend to view this power or universal energy as something like a female counterpart of the possessor of the power. Shakti, being conceived as the counterpart of the possessor (Shiva), came to be recognised as the consort of Shiva.

This is responsible for the fact that, not only in the Shakti tradition (believers in Shakti in whatever form as the supreme deity) but in almost all other traditions – the Saivas (believers in Shiva as the supreme) the Sauras (believers in the Sun), the Ganapatyas (believers in Ganesha), and the Vaishnavas (believers in Vishnu) – an important place is occupied by Shakti. There is seldom a god or demi-god for whom a consort is not conceived as an inseparable shakti.

A strong belief in this Shakti has brought about a popular synthesis among philosophies like Sankhya, Vedanta, Vaishnavism and Tantra. Sankhya speaks of ‘Purusha’ and ‘Prakriti’ as two independent and ultimate realities whose interaction is a mere attribute resulting from the contact of the two. In the Puranas and other literature. Prakriti is plainly conceived of as being the female counterpart of Purusha, and as such the two realities have been practically identified with the Shakti and Shiva of the Tantras. In a similar manner the principle of Maya (illusion) has been conceived as the Shakti of Brahman, These pairs were later viewed in the form of Vishnu and his Shakti, Lakshmi: of Sita and Ram, and later of Radha and Krishna. Thus, in popular belief, Shiva-Shakti of the Tantras, Purusha-Prakriti of Sankhya, Brahman-Maya of Vedanta, and Vishnu-Lakshmi, Sita-Ram and Radha-Krishna of Vaishnavism, all mean the same.

The philosophy of Shakti is clearly suggested by the two passages in the Brihadaranyak Upanishad (1:4, 1:3) where it is said that in the beginning was the Cosmic Being as the Atman in human form, who could never feel satisfied and content for he was all alone. So he desired a complementary aspect. His being was something like a natural point where the ultimate principles of male and female lay unified as it were in a deep embrace. He divided himself into two, male and female, which formed the first pair, and all the pairs of creation are said to be the replicas of this original pair.

These passages of the Brihadaranyak Upanishad have been used extensively in the Puranas, Tantras and later Buddhist and Vaishnava Sahajiya in which Shakti played an important part. Whatever has been created in this phenomenal process has been created from the union of the two- energy and matter, the consumer and the consumed. They represent the two aspects of the one non-dual truth, one internal and the other external; one illuminating, unchangeable and immortal and the other obstructive, gross and perishable.

Distinct mention of the various powers of God is found in the Swetaswatar Upanishad, in which it is said “‘Various powers are heard of this Brahman. It possesses power as knowledge and power as force or activity by virtue of its very nature.” (6:8). “Know Maya (the unspeakable mysterious power) as Prakriti and the possessor of the Maya as the Great Lord Maheshwara (a name of Shiva)” (4:10). “He who is one and colourless brings forth various colours through the agency of his various types of powers” (4:1), The possessor of Maya created the universe, and beings are fettered by his Maya.

Vaishnavism & Shaivism

The elaboration of this Shakti-vada is to be found in most of the Puranas, Upa-Puranas, samhitas and mainly in the Tantras, both Hindu and Buddhist. There is no systematic discussion on the philosophy of Shakti in the Puranas, even in the Markan day a Purana, which contains the Chandi, the most important text of the Mother worshippers in India; discussion on Shakti in the Puranas is sporadic and scrappy. The main discussions are found in Tantric literatures. So far as the Hindu tantras are concerned, they seem to have flourished in the two borders of India-Kashmir in the north-western border and Bengal, the easternmost province.

So far as the tantric literature of Bengal is concerned, scholars are disposed to think that none of these texts were composed earlier than the 10th century A.D. The tradition of the tantras in Kashmir seems to be earlier. The well-known Trika school of Kashmir Shaivism seems to have derived many of its ideas from the earlier tantras of Kashmir, some of which have been quoted and referred to in important texts of Shaivism. The Kashmir school of Shaivism most probably flourished between the 9th and 10th century A.D.

Some of the tantric texts must have been composed earlier but it has to be noted that some of the Samhita texts belonging to the Pancharatna school of Vaishnavism (sometimes referred to in the Trika school of Kashmir Shaivism) were composed earlier than the Shaivite texts, and the Ahirabudhya Samhita, belonging to the Pancharatna school, contains a good exposition of the philosophy of Shakti, though of course of Shakti as associated with Vishnu and not Shiva.

It has been said in this text that the ultimate being has two aspects, one of which is the inactive or negative state, where all his creative impulses lie dormant within Him, and the whole universe lies infinitely contracted in. Him as a mere possibility and potency. This negative state may be said to be a state of nothingness. Even in this state there is Shakti, but she remains perfectly absorbed in the Lord, as if in a union of deep embrace. With the urge of the first creative impulse, there comes from within the Lord, a determination (sankalpa), which results in his ‘willing’. This ‘willing’ of the Lord may be recognised as the first vibration of the Shakti – the first cosmic rhythm in the absolutely calm and quiet ocean.

When Shakti first wakes from her absorption in deep embrace, into the first vibration of activity, she acquires something like independence and tends to manifest herself in her triple functions of ‘willing’ (icchha), ‘knowing’ (jnana), and ‘activity’ (kriya), These three functions are symbolised by the inverted triangle, yantra of the Mother Goddess. Sometimes it Is held that Shakti is nothing but a figurative representation of the Lord, for the power cars never be viewed as being a separate entity from the agent that possesses the power.

The rise or awakening of Shakti therefore means the awakening of the Lord from his infinitely contracted state to the state of full-fledged ‘I-ness’. Shakti is thus the full ‘I-ness’ of the Lord. Her nature is infinite bliss. This Shakti can again be viewed in two of her aspects – the internal aspect in which she coexists with and is in the Lord (samavayini shakti), and the external aspect in which she, as Prakriti, and the repository of the three natural qualities, manifests herself as the external universe.

According to the tantric texts of Kashmir also, Shakti inheres in the Ultimate Being as a latent potency of infinite possibilities, as a seed of the future worlds, mobile and immobile. As the Ultimate Being is real and eternal, so is Shakti, who is coexistent with Him. The awakening of Shakti is something like a self-projection of the ‘I-ness’ of God which is accompanied by an internal process of self creation.

Shiva and Shakti

There are different views on the relation of Shiva and Shakti as propounded in the Puranas and Tantras. One view holds that neither Shiva nor Shakti represents the absolute truth; that the absolute reality is a State of neutrality where Shiva and Shakti remain in a state of perfect union (yamala). This is called the ‘samarasya’, where all things become one in a unity of blissful realisation. Shiva and Shakti ate two aspects of the one truth – the static and dynamic, the negative and the positive, the abstract and the concrete, the male and the female.

Another view holds Shiva as the Ultimate Being to whom Shakti eternally belongs. Nevertheless, neither Shiva nor Shakti is ‘real’ without the other. As Shakti cannot be conceived of without Shiva, so also Shiva becomes ‘shava’ (dead) without Shakti. The two are therefore eternally and inseparably connected.

A third view considers Shakti as the highest truth and Shiva as the best support for Shakti. Shakti is more important as ‘the contained’, while Shiva is the ‘container’. Shakti is the all-creating, all-preserving and all-destroying power of which Shiva is the adhara (base).

In some of the Puranas the male deity, as the Shaktimat (the possessor of Shakti) has been described as the male aspect of the Ultimate Truth which is Shakti. It is from this point of view that the Mother worshippers would give a subsidiary place to Shiva, where the Shakti as Mother is taken to be the highest object of adoration. In this, her sovereign majesty, the Goddess, is sometimes called Lalita Devi from whom the male deity proceeds as a transformation of her own self. Apart from this conception of the Goddess, Lalita often stands as the general Mother Goddess of India. She is called Tripurasundari in the Tantras.

Puranas: Chandi Saptashati

Shakti as the Great Mother and highest truth has found an elaborate exposition in the Devi Mahatmya, (Glory of the Goddess) of the Markandeya Purana, and this portion of the Purana, comprising thirteen chapters, is regarded as the most sacred text of Mother worshippers and is known as Chandi or Durga Saptashati. Here the goddess is seen as Devi and becomes well known later as Durga. The name Durga has been variously interpreted in Puranic and Tantric literature which means she is the Mother Goddess who saves us from all sorts of misery and affliction, from all dangers and difficulties. She is also known as Chandi the fierce goddess as she incarnates whenever occasion demands, for the purpose of destroying the asuras (demons) who may threaten mental peace and the heavenly domain of the divine beings.

Durga is the Mother Goddess whose worship during the Autumn is a most celebrated one. She is also worshipped as Annapurna or Annada (goddess of corn and food). In Autumn she is also worshipped as Jagadhatri (the maintainer of the world). During the Spring she is Vasanti (Goddess of Spring). In some Of the Puranas Devi is said to be worshipped by 108 names in 108 sacred places (in the Matsya Purana, chapter 13, it is said that, though she is all-pervading and underlies all forms, the devotee desirous of attaining perfection should worship her in different places).

In the Devi Kavacha of the Chandi, the Devi as Nawadurga is described as Shailaputri, Brahmacharini, Chandraghanta, Kushmanda Skandamata, Kutyayani, Mahagauri and Siddhidatri. Other forms of Shakti are Chamunda (seated on a corpse), Varahi (on a buffalo), Aindri (on an elephant), Vaishnavi (on the bird Garuda), Maheswari (on a bull), Kaumari (on a peacock), Lakshmi (on a lotus), Ishwar (on a bull) and Brahmi (on a swan). Many of the Shaktis are associated with different godheads, such as Varahi, Shakti of Varaha (the boar-god), Narasimhi of Narasimha (the man-lion god).

Some Shakti forms are also found within the Buddhist tradition. For instance, Tara, a popular Indian goddess, is also a famous Buddhist goddess, while Chhinnamasta may be compared to Vajrayogini of the Buddists.

The story of Chandi first introduces Shakti as the principle of great illusion (mahamaya) which prevents us from viewing the things of life and the world around us in their true perspective. It creates in the mind a fierce attachment to the world and thus binds us down to a lower plane of existence. But where does the principle of objective illusion originate? It is an aspect of the same divine power which is responsible for the creative process, and which is shaping the universe eternally to its end. It was there as one with the Supreme Being even when the cosmos was not, and it remains there absorbed in the existence of the Supreme Being even after the dissolution, as a potency, a seed of future creative manifestation. It has its sway, not only on all animates but also on the Supreme Being, and in connection with the latter it is called Yogamaya, the maya which is a direct part of the Lord.

Mahamaya, as the Mahashakti, remains absolutely inactive at the time of dissolution and this inactivity of the Shakti lulls the Supreme Being lo profound sleep in the ocean of causal potency. She is the Mahakali since she contracts eternal time (kala) within her and from her time proceeds again as an endless flow of creative vibration. It is incorrect to consider this power as being spiritual alone. She is ‘The’ power – spiritual, mental, intellectual, physiological and biological. Whatever exists is due to Her; whatever works, works due to Her.

(Courtesy : Yoga Magazine, Jan, 1991)

In the Rig Veda the goddess Usha is consistently associated with and often identified with the dawn. She reveals herself in the daily coming of light to the world. She has been described in the Rig Veda as a young maiden drawn by one hundred horses. She brings forth light and is followed by the sun who urges her onwards. She is praised for driving away, or is petitioned to drive away, the oppressive darkness. She is asked to chase away evil demons. As the dawn she is said to rouse all life, to set all things in motion and to send people off to do their duties. She sends the curled-up sleepers on their way to offer their sacrifices and thus render service to the other gods.

Usha gives strength and fame. She is that which impels life and is associated with the breath and life of all living creatures. She is associated with, or moves with cosmic, social and moral order. As the regularly recurring dawn she reveals and participates in cosmic order and is the foe of chaotic forces that threaten the world. Usha is generally held as an auspicious goddess associated with light and wealth, and is often likened to a cow.

In the Rig Veda she is also called ‘the mother of cows’ and like a cow that yields its udder for the benefit of people, so Usha bares her breasts to bring light for the benefit of human kind. Although she is usually described as a young and beautiful maiden, she is also called ‘the mother of the gods and the ashwins’. Considered as mother by her petitioners she tends to all things like a good matron and goddess of the earth. She is said to be ‘the eye of the gods’ and is referred to as ‘she who sees all’, but is rarely invoked to forgive human transgressions. It is more typical to invoke her in times of need to drive away or punish one’s enemies.

Usha is known as the goddess, reality or presence that bears away youth. She is described as ‘a skilled huntress who wastes away the lives of people’. In accordance with the ways of Rita she wakes all living things but does not disturb the person who sleeps in death. As the recurring dawn, Usha is not only celebrated for bringing light from darkness, she is also petitioned to grant long life, as she is a constant reminder of peoples’ limited time on earth. She is the mistress or marker of time.

The ancient Vedic tradition has viewed Usha as the harbinger of light, awareness, activity. People divided time into the form of day and night. At night all creation rests and in the day the whole of creation is active. The transformation which takes place from night to day is known to be the attribute of Usha, the awareness that stirs up the activity of creation, the light that gives sight to the eyes, that gives power to the senses, that gives power to the mind and intellect, Usha has been regarded as the light, or the dawn of human consciousness.

Another goddess commonly referred to in the Rig Veda is the goddess Prithvi who is nearly always associated with the earth, the terrestrial sphere where human beings live. In the Rig Veda furthermore she is always coupled with Dyaus the male deity associated with the sky. So dependent are these two deities in the Rig Veda that Prithvi is rarely addressed alone but almost always as part of the dual compound Dyaus-Prithvi, Sky-Earth. Together they are said to kiss the centre of the world. They sanctify each other in their complementary relationship. Together they are said to be the universal parents who created the world and the gods. As might be expected, Dyaus is often called ‘father’ and Prithvi ‘mother’.

In addition to her maternal productive characteristics, Prithvi usually, along with Dyaus in the Rig Veda is praised for her supportive nature. She is frequently called ‘firm’, ‘she who upholds and supports all things’. She encompasses all things, is broad and wide, and is motionless. Although elsewhere she is said to move freely, Prithvi with Dyaus is often petitioned for wealth, riches and power. The waters they produce together are described as ‘fat, full, nourishing and fertile’. They are also petitioned to protect people from danger, to expiate sin and to bring happiness. Together they represent a wide, firm realm of abundance and safety, a realm pervaded by the order of Rita, which they strengthen and nourish. They are un-wasting, inexhaustible and rich in gems.

In a funeral hymn the dead one is asked to go now to the lap of his mother earth, Prithvi who is described as gracious and kind. She is asked not to press down too heavily upon the dead person but to cover him gently as a mother covers her child with her skirt. The most extended hymn in praise of Prithvi in vedic literature is found in the Atharva Veda. The hymn is dedicated to Prithvi alone and no mention is made of Dyaus.

The mighty god Indra is her consort and prefects her from all dangers. Vishnu strides over her, and Parjanya. Prajapati and Vishwakarma all either protect her, provide for her or are her consorts. Agni is said to pervade her. Despite this association with male deities, the hymn makes it clear that Prithvi is a great deity in her own right. The hymn repeatedly emphasises Prithvi’s fertility. She is the source of all plants, crops, and nourishes all creatures that live upon her. She is described as patient and strong, supporting the wicked and the good, the demons and the gods, She is frequently addressed as ‘Mother’ and is called to nurse all living things.

Prithvi is also said to manifest herself in the scent of women and men, to be the luck and light in men and to be the splendid energy of maids. In brief, Prithvi is a stable, fertile and benign presence in Vedic literature-It is clear that those who praise her see her as a warm, nursing goddess who provides sustenance to all those who’ move upon her firm, broad expanse. The Rig Veda nearly always links her with the male god Dyaus but in the Atharva Veda and later vedic literature she emerges as an independent being.

(Courtesy : Yoga Magazine, Jan, 1991)

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]]> http://blog.yogamsharanam.com/vedic-gods-goddesses/feed/ 0 http://blog.yogamsharanam.com/unless-you-disobey-you-cant-learn-to-obey/ http://blog.yogamsharanam.com/unless-you-disobey-you-cant-learn-to-obey/#comments Wed, 30 Nov 2011 06:34:06 +0000 admin http://blog.yogamsharanam.com/?p=2279 Swami Suryamani Saraswati

Everyone tells everyone else to obey. The parent tells the child to obey. The teacher tells the school-boy to obey. The traffic cop tells the motorist to obey. Even the State tells the citizen to obey.

It is only the wise guru who says ‘Surrender’. For, in the act of surrendering, is the act of both disobeying and obeying. It is like creation. Unless you destroy something, you cannot create anything. When you make ice from water, what are you actually doing? You are destroying this ‘state’ of water and are creating or making ice. The carpenter first destroys the wood to make the chair. Even the guru first destroys all the negativity in the disciple, so that the disciple can be led on the path of spirituality. Thus, obedience and disobedience are actually two sides of the same coin.

Disobedience – every step of the way!

In Patanjali’s Yoga, the eight milestones on the yogic path, maybe we don’t realize it, but we disobey in order to obey, at every stage. Let’s take asanas. If we try to sit still for some time, the chances are, unless we have been practising yoga, we will find it difficult. After a few moments, we will start fidgeting. We will begin to scratch our nose, drive away an imaginary fly, or even shake our ears! That’s because our limbs are obeying their natural instincts to keep moving. So asanas teach us to disobey our natural ‘way of being’ and to control our natural tendencies.

Now, the actual asanas too have disobedience inherent in them. When we sit padmasana, our ankles begin to ache. Our ankles are not used to being folded up. So what do we do? Gradually, stage by stage, we begin to sit longer and longer until we reach a stage where we have totally disobeyed the natural inclinations of our ankles, as we go on obeying our teacher.

Then we find that the very act of ‘obedience’ disappears, and we sit comfortably for a long time. What has actually happened is, while starting to disobey our inclinations, we have begun to obey the instructions of the teacher and gone on to a stage where we are no longer obeying anything at all. We are simply sitting in padmasana. We have surrendered our self to the asana.

As you are learning or rather ‘obeying’ the instructions about the other asanas, you find that your spine, your shoulder blades, your hip joints, your stomach, in fact, different parts of your body in different asanas grumble. But you ‘disobey’ what they don’t want you to do. Instead you go on with your practice. And, as in the case of padmasana earlier, you surrender yourself totally to the asanas, one by one.

Of course, all this does not happen overnight, but in a gradual, continuous process and as days go by, you cease even to notice that your limbs have totally surrendered to the asanas. The same process takes place with pranayama. You or that part in you disobeys what your breathing pattern used to be. You now bring in a certain regularity and soon, you begin to master the different pranayamas. From this, you can now understand that in order to achieve even sthiram, that unique stillness and steadiness you find in a yogic body, one has to disobey many ‘natural’ inclinations.

Neti, neti, neti

However it is not so easy, when you come to pratyahara or the withdrawal of the senses. Since birth, your mind has been ‘obeying’ the messages of the sense organs and acting blindly according to the sensations. In fact, like a disciple surrendering to the guru, the brain has surrendered to your sense organs.

In order to achieve pratyahara, you must teach the brain to ‘disobey’ the sense organs, which were originally created to warn the brain of things happening around. This disobedience of a habit from birth, pratyahara, takes a long time to achieve. In other words, in order to obey the fifth limb or stage in ashtanga yoga, you disobey habits or ‘practices’ from birth. It is a hard task to convince yourself. ‘Not this, not this’.

This sense of ‘disobedience’ is inherent in all the other steps of ashtanga yoga.

Disobedience in evolution

We all know that man and other living beings are continuously evolving. While other living things evolve physically only, it is only man who is evolving both physically and mentally. In fact, more than the mere physical evolution, it is the evolution of the mind or consciousness that sets man apart from other beings, though there is the same atman or soul in every being.

In the tree of evolution, man is sitting right at the top. And he has to evolve his consciousness into that of a divine consciousness. That is the ‘raison d’etre’ of being born a human being. If as apemen we had all been ‘obedient’ in our activities, not straying from the trodden path, we would never have evolved to the present state of consciousness. We would still be lumbering along, eating roots and berries, living in packs instead of in societies, and our bodies would still be covered with long hair.

Somebody at different times had the conviction to question ‘Why?’ ‘Why not this way?’ and so on.

And with each question came an answer in practical terms. No matter if the answer was not really an answer. But the very act rocketed man’s consciousness to the next higher stage of evolution.

Obedience as an act of surrender

Now, disobedience is one aspect of obedience, but implicit obedience is more militaristic. The sense of implicity, obeying without questioning, stresses only on the obedience part of the act. Thus, while one implicitly obeys, the consciousness may be independent of such obedience. Given a chance, one could question.

It’s like shrugging your shoulders and saying, ‘Well, these are orders’, as you might find in a business environment, a state or a political set-up or even in some theoretical religions which go by the book. To quote a book is to quote a rule and your obedience to the rule is limited to a particular time, a particular place or a particular environment. It’s like ‘when in Rome, do as the Romans do’. What happens when you get out of Rome? What happens when you get out of that age or environment to which the book was relevant? Logically, you are no longer bound by the rule.

You are Free

Yoga, as the path to spirituality, is truth for all times, for all climes, in whatever language you speak. Therefore, implicit obedience cannot be part of spirituality or yoga, unless it represents surrender to the living ideal or path of truth.

So, blind or implicit obedience without awareness is not the answer. Nor is surrender in bits and pieces, grass-hopping to different stages. Instead, we need a steady, maybe even slow, but continuous surrender with total awareness of the act of surrendering. We must go beyond the sense of mere obedience. We must learn to temper obedience with a sense of surrender.

(Courtesy : Yoga Magazine, Sep, 1990)

‘If the guru is to transfer spiritual power to the disciple and make him or her a medium through which he can work, it can only be achieved by total obedience.’
Swami Satyananda Saraswati

Mantra moolam guror vaakyam

The guru’s word, and therefore his every order, is mantra. When the mind of the disciple receives his command, fully accepts it at ajna chakra, and forthwith acts upon it, then that very action releases the hidden, power or shakti lying deep within the word, enabling him to carry the action out. The action, once set in motion, performs itself and the disciple is merely the participant.

A shower of rain

When Ganga Darshan was still wild and uncultivated Swamiji used to lead us on jungle-clearing expeditions. He would appear from his kutir at 5 a.m. on the dot and go forth in all his glory, with measured stride, stomach to the fore like a conquering hero. Those disciples eager and lucky enough to be up to witness this would follow behind like imprinted ducklings, carrying whatever instruments they could find.

The most dense part of the undergrowth would be selected and there would then follow great cuttings and clearings, pushings and pullings, heavings and sweatings, in an intensity of concentrated work as Swamiji ordered and directed, encouraged and cajoled and sweated and worked fully with us. In this way the gardens and disciples were gradually trimmed and trained.

On one such occasion it began to rain just before breakfast, so we adjourned to the kitchen building. Everyone was exhausted but there was mixture and bananas and Swamiji sitting above us on one of the little ledges in the corridor, so the atmosphere as well as being infused with Swamiji’s presence was one of light laughter and joy. It was raining heavily outside and not being able to see Swamiji from where I was sitting, I put my full concentration into my breakfast.

Suddenly two feet appeared right in front of my plate. Absorbed in those feet, it was some time before my rational mind realised above these beautiful feet must be one, rather large stomach, and above that again, a magnificent bead. Then it struck home; Swamiji is standing right in front of ME. Looking up I met his eyes and he gave me the order to clean up the outside kitchen area.

Without a second thought I went straight to the work. It was raining very heavily and everyone bad gone, but I seemed to be caught up in a kind of whirling energy. It was doing the work and I was just riding its waves. The strength of several strong men seemed to surge through me and I forgot myself in the work, sweeping and lifting and pulling and weeding, merging with rain and mud and dirt. So much joy was there in simply obeying. The more I worked the more energy I received, and the more energy I received the more I worked, until the area was cleaned.

Now why did Swamiji tell me alone to perform this action? I may never know, I do not wish to know and it is not important for me to know, because I acted on the unconsciousness trust that whatever he tells me to do is entirely for my own benefit A very deep meaning underlies the guru’s command, for although he cannot directly interfere with nature, he can save us from the disaster of our own karma. So it is pure common sense to obey the guru if nothing else.

‘He told me’

Swamiji once had a disciple who was a government official. He used to distribute cards for Guru Poornima. Once, just before Guru Poornima, Swamiji asked him how he would distribute the cards, to which he replied that he would get one of the office boys to do it. Swamiji told him to take the day off and distribute the cards himself instead, because it involved a different route from the office, but he said he could not do so as there was much work at the office.

On reaching the office he was sent out to a place where it was believed there were some thieves, in order to investigate, and on the way the car went out of control and into the river. Within two hours of his having left Swamiji, he died in hospital repeating from his unconscious state, ‘He told me, he told me not to go’.

These few pages deal with only several hours but to be able to sustain the joy of continual obedience, inner and outer, to ride the constant current of guru’s grace, how many such disciples are there who can achieve this? I have had only brief flashes of ignition where my mind appeared to connect with his, but if he were to tell me to enter the fire, touch that thousand volt wire, or jump off the top of the seven-storey building, would I be able to do that without a thought? Would you? Life is anybody’s game and the goal is anyone’s for the achieving, if we can simply – obey.

(Courtesy : Yoga Magazine, Sep, 1990)

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]]> http://blog.yogamsharanam.com/simply-obey/feed/ 0 http://blog.yogamsharanam.com/obedience-without-self-consciousness/ http://blog.yogamsharanam.com/obedience-without-self-consciousness/#comments Mon, 07 Nov 2011 06:01:10 +0000 admin http://blog.yogamsharanam.com/?p=2273 Ishwari

Nayatma balhinena labhyaya – This atman cannot be attained by the weak- is the upanishadic pronouncement. Obedience is born of strength, faith and devotion. I am an instrument and you are its manipulator. I move as you make me move. I speak as you direct. My doings are all your doings. In ananyaya bhakti, that is the state of unswerving devotion, the sadhaka submits to the spiritualised nature of an illumined one. He recognises nothing but his Lord, and his activities are ever directed towards the divine. He has no individuality apart from the Lord. Obedience is an intrinsic part of him. obedience without ‘self’ consciousness.

Hanuman, the most perfect example of devotion, strength and obedience, was able to leap across the ocean to Lanka on the strength of Ram’s name, while Ram had to build a bridge! Another example of a great yogi who epitomises this sublime state of obedience is Gorakhnath. Guru Matsyendranath, wanting to test his disciples, commanded them to jump from a spot which would have meant certain death. All the disciples took to their heels except Gorakhnath, who unhesitatingly followed his master’s command. He was, of course, saved by Matsyendranath’s yogic powers.

Like guru and disciple, mother and child are also psychically linked. The mother is the slave, and the baby is the divine master. When the babe calls, the mother acts without ‘self’ consciousness. As soon as the babe grows and begins to assert itself, the mother becomes ‘self’ conscious; duality creeps into the relationship.

Likewise, when a ‘self’ conscious state exists in the disciple, there are bound to be fluctuating states of obedience, according to the mental and physical imbalances of the sadhaka. It is this egoistic feeling that ‘I am the doer’ which leads to delusions of grandeur, imagining oneself to be indispensable. This retrogressive state leads the sadhaka downhill.

Before we can realise the role of obedience in relation to spiritual evolution, a stable base has to be created for the mind. Just as when we receive a mantra from the guru, and start practising japa, the mind oscillates from one thought to another. With persistent yoga abhyasa, the mind becomes calm and the trinity begins to take shape. You, your mantra and your guru all merge into oneness. In the same way, one enters the state of spontaneous obedience, where there is no awareness of being obedient. It is a state where the awareness of being obedient is not experienced, because of dis-identification between the thinker and the process of obedience.

This transcendental state of obedience becomes a way of life. No more conflicting thoughts plague the sadhaka. Obedience occurs spontaneously just as one leg moves forward and the other leg follows. No questions are asked; there is no analysing, no doubts or fears, and most of all, no making excuses and justifying one’s act of disobedience. In this sublime state, obedience becomes a role which the less one identifies with, the better one can play it.

This transcendental state of obedience can be compared with humility. Conscious humility in a sadhaka is a form of ego manifesting. A saint is cot aware of his humility; he is humility personified. In other words, awareness of obedience is a transitory stage which has to be transcended in order to obtain the higher experience. This can only be experienced when the ego is erased. There are no shortcuts. In Swami Satyananda’s words, ‘The aim of a sannyasin should be to merge his thoughts and actions with the cosmic will. One must try to follow the gentle voice of intuition, for it is this that whispers the instructions of the cosmic will.’

How do sadhakas, while living in a state of self-complacency, become aware of the cosmic will? When the mind is like a railway station, and precious moments are wasted in useless pursuits and controversial conversations? Self-complacency is spiritual suicide, cancer of the soul! Self-awareness is what distinguishes a man of spiritual calibre from a man of the world. The self-complacent sadhaka lives a life of lies, a spiritually diseased state, and on the road to obedience, self-complacency points in the opposite direction. Sometimes a sadhaka may obey through fear of the preceptor. The guru is then regarded as a rewarder or a punisher. In this diverse state, the sadhaka is unable to experience complete identification with the preceptor. A sadhaka may also be obedient in an ostentatious way, for show, for advertisement, or for self-glorification. These attitudes are detrimental for spiritual progress. In Swami Sivananda’s words, ‘Simply looking at the face of the guru is not devotion. Disobedience even in little things is not devotion. Indiscipline is not devotion. Self-justification is not devotion. Self-assertion is not devotion.’

A true devotee does not deviate from the path of obedience for any reason whatsoever. While being independent in thought and action, he is willing to follow the instructions of the guru and adhere to them. The sublime state of obedience is a stepping stone towards the path of samadhi. Sannyasins as ‘divine soldiers’ should be ever ready to march into hell for a heavenly cause.

(Courtesy : Yoga Magazine, Sep, 1990)

Obedience is a quality which must be cultivated by every sadhaka and disciple, if he wishes to advance to a higher level in spiritual life. Unfortunately, however, it is a quality which most people nowadays think that they can live without, and Sadhakas are no exception. In fact, I have asked many of the Sadhakas and sannyasins here in this ashram what they think about obedience and its role in spiritual life and almost all replied, ‘Look, I cannot say anything about it, because I am a most disobedient person.’

Much of our ignorance, apathy and even disdain of this important aspect of spiritual life is due to our early training in life, and also to the era in which we are living. In this kali yuga where man has already lost three quarters of his spiritual faith and moral principles and is in the process of losing the remaining quarter, the prevailing values can hardly give rise to any form of moral or spiritual obedience. Man is no longer able to follow the dharma, for at all levels he is living for himself. Then whom should he obey and for what?

In the previous eras when man was more spiritual minded, he was also more inclined towards obedience. It came naturally for him to obey his parents, his elders, his gurus and his superiors. That was the way of the dharma, and also in those days the elders were disciplined and worthy of being obeyed. Today, however, the situation is very different. Even a small child refuses to obey. The first word he learns to say is ‘No!’ The child establishes his own individual identity at an early age and this remains with him for life. This is his personality or ego.

Passive and dynamic obedience

We are living in an age of anarchy where the material has sway over the spiritual. Obedience has been lost, because there is nobody to obey. It is each man for himself. Of course, one must obey the social rules and laws of the land to some extent, in order to avoid being ostracised, incarcerated or heavily fined. However, this type of passive obedience is of no value to us spiritually. It is only for maintaining the social order. What is necessary in the life of a sadhaka, of a disciple and of a sannyasin, is a dynamic form of obedience. That is what is essential for maintaining a spiritual order.

Passive obedience is developed by following the rules and restrictions which are externally enforced for the promotion of social order and welfare. Whereas dynamic obedience comes from within. One obeys certain rules or precepts and follows a particular discipline, because he wishes to do so for the purpose of spiritual development. In the early stages the guru or preceptor is instrumental in helping the disciple to develop this form of obedience by giving him a particular sadhana or discipline to follow. But in later stages this form of obedience must be internalised as the disciple learns to obey the commands of the internal guru or the Self.

Dynamic obedience is the basis of discipleship. Without this type of inner obedience, the disciple’s spiritual progress is constantly hindered by the dictates of the lower mind, which lead him away from the path of sadhana and self-discipline again and again. Obedience is the sign of a disciple who is prepared to loosen the bonds of ego and to unite the lower self with the higher Self, in whatever form it may take, be it guru, elder, ishta or inner guide.

Obedience is the crux of spiritual life. It is the submission of the lower will to the higher will. It is only through the higher will that the disciple is able to transcend the instinctive drives and persevere with a regular sadhana and discipline. By wilful obedience the blockages imposed by intellect and ego are removed and the disciple’s mind becomes receptive to the higher teachings. For the disciple who has attuned his mind to the guru through obedience, spiritual transmission takes place spontaneously, at all times, whether waking or sleeping.

The three attributes

Once the disciple has understood the role of obedience in spiritual life, be can cultivate this quality as he might other qualities such as charity, compassion, abstinence etc. Obedience is an inherent part of our nature, which we are all born with but few develop, because in our life there is no one whom we feel to obey. That obedience which comes from one’s own volition must be based on three important attributes: respect, faith and devotion. In order to practise dynamic obedience, there must be someone in our life who can inspire these three within us. Then obedience comes naturally and it is highly expedient to our spiritual growth.

This is why, at a certain stage of our evolution, we need a guru, a person before us who has risen above the ignominies of life, and can therefore inspire these three attributes within us. To obey such a person is a privilege and an honour. When the ego and intellect are stilled by respect, faith and devotion, submission becomes an intoxicating and thrilling experience. It is not oppressive but expressive of the divine will which manifests through you during the act of obedience.

To obey the guru or teacher who is able to inspire respect, faith and devotion, is never difficult, no matter what you are asked to do. Through obedience the realisation dawns that you are not the doer, but guru is doing everything through you. Therefore, nothing is impossible. His knowledge, power and capacity will come through you and the deed will be done. When the disciple experiences this, his respect, faith and devotion for the guru become deep and unwavering within him. All doubts and uncertainties are dissolved, and he becomes established on the path. From this point there can be no turning back for him.

Guru is God

Through obedience the disciple forms an immutable link with the guru and nothing can be withheld from either. The very life of both flows one into the other, and the two merge at the cosmic level where the guru is established. The disciple who is absolutely devoted and obedient is easily raised to the level of his guru, because there is no blockage, no restraint and no duality in their relationship. Through obedience the disciple removes all the barriers, so that the guru can raise him.

The true disciple is, therefore, one who loses his mind in the guru. As the disciple develops a deep, internal communion with the guru, he becomes less and less argumentative and more and more intuitive. He sacrifices himself, his desires, his ego and loses himself totally in the guru. The guru’s desire becomes his desire. He understands the guru’s command whether spoken or unspoken. Such a disciple obeys the guru with an internal urgency which brooks no intellectual speculation, rather the entire awareness of the disciple is focused on the doing.

This is something which the disciple must experience for himself in order to understand. And this experience in itself will be enough to transport him into unimagined heights of bliss which are not attainable even through years of contemplation and meditation. Therefore, it is said that the guru is god, and the true disciple ever approaches him with an attitude of humility and obedience. In obeying the guru, the disciple obeys god.

Sunshine and shadow

For the disciple who practises obedience, the guru’s word is final. There can be no question, no alternative and no compromise. The attitude of ‘Thy will be done’ begins to develop at this stage through the contact and link with the external guru. Later on, when the practice of obedience becomes internalised, the disciple becomes a guru in his own right, as be is able to express the divine will through his own Self, and he is disciplined and strong enough to follow it through. Such a disciple has fulfilled his commitments.

The guru also puts such disciples to very severe tests. One test is that he asks the disciple to remain physically afar. The guru knows that a fruit must have both sunshine and shadow in order to ripen. So, the disciple must have the experience of both fellowship and separation. In separation too, there is union. Spiritual obedience to the guru’s will, not physical nearness to the guru, is the mark of true discipleship.

(Courtesy : Yoga Magazine, Sep, 1990)

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]]> http://blog.yogamsharanam.com/the-role-of-obedience-in-spiritual-life/feed/ 0 http://blog.yogamsharanam.com/the-ideal-disciple/ http://blog.yogamsharanam.com/the-ideal-disciple/#comments Tue, 01 Nov 2011 06:32:20 +0000 admin http://blog.yogamsharanam.com/?p=2268 Swami Niranjanananda Saraswati

In the Mahabharata we have the story of Eklavya and Guru Drona. That is an example of an ideal disciple, one who can, without question surrender himself completely to the will of guru, realising that the will of God flows through him. He is the transmitter and we are the receiver. When Dronacharya asked Eklavya to cut off his thumb, he did it without questioning at all. If you or I had been in his place, what would we have done? We would have said, ‘This guru is cracked!’

In the Tibetan tradition we have the example of Marpa and Milarepa. If Milarepa would not have obeyed Marpa’s instructions to build several stone houses, one after another, on the side of a mountain, and if he would not have accepted with total humility all the abuses which Marpa heaped upon him, then he would not have changed- Many gurus have come and gone in this world, but few are outstanding. Milarepa became one of them, because he was an ideal disciple, and the ideal disciple later on becomes the ideal guru.

The link between guru and disciple is not physical or external. It is an internal link which is beyond the limitations and concept of time and space. In the book ‘Autobiography of a Yogi’, there is a passage which describes Paramahamsa Yogananda’s experience at the time of his guru’s death. When his guru was dying, he was not in India, and by the time he returned, his guru bad already expired. Paramahamsa Yogananda was staying at a hotel in Bombay when he heard that his guru had expired. The same night he had a vision of his guru. He saw him in flesh and blood, he touched him and spoke with him. That is the type of relationship a disciple has with a guru, and tenses and time do not really matter.

This relationship only comes when you surrender yourself completely, not only in things that you like, but also in things that you dislike. If you go with the guru to a hotel and have good food, you say, ‘Oh yes, this guru is very nice’. You wish to have good food, so you have it with the guru. Why? Because the guru also is having it, so why not I? But if the guru decides to drink molten glass, would you also drink it? Your guru is drinking it, why not you?

At the time of like and dislike, where dots that feeling of oneness come from and go away to? We tend to accept the guru in the idea or the image that we have created. That is how he should be for us. But a real disciple and a real guru are able to recognise every type of quality in each other, and be one in every thought, no matter whether they are near or far. So, if you have that type of relationship, then you are the ideal disciple.

(Courtesy : Yoga Magazine, sep,1990)

The bond between guru and disciple cannot be compared to any other human relationship. Father and daughter, mother and son, husband and wife, lovers, brothers and friends: all love with a reason, a motive or a desire. But guru and disciple are welded together by a divine affection which is not subject to drifts of emotion or doubts of the mind. They are beyond the formalities that the world lives by. Their relationship takes place on a higher spiritual plane. The gum chooses his disciple with great care, for he takes as his own only those whose hearts are pure. His ways are mysterious, but there is great meaning behind them.

Guru’s unorthodox behaviour

When Guru Ramdas was preparing to die, he wanted to see the mind of his disciples to find the one upon whom to confer his powers. One day he was passing a sweet shop and he slopped to purchase some jalebis. His disciples were following behind and they too began to savour the delicacies in the shop. Guru Ramdas smiled to himself. He next took them to a wine store and began tasting the different liquors. The disciples said to each other, ‘We must sacrifice our principles and follow his example, for our guru’s sake.’ To show their devotion they shared a bottle of wine between themselves. Next Guru Ramdas visited a prostitute’s house; he ate chicken, drank bhang, and the devotees proved their obedience by following his example without hesitation.

It was time for the final test. Guru Ramdas took them to a glass factory and began drinking boiling liquid glass as if it were water. The disciples stepped back, horrified. ‘Our guru cannot be in his senses,’ they murmured. ‘He will scald his throat and die, and so shall we if we do likewise.’ But one disciple cried, ‘When Guruji offered you sweet meats you accepted them, but now in the face of danger, you all desert him, Guruji, let me die with you, for I cannot bear to live in this world without you’ He swallowed a draught of liquid glass and with that he instantly attained samadhi, and Guru Ramdas left his body.

Implicit trust

In the beginning the disciple may be disturbed by the guru’s unorthodox behaviour, but once the guru/ disciple relationship is cemented, the disciple has to accept the rough with the smooth, and the blame with the praise. Whether the guru loves him or insults him, his mind should be as unswerving as the mother who has given birth to a girl and never wishes it had been a boy. If the disciple is wise, he quickly realises that whatever the guru may do, it is only for the good and his doubts give way to implicit trust.

There was a boy who was destined to die from a snakebite, and his guru knew it. The disciple used to accompany his master on his travels, and one night they had to pass through the jungle. The boy felt tired, and lay down to rest beneath a tree. The master sat beside him, alert to the dangers that surrounded them. When the disciple was sleeping, the guru saw the king of snakes approaching the boy’s head. He commanded him to stop, and asked from which part of the boy’s body he was destined to take blood. The snake replied, from the throat. So, the saint took his knife and gently made a small slit in the disciple’s neck. He gave the blood to the snake, who repeated, satisfied, back to the jungle.

When the boy had felt the knife on his throat, he had opened his eyes, but on seeing the knife was held by his beloved guru, he closed his eyes again and went back to sleep. The guru woke him and asked, ‘Why did you open your eyes? And why did you close them again?’ The boy replied, ‘I opened my eyes because I felt a knife on my throat and I thought that someone wanted to kill me. I closed them again because I saw you, and I know that you would never do anything to harm me.’

Kicks and abuse

The unity that grows between guru and disciple is so unfailing that the guru can kick his disciple out of the front gate, because he knows he will immediately appear at the back door. Similarly, the disciple can abuse his guru with frank hostility if he chooses, for the guru is his own and he adores him. Despite the stature of the guru and the humility of the disciple, they can confront each other without formality. Freedom in speech and behaviour is the vehicle by which they reveal, one to the other, their thoughts and feelings. Whether the disciple scolds the guru or the guru scolds the disciple, it is of little consequence, for there is no difference between them, and each may just as well be abusing his own self.

My guru has never spared the rod and spoilt me with praise. Many times he has beaten me in public, sometimes for mistakes, sometimes for no apparent reason at all. But his harsh words have made me tough. If he threatens me, he is breaking my inflexible wilt, and if he kicks me, he is clearing away the ignorance that blinds my vision. Once my guru hit me until I lay face down in the mud crying, but I saw tears in his eyes, for in punishing me, he suffered more than I did.

I am His

The guru should he kept inside, for closeness to the guru is spiritual, not physical. It is not necessary for the disciple to live with the guru to be close to him. The greater the physical distance between them, the more faith, devotion and love inspire the disciple. He who lives on the banks of the Ganga rarely thinks of bathing in her, but he who lives far away dreams of having that opportunity. The disciple who always sits in the presence of the guru is blinded by his mortal form, but from a distance the guru’s essence shines in meditation, and their souls meet in a mystic embrace.

In many silent and unknown ways my guru has saved and supported me at uncertain moments of my life. It was my guru’s blessings that protected me when I lived for six years in a, troubled city amidst violence and gunfire. While homes all around were being gutted by bombs and even the walls of my ashram were pierced by bullets, the house remained safe.

When I first came to my guru. I was a foolish young girl, drawn by an undefined attraction and a simple desire to be near him. I used to sit in his class and chant Om louder and longer than everyone else to make he noticed me, and I followed him from town to town on his travels. But although I loved him, I hated the idea of becoming a sannyasin. By force my guru dyed my clothes geru and shaved my head. My resistance was feeble when confronted by the power of his loving will.

My guru can do what he likes with me, for I am his. My only sadhana and my only resolve are to obey him more and more. I do not care whether he loves me or not, whether he blesses me or not. I pray that he abuses me, hurts me and rejects me. Only I want him in my heart. He is my mother, father, husband and companion. I do not need to massage his feet or sing his name aloud to prove my devotion for I have kept him inside and closed my ears, eyes, nose and mouth so tightly that he cannot escape, nor can anyone else get in. Guruji. I pray that I many be reborn in every species and from every form to serve and repay you, for this lifetime is not sufficient.

(Courtesy : Yoga Magazine, Sep, 1990)

As the master grew old and infirm, the disciples begged him not to die. Said the master, ‘if I did not go, how would you see?

‘What is it we fail to see when you are with us?’ the disciples asked. But the Master would not say.
‘When the moment of his death was near, they said, ‘What is it that we will see when you are gone?’
With a twinkle in his eye, the Master said, ‘All I did was sit on the river bank handing out river water. After I am gone, I trust you will notice the river.’

There is a beauty in the desert, in the wilderness, stark and still, a vibration of centuries of powerful silence. It is not the verdant blossoming of green, the overflowing of the palette of nature – with crimson, gold and purple flowers spilling over in their fullness, over stone and moss. It is not the spell binding brilliance of youth. It is the cool radiance of tapasya. No flowering here, no languid breeze to caress a delicate blossom seared by the heat of the relentless sun, no footstep, no whisper. All nature seems to wait with hushed breath, holding in its womb the birth of the unknown.

Here, on this dry and arid ground, called by the local Bihar is ‘Smashan Bhoomi’, sitting alone before a fire, was the man I had travelled for six days to be with for a few minutes. I had not planned to visit. I had not calculated the time to come to Munger. As always I had followed a deep inner urge, the pull of my inner self in this direction. I was simply obeying a call. And during my journey I had constantly thought of Him- my Guru, the Gardener, of how he had given up his personal freedom for the sake of a Mission.

For there was a mission to be accomplished, taking yoga from door to door, across oceans, into scientific laboratories, into temples of learning, places of healing and homes, the cradles of world cultures. Meticulously, the soul was planting seeds, nurturing young plants, toiling in silence until they grew into tall, sturdy trees, yielding shade and fruit to seekers of light the world over. There was a purpose to every weed he pulled out, every plant he pruned, every flower that blossomed. And yet, as he worked, it was as if he was working amidst shadows. The shrubs flowered, the grass grew, the trees were laden with fruit. But deep within him, it was not the garden that held him captive. It was the vision of the Beloved whom he was serving.

The quality of a disciple

Many years ago I had asked him, ‘If a disciple had to have one quality, which should it be? And he had said. ‘Obedience, It will help you to get the bhavana. ‘Na Ham Karta, Gum Karta, Guru Karta Hi Kevalam.’ At that time I had taken it to be an instruction to me. Today I feel that I, the questioner, was a movement in the periphery of a larger consciousness, seeking and being answered, a little pattern in the vast waters.

Have you seen a river flowing? Somewhere along the way is a stone. The flow is disturbed. The questioning waters form a ripple which is answered by another ripple, which in turn forms a wave until the stone is passed and it finds its own inner harmony and is agitated no more. It exists then, not as many ripples, but as one river.

I kept that one word ‘Obedience’ in the sacred recesses of my heart. It was like a Zen koan. It disturbed me in difficult moments. It turned my life upside down a few times. It played joyous tunes in my moments of clarity. But always it was present, a seed planted in a thirsty soil. It was like a constant breath my restless mind butted against as if it were a rock. ‘Obedience’ to Whom? What is the Guru? What is the stuff gurutwam or guru consciousness is made of? Is there someone who commands and someone who surrenders? What is this command and surrender made of?

Over the years the patterns changed and changed. They swirled and eddied around me. The splashing dissolved. Colours and lights flowed into the patterns as if that one word, ‘Obedience’ were a bindu around which yantras of life unfolded, making glorious music. All life now became an orchestra, all interactions seen from the centre as vibrations of a symphony, millions of musical instruments trying to tune into a harmony.

Obeying an order

As I sat before Swamiji at Deoghar, all the patterns dissolved. He was a mandala, a symbol of humanity at its peak. He was an unfolding of true manhood, all that is best and beautiful in spiritual consciousness. As I watched him, smeared with holy ash, ebony coloured by the overhead sun and the fire in front of him, the question rose in my mind, ‘Why is this necessary?’ As this surfaced to my mind, unvoiced because of reverence, the answer came, ‘I am not doing this for name or fame, not even for spiritual benefit. I am simply obeying an order.’

As he said this, everything became still. He was not there. I was not there. There was something permeating, pervading, overwhelming and uplifting. It was a glimpse, a second perhaps of being one. In that instant I understood the meaning of ‘Obedience’. The years between his utterance of the word and my understanding of it rolled into oblivion. The hair on my body stood on end as I realised how blessed I was to be in the presence of this magnificent phenomenon, to witness the flow of the divine in the empty bamboo of his physical frame. The guru was there. The shishya was there. And then both were stilled.

I renounced everything

When he said later, ‘At Tryambakeshwar, I placed my clothes before the deity and with that I renounced everything, even my identity as guru, and I said, ‘I have fulfilled the mission. What should I do now?’ he was talking like a child. I was reminded of one of the steps in formal worship where the devotee offers apiece of cloth saying, ‘Vastram Samarpayami’. This cloth is symbolic of the avarna shakti of divinity, the quality of covering its limitlessness by seeming limited- Maya, so that, in the words of Sri Aurobindo, ‘God plays hide and seek with himself’. In offering the geru to the divine beloved, Swamiji had in one blow cut asunder all individual identity to merge into a vaster consciousness.

Masters always talk of the inner. Our confusions arise because we are preoccupied with the outer. When he continued, ‘I will not even be able to guide you any more,’ I smiled at his Grace, for he was stilling my mental needs, my search for guru and my receptivity as disciple. He was pointing to my innermost core which was neither this nor that, but which simply is – the Truth, Satyam.

As I left, I felt a tangible presence, as if I were wrapped in love. This feeling persisted. I remembered him saying years ago, ‘After the first diksha, each initiation becomes subtler and subtler’.

(Courtesy : Yoga Magazine, Sep, 1990)

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