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"One
Little Story"
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| ... for this son
of mine was dead and has come to life again; Samartha
Ramdas, the great saint, was on his begging
round. He stood before the palace of S'ivaji
(for it was on his way) and cried: "Alms".
S'ivaji Himself came down and stood before him
and placed a piece of Once a big
argument arose between a dualist and a
monist (a dvaitin
and an
advaitin).
The monist said that the jîva
is not really jîva, but is
genuinely deva; that the individual is
God, that all is God. The dualist would not
agree, even though many quotations were given by
the monist from the Vedas etc. to prove the
point. The dualist accosted a dhobi
(washerman) who was passing along the road and
asked him: "Hello, tell us who you are. Are you
God?" The dhobi got frightened at the suggestion
and said: "No, I am only I''. Then, the dualist
said: "Did you hear? Even the man in the street
knows that he is not God and that he is only
a jîvi". The advaitin replied: "No.
He said that I am I. Everyone from the Emperor
down to the man in the street says, I am I.
Now, that I is the reflection of God in the
individualised body". One
merchant who was very much afraid of death,
worshiped the God of Death, Yama
for many years and offered elaborate puja
to Him. Yama was pleased at the special
attention and adoration shown by him and
promised that he will not pounce upon him all of
a sudden, but will give him advance intimation,
so that he could put his affairs in good trim
before leaving the world. When at last, his end
came and he was about to die, he got wild with
Yama and in his anger, he blamed Yama with
falsehood, ingratitude and cheating. He said
that he was not given any advance intimation at
all. But, Yama said: "Why? I have sent you not
one but four intimations, well in advance of
this consummation." The merchant said that he
had not received any of them. But Yama said:
"Your hair turned grey, that was the first
intimation. But, you dyed it and forgot its
lesson. I made you bold, but you wore a wig and
slighted the notice I gave. Then, I had all your
teeth fall off; you wore a denture and pretended
I was far away. The fourth intimation I sent was
folds all over your skin. You did not pay heed
to that warning too". Indeed Yama had kept
His word. The
Mother Cat, it is said, carries its newly born
kittens, still with unopened eyes, from house to
house, depositing them in seven different homes.
By the time the seventh house is reached, the
kittens open their eyes and can see well and
clearly. Man changes home every birth. But,
his eyes do not open to the truth of God, even
after his changing home (lives) many and many a
time. When
Babruvahana,
the son of Arjuna, took hold of the horse
that was to be sacrificed ceremoniously at the
As'vamedha
to be celebrated by the Pândavas,
he did not know that it was his father who had
come to retrieve the horse from captivity. When
he knew that Arjuna had come, he moved
forward and fell at his feet. When his mother
heard about his quiet submission, she got
enraged at his cowardice. "Being a
kshatriya, how could you yield the horse
you have laid hands on, without a fight? Let
him, even if it be your father, win it on the
battlefield", she said. So, the battle took
place between father and son and, believe it or
not, Arjuna fell dead when the arrows of
Babruvahana struck him on the chest. During
Kurukshetra battle, Arjuna had let loose
the Brahmâstra,
the most mortal of all lethal weapons, at
Bhîshma and that had led to his
ultimate death. But, instead of joy at the death
of the mighty general of the Kaurava forces,
Arjuna was overwhelmed by remorse. Bhîshma
had brought up the Pândava brothers
lovingly and with care after the death of their
father Pându, while they were yet
children. He was the
pithâmahâ or grandfather of
all of them. Now that he had himself caused his
death, Arjuna cursed himself for having done so.
He wished: "Let me be killed by my own son as
compensation for this ungrateful act of mine".
Ulupî described this background story and
soon, revived Arjuna back to life, with the
mysterious powers she had accumulated in the
nether world. Every incident that looks
absurd or wonderful, inexplicable or impossible
that is mentioned in the Purânas
[see the Purâna S'rimâd
Bhâgavatam]
has a deeper meaning and significance.
But one day,
while Akbar was engaged in prayer, he heard the
distant music of Haridâsa, a wandering
minstrel, a beggar singing to the tune of a
single-stringed instrument he held in his hand,
Akbar was thrilled, enchanted, deeply moved.
He asked
Tansen, why that song appealed to him more than
all the songs Tansen sang in the durbar. Tansen
replied: "Lord! I sing, looking at your face to
see any sign of appreciation, in the hope that
you will give me a few gems or some acres of
land. He sings looking at the face of God, with
no greed for material wealth or ambition for
earthly goods. That is the
difference". There
was a Court Poet in the durbar (court) of the
Emperor of Vijayanagar, called
Lingapurana Sooranna, since he was an
expert in expounding the text Linga
Purâna.
He had rabid envy towards Tenali
Ramakrishna,
another Court Poet who had far greater talents.
One day, Sooranna was at home composing a
lampoon against Tenali Rama (or Vikata
Kavi) in quite a ribald style. He was
half-way through, when he received a call from
the Emperor. So, he left the manuscript on his
table and hurried to the palace. Then, Mother
Kâlî, the Goddess who was the
patron deity of Ramakrishna, appeared
before him and asked him to go to Sooranna's
house and himself finish the unfinished lampoon.
He did so and when Sooranna returned home, he
was dismayed to find that the lampoon was an
attack on himself, on his low and vulgar envy
towards others far greater in poetic talent.
Divinity cannot tolerate the besmirching of
true devotees by envious and malignant minds.
[see for an example Bhâgavata
Purâna,
5.9:
The Supreme Character of Jada
Bharata] There
were once three fishes in a pond. One fish said
to the other two: "The water in this pond is
getting less and less; the pond will dry up
soon. Let us go to some lake which will not dry;
the fisherman is waiting to catch us and eat
us". The second fish said: "O, it is a long way
off. We might get a shower of rain and the pond
will not get dry". The third one said: "Your
mind is full of needless fears; you were always
so. No fisherman knows we are here". As
anticipated, the fisherman did come and trapped
all three. The fisherman is no other than Death.
The length of our life here is the level of
water in the pond. We are fishes that are
blind and stupid, who will not listen to
warnings. Râvana
tried all methods to persuade
Sîtâ to yield, enter his
zenana and become his consort. He
threatened her with instant death; he enticed
her with gifts and promise of more. He tried
soft words and cruel torture. At last, he hit
upon a brilliant idea. He assumed the form of
Râma and thought that she would be
misled by that impersonation. But, as soon as he
assumed that form, all evil thoughts fled from
him and only ideals of righteousness held sway.
So, he had to give up that trick, as useless
[see also Ramakatha
Rasavahini]. Next
day, Abou's home was again lit with the same
brilliance, in the centre of which was found the
same recording Angel. She had another register
now. Abou asked her what she was
recording in that register. She said: "I am
writing down the names of those who are loved by
God." Hesitatingly and with great temerity, Abou
asked her whether his name was in that register.
The angel put her finger on the very first entry
and said: "See! Your name is the very first".
Love your fellowmen, that is the best method
to earn the Grace of God. Sage
Vis'vâmitra knew that Râma
was the Incarnation of God and that He had taken
human form in order to destroy the demonic
forces and persons. He felt that
Râma alone could keep the demons at
bay, while he performed the vedic rite of
yajña. He was certain that
Râma was invincible on the
battlefield and that Râma's
divinity was full and impregnable. Yet, his ego,
at the possession of certain weapons which can
be activated by the pronunciation of certain
mystic formulae and his knowledge of certain
mantras which can confer safety and
security, was so dominant that he offered to
teach Râma how to handle them and
how to master the mantras! It was all the
effect of mâyâ and
Râma tolerated the whims of the old
man. He was the author of the delusion and he
must have repeated the mantras after
Vis'vâmitra with a chuckle, at the
predicament of Vis'vâmitra. One
day, while overcome by grief at his misery, his
eye fell on the 22nd
s'loka of the 9th
chapter,
where the Lord assures that He will bear the
burden of all who take refuge in Him. He felt
that in his case, the assurance was a hoax and
so, he took his pen and dipping it in red ink,
he struck out the exasperating line! Somewhat
relieved of anger, he rose and went out with his
bowl. Before
long, two boys, brothers by appearance, the
younger of darker hue, came to his door, with a
bag of rice and a basin of sundry other
provisions. The wife was surprised because they
insisted all of it was for her and her husband!
She found a bleeding gash on the back of the
younger boy and when she asked him who had
inflicted the cruel wound, the reply was: "Your
husband". How could he lose temper so much as to
stab such a charming child, she wondered. But,
the brothers disappeared in a flash. The
husband knew nothing about the bleeding boy. He
pleaded innocence. He wondered who could have
sent them help. His head was in a whirl. As
always, he turned to the Gîtâ
for consolation. The Book opened on the 9th
chapter, s'loka 22. Ah! His eye fell on the
angry gash he had drawn on that page, across
that line. That
pen had gashed S'rî Krishna's back! His
want of faith had "wounded" Him so. He ran about
like mad to discover the Boy to fall at His
feet, crying for mercy. But He could not be
found. So,
have faith in the assurance ofthe Lord; when He
says: "Why fear, I am here", He means it. When
He says: "I look to you, when you look to Me",
He means it. [See also the story: An Old
Brahmin Friend (Sudama) Visits Krishna -
S.B.
10.80] 237.
Father
Leaps to Save the Son
|
The
paper
in the saint's hands. "What can a hungry man do
with a scrap of paper?", Ramdas asked. "Read it
please" said S'ivaji, humbly and reverentially.
The paper was a document by which S'ivaji had
transferred His empire to the care and control
of his master, Samartha Ramdas. Ramdas laughed
and said: "Well, rule the empire on my behalf,
with due attention to dharma". He gave
the paper back. Then, he resumed his begging
round. 
One
day, when Swami Vivekananda was moving
about in the city of Calcutta, an
aristocratically dressed person accosted him and
asked: "Why do you wear this gerua (ochre color)
robe? Perhaps, you want to advertise that you
have given up the world and renounced all
desires. This exhibition is a sign of ego".
Swami Vivekananda laughed and said: "My dear
friend! I have no such idea. I wear it because,
seeing that I am a sannyasin, with no money, no
beggar would approach me and bother me. I can
walk about without being pestered. I have
spiritual treasures with me, but no cash. When
people come asking for them, I give".
Akbar
[also known as Akbar the Great of the
Mughal Empire, (1542-1605)] was happy
whenever 
There
lived on the banks of the sacred Ganga a poor
brahmin, who was an ardent student of the
Bhagavad Gîtâ. He read it every day;
he worshipped the Book and he tried to live
according to its teachings. But, his faith was
sorely tried, for he was immersed in distressing
poverty. His bowl was seldom filled; he and his
wife were on half ration all the time.
