"One
Little Story"
|
ck1
- ck2
- ck3
- ck4
- ck5
|| ck6
-
ck7
-
ck8
- ck9
- ck10
||
ck11
- ck12
- ck13
- ck14
|
We
must experience only the eternal bliss with the
jîva and not the worldly things. We
must perform good actions with the body and must
have good promptings by the mind. It is only
such things that please God and draw forth His
Grace. Here
is a small example. There is a big wall-clock.
There are three hands on it. One is a
second hand, another is a minute
hand and the third one is the hour hand.
The second hand travels very fast, moving
round the 12 numbers in 60 seconds, while,
during this time, the minute hand moves
through only the little mark or division. After
the minute hand travels through sixty
divisions, the hour hand moves through
one hour. Sixty seconds make one minute and
sixty minutes make one hour. Because the
second hand and the minute hand
travel relatively fast, we are able to see their
motion. Because the hour hand travels
slowly, we are not able to see its
movement. In the same
way, after we perform a number of good deeds,
the mind reaches a good place; when the mind
thinks of a number of good thoughts, the
jîva reaches the holy place of
âtmâ.
We are able to see the body-acts reaching the
jîva (individual soul), but not the
acts of the jîva reaching the
âtmâ. Our body is like the
second hand. Our mind is like the
minute hand. Our life is like the
hour hand. Therefore, we must do a number
of good deeds through our body. We must
contemplate over many good things with our mind.
Only then, can we reach the holy place in
the
jîva-tattva.
These are called the gross, the
subtle and causal states. When we
want to reach the causal stage, we must
do many good things with this gross body and
contemplate many good things with the subtle
mind [see also Tempometer:
Calculation help for setting a clock to the
sun]. 129.
Râma
Blesses Govardhana Hill Nothing
ever happens without proper cause, however
accidental or mysterious it might appear. The
roots go deep and are out of sight. I was
telling J.
Hislop
(author of 'My Baba and I') in Bombay at
Dharmakshetra the same thing. The bridge
towards Lanka was being built over the straits
so that Râma and His army could
march across to the realm of the demon King
Râvana, where Sîtâ
was interned. The valiant monkeys were
plucking mountains and leaping vast distances in
space with those peaks hoisted on their
shoulders, so that they could be thrown into the
sea to create a passage for Râma!
The monkeys had formed a queue all the way from
the Himalayas down to the southernmost point,
where the bridge was fast coming up. When the
causeway was completed, word went fast along the
queue that no more hills are needed and each
monkey placed on the ground, wherever it stood,
the hill it had on its shoulder at the time.
One
hill, however, did not sit quietly. It started
bewailing its fate! "Why was I removed from
where I was and why am I now refused? Alas! I
was elated that I am destined to serve a divine
purpose; I was overjoyed that the Armies of
Râma and Râma Himself will
walk over me. Now, I am neither there, nor where
I was!" It shed profuse tears. News reached
Râma, and His compassion was great.
He sent word that in His next
avatâr, when He will come again
upon His mission in human form, He will
certainly bless the sorrowing hill. This was the
Govardhana Peak which the Lord (as the
boy Krishna, see
S.B. 10:25,
B.V.
ch. 35,
ch.
38,
& RRV.
ch. 7a)
lifted on His finger and held aloft for full
seven days, in order to save the cowherds of
Gokul from the deluge of rain that Indra
dared to inflict on them! 130.
Straight
Dealings - Always Best Those
who are too weak or unsteady to go through the
prescribed discipline bring all kinds of lame
excuses, when charged with malingering. A
farmer's dog was a fierce animal; it leaped
towards a visitor with bared teeth and would
have bitten him, if not for his timely discovery
a thorny stick on the ground was picked up, with
which he hit the dog on the head. The dog
retreated howling in pain; the master heard it
and got wild at the visitor for inflicting
wounds on the dog's head; he dragged him to the
Royal Court. The King asked him why he had
beaten the dog which according to the farmer was
quite a harmless pet. The visitor
said that it had actually leaped at him and
bared its teeth. The farmer said that this did
not justify his using a thorny stick; he could
have used a smooth stick instead. The visitor
reported that when one is anxious about saving
his life which is in jeopardy, one has no time
to discriminate and pick and choose; he has to
use what his hands find. Besides, he asked,
"Why; the dog could have threatened to bite me
with its tail; when it bites with the teeth, I
have to reply with something equally sharp". The
Râja appreciated the point of the visitor
and he was acquitted. Because it was his pet,
the farmer resorted to all these tactics; the
visitor had to use counter tactics. Straight
dealing could have avoided the
bother. 131.
"Is
That Real" or "Is This Real"? Reality
can be grasped in a flash of illumination, as
happened to Emperor Janaka. One evening, Janaka
was in his Durbar Hall, surrounded by his
courtiers and a bevy of female musicians; they
sang sweet melodies and the Emperor enjoyed the
music so well that he slept off, while on the
throne. No one had the temerity to wake him;
they all quietly slipped into the inner
apartment, lest their talk and movements might
disturb him. He was left alone with an
attendant, and the queen. At about midnight, the
Emperor screamed pitiably and awoke at the
sound. His queen ran towards him. The Emperor
asked her, "Is that real?" She could not
find an answer to this question, for how could
she know which was that and which was this? The
Emperor asked everyone the same question; in
fact, he spoke no other word. That question was
continuously on his lips. News spread that
Janaka had gone mad; there was mourning
everywhere. A sage who heard of this came to the
palace and was brought to the Imperial Presence.
He assured Janaka that he would answer his
question, provided he told him what he saw in
his dream, while sleeping on the throne and why
he screamed so. Janaka had a
dream. He dreamt that rival kings had joined
forces and invaded his dominion and captured his
capital and that, to save himself from them he
ran into a forest. Fleeing from his foes, he had
no food for days together. He was too exhausted
to move. But, hunger dragged him on. When he
came to the outskirts of a tribal village, he
saw a man washing his plate after taking food;
he shouted to him asking for a few particles.
The man gave him a small morsel, but, as bad
luck would have it, a crow flew in at that
moment and snatched it away! That was the reason
why he screamed in agony. That was why
he asked, "Is that real or, is this
real?" The hunger was as real as the throne;
ruling over the Empire is as real as the loss of
empire was in the dream. The sage told him.
"That is unreal; this too is unreal. That was a
Swapna, this is Jagrath, both
are Mithya (not false, because they are
relatively real; though not absolutely real they
have temporary reality, a reality that is
negatived by subsequent investigation and
experience). But, you dreamed, you woke, you
screamed, you asked; therefore, you existed
during both stages; so you alone are real" . The
"I" that persists in all the three stages --
waking, dream and deep sleep -- that "I" is the
only reality; it is the "I" that appears as all
this manifested Universe. Provided
your intellect is sharp and free from prejudices
and predilections, the reality will reveal
itself to you in a flash, for it is quite a
simple thing. Only, it must be capable of seeing
the problem in its basic essence, apart from all
the jumble of irrelevancies. Once a very
learned pundit was holding forth in a very
pedantic manner the story of
Gajendramoksha from the Bhagavatha
(see also S.B.
8.2: 4),
before the Mahârâja in his Durbar
Hall, before a large gathering of courtiers. He
described how the Lord, on hearing the agonised
call for succor from the elephant held by the
jaws of the monstrous crocodile, hurried from
Heaven (Vaikunthha) without stopping even to
collect His insignia and weapons, without even
intimating to His Consort where He was bound to
and on what mission. Suddenly, the
Mahârâja interrupted him with the
question. "Tell me, pundit, how far is this
Vaikunthha?" The learned pundit did not know the
distance; he was non-plussed. Nor did any of the
other scholars in the palace know. But the
servant who was fanning the King from behind the
throne offered to furnish the answer, if his
impertinence be pardoned. The pundit was shocked
at his effrontery, but the Mahârâja
allowed him to speak. "Your Majesty!
Vaikunthha is as far as the cry of the
elephant could be heard", he said. Yes, when the
anguish of a devotee's heart is expressed as a
cry or a groan or a sigh, the Lord is as far
only as that sound could reach; He is always on
the alert to listen to the cry of His children.
His Residence, Vaikunthha, is within hearing
distance of every cry, from every grief-stricken
heart. That illiterate servant knew in a flash
the Omnipresence and the Compassion of the
Lord. 133.
Cultivate
Divine Qualities Man
must reveal the divine qualities of love,
humility, detachment and contentment; if he does
not he becomes worse than a beast and more
deadly. There was a dog that pleaded with
Râma for a place in the aerial car
in which He returned to Ayodhyâ.
When Râma asked the reason for this
strange behavior and request, the dog said that
man had become worse than worms and fleas; man
had started tormenting dogs who were loyally
serving him. One should so
live that no pain is caused to other beings
through one's activities. And, one should be
ever grateful for kindness received.
Kârtavîryârjuna was
treated with lavish hospitality by
Jamadagni, but the wicked man coveted the
Kâmadhenu that made the lavishness
possible [see also Summer
Showers in
Brindavan-7
and S.B.
9:15].
Bharthrhari,
on the death of the queen, was so struck with
remorse that he wept and moaned on the cremation
ground itself for days on end. Seeing his
inconsolable plight, one sage came before him,
with a mud pot in his hand. Right in front of
the bereaved man, the pot slipped from his hand,
fell on the hard ground and was broken. The sage
wept and moaned and was inconsolable.
Bharthrhari consoled him and said, the
broken pot cannot be made whole by any amount of
lamentation. Suddenly he realised the absurdity
of his own behavior and stopped crying; this was
the purpose of the sage's ruse! You come to
Parthi, listen to these discourses, nod approval
and clap hands in appreciation. But when you
pass through the gate on the way home, it all
evaporates. Or, you apply the lessons you learn
in an indiscriminate way and suffer. There was a
merchant who used to attend discourses and when
he heard a speaker say that cows should not be
driven off while they are feeding, he looked on,
when a cow entered his shop and ate off a good
portion of the grains he had kept for sale.
Later, he was told that he should not take every
bit of advice he received as valid for all
occasions. He advised his son: "Look here, you
sit on the floor on a towel while listening to
the discourse, is it not? When the discourse is
over and you rise up, do you not wave the towel
forcibly in the wind to shake of all the sand it
collected? Shake off from your mind and brain
all the ideas and advice you have collected
during the discourse and then, come home." If
you do as that merchant advised, what is the
benefit of coming, staying, hearing and being
exhorted? When
you attempt to deceive another, remember there
will emerge some one who can deceive even you.
There was a thief once who was skilled in all
the stratagems and tricks of that profession.
There was not a single one that he had not
mastered. One day, after collecting a large
number of costly articles and bundling them up,
he was moving along a lonely road with the booty
on his shoulder. He saw a child standing on the
bank of a wayside tank, weeping aloud, in great
distress. The thief went near and asked, "Why
are you weeping? What has happened to you?" The
child said, (and here, you have to remember that
it does not matter how old or how young a person
is; it is the intelligence that matters). "I
came here for a bath; my golden necklace fell
into the waters, right there, where I tried to
have a dip. The place is too deep for me." The
thief thought that he could get away with this
necklace too, for it was a little child that
stood between him and the jewel. So, placing his
bundle on the bank, he went down into the waters
to retrieve the necklace. Meanwhile, the child
lifted the thief's bundle and running a short
distance, disappeared into the jungle. The thief
came up disappointed, for the necklace was but a
fiction, only to find that he had been robbed!
Who ever deceives another will have some one
cleverer to outwit him. 135.
Two
Minutes of the Forbidden Fruit There
was a famous dacoit once who advised his son
while initiating him into the ancestral
profession, never for a moment to listen to
stories of the Lord. "Do not stay to listen to
any Purâna or any reading of the
Bhagavatha", he exhorted the young
aspirant. The son scrupulously observed this
injunction for years and amassed a good fortune.
One night however, while running with his loot
on his shoulder through a side lane of the city
to avoid the police, a peace of glass cut his
sole; he sat for a while to pull it off and stop
the flow of blood. He was then behind a house,
where some one was reading and explaining the
Bhagavatha to a small group of listeners.
He listened perforce for a short two minutes.
The spark fell on the heap of cotton. During
that short period, he heard the pundit
explaining the nature of God. He has no ears, no
eyes, no limbs: he has a thousand forms; He is
without form. "sarvatah
pâni-pâdam", as the
Gîtâ [B.G. 13:14]
says. That description got fixed in his heart.
He could not shake it off. A few days
later the police came to know of the
depredations made by him as well as his
associates and kinsmen. In order to know more
about their activities they entered the area
incognito; one constable as Kali and some
others as the worshipers and priests. They
shouted and yelled, cursed and terrified the
dacoits and called upon them to come out of
their homes and fall at the feet of
Kali. Many did so,
but the son who had heard the Bhagavatha,
albeit for two minutes, knew just enough to save
his skin. He was not terrified at all. He
challenged the constable who was acting the role
of Kali and tore off his make-up and
exposed the plot and instilled courage into
hearts of the gang. Then, when the police left
discomfited he argued within himself thus: "If
two minutes of the forbidden fruit could help me
so much, what can I not gain, if I devote myself
entirely to the stories of the glories of God?"
He left off the evil path and became a
Sâdhaka. Once
upon a time, a monk wearing the ochre robe
chanced to enter a village full of atheists; he
fell in with a gang of defiant youth who
challenged him to show them that the God whom he
was adoring actually existed. He said, he can,
but before doing so, he asked for a cup of milk.
When the milk was placed before him, he did not
drink it; but, sat looking at it, long and
silently, with increasing curiosity. The youths
became impatient; their clamour became
insistent. The monk told them: "Wait a minute. I
am told that there is butter in milk; but, I
must say this cup does not have it, for, I do
not see any of it, however hard I look into it!"
The fellows laughed at his innocence and said,
"silly man! Don't rush into such absurd
conclusions. Milk has butter in every drop; that
is what makes it so nourishing. If you must see
it as a separate concrete entity, you have to
boil the milk, cool it, add sour curd, wait for
some hours for it to curdle, then, churn it and
roll the butter that floats into a ball". "Ah",
said the monk, "that makes my task of showing
you God much easier! God is in everything,
being, atom of the universe; it is because of
this that they exist and we can cognise them and
enjoy them. To see Him as a concrete entity, you
have to follow a prescribed procedure,
earnestly, strictly and sincerely. Then, at the
end of it all, you can experience His Grace and
His Glory." 137.
Give
Up at least One Bad Habit A
wicked man once went to a Guru for initiation
into spiritual life. The Guru asked him to give
up at least one of his bad habits; he gave up
uttering falsehood. That night, when he went to
the Royal Palace to commit theft, he found on
the terrace another person, who said, he too was
a thief. He too announced that he was a thief
and both broke into the treasury and divided
among themselves the diamonds found there. The
other person was none other than the king; he
pretended to be a thief and he knew where the
keys of the treasury were. While the diamonds
were shared, the honest thief felt pity for the
king of the realm who was losing his entire
stock; he asked his companion to leave one
diamond behind in the safe. And, it was done.
Next morning, when it was discovered that the
treasury was looted, the Minister was sent by
the King (who had acted as thief the previous
night) to assess the loss. The Minister found a
diamond that had missed the eyes of the thieves.
He quietly transferred it to his own pocket and
reported at court that all the diamonds were
gone! The King had got from the honest thief his
address the previous night while they parted
company, with their separate bags. So he sent
for him and when he stood in court before the
King, he confessed that all but one of the
diamonds were stolen by him and his unknown
associate. The diamond was discovered in the
pocket of the Minister and the King dismissed
him for the lie. The honest thief was appointed
Minister instead, and he gave up his other evil
habits too and pleased his Guru, by his fame as
a virtuous administrator. The
Pândavas celebrated the
As'vamedha-yajña, and as part of
that ceremony released the chosen horse so that
it may take its own course across the length and
breadth of the land. Whoever stops and binds the
horse is thereby challenging the sacrificant for
a fight; he has to win back the horse, after
defeating the audacious obstructionist.
Mayuradhvaja,
a great devotee of Krishna, a virtuous
ruler, a wise man learned in the Vedas, a
man of deep compassion, held the horse, and
Arjuna, the Pândava hero,
decided to meet him in battle. But,
Krishna advised him to desist; for, he
desired to demonstrate to Arjuna the
devotion of Mayuradhvaja which far
surpassed his own; he also desired to proclaim
to the whole world the heights that Mayuradhvaja
could reach in the realm of self-sacrifice and
truthfulness. So, He proposed that He and Arjuna
proceed to Mayuradhvaja's Palace in the
guise of a pair of brahmins, seeking a
meal. They were welcomed by the King, who
offered them rich hospitality. But, before they
could eat the very first mouthful, Krishna
stopped very dramatically and recited a tale
of woe. "Listen! O
soft-hearted Emperor! As we were coming along
through a forest on the border of your empire, a
tiger snatched away the young son of my
companion here. Before we could come up with the
beast, it had swallowed half the body; but, it
heard our piteous appeal, and promised to
release the boy, and return him alive to us,
provided it is given as substitute, one half of
the sanctifying body of the pure and holy
Emperor of the land, Mayuradhvaja. How can we
relish your hospitality with this agony in our
hearts? Promise to give the tiger half your body
in exchange for the full living body of this
brahmin boy, and then, we shall partake of your
hospitality". Mayuradhvaja agreed most gladly;
when the lunch was over, he sat on the floor and
instructed his queen and his son to saw his body
into halves. They placed
the saw on the head and began the process of
division, with the brahmins witnessing the
operation. Drops appeared in the left eye of the
King. Krishna said, "O! You are giving us
the promised gift with tears, not with unalloyed
willingness. I cannot accept anything given with
tears". But Mayuradhvaja replied, "Sir! If I am
unwilling or hesitating, both eyes should shed
tears, shouldn't they? Only the left eye is
shedding them now; and the reason is this. The
right half is being used for a highly sacred
purpose, to save a person from cruel death. But,
what will happen to the left half? Cast away, to
be eaten by dogs and vultures? So, the left half
is weeping, but, the right half is jubilant that
it is being put to some meritorious purpose". At
that moment, Krishna manifested Himself
to the great Mayuradhvaja in all His glory and
majesty; Krishna blessed the King that he
would have Him always installed in his heart and
that he would be ever blissful and content.
Arjuna too realised that there were
devotees of Krishna far more advanced
than he was. His pride was humbled.
Mayuradhvaja's humility was rewarded. Tests such as
these are evidence of grace rather than of
anger. The terrible aspect of God is not
terrible in essence. God is described in the
scriptural texts as, "Raso vai sah", He
is sweetness Itself. How can sweetness ever
become bitter? [see also 'Nectar
of Devotion'
- Chapter 46: Astonishment and
Chivalry] A
clever villager used to enter the village temple
in the early hours of the day and sit on, with
eyes closed, in the hope that people will honor
him as a great devotee. Since he did not get up
and go about his business until about midnoon,
the temple priest was hard put to it to close
the doors and go home for his daily tasks there.
So he struck upon a plan to stop the nuisance.
He knew that the closed-eye session of
dhyana was all a pretence. He hid himself
behind the idol of the deity, and when the
villager was well set in his pretence of deep
meditation, he said, in an imposing sonorous
voice, "Listen! Excellent Devotee ! I am
mightily pleased by your asceticism and your
steadfastness. Come I shall merge you into
Myself." At this, the fellow ran fast out from
the temple, leaving no trace of where he had
gone to! The devotion
and sense of surrender of men are similar to
those of this impostor. Faith is weak,
discipline is absent; earnestness is
lacking. The
armies gathered by the Kauravas from
their kingdom and from their allies were
standing face to face with the forces of their
Pândava cousins. Cavalry,
elephantry and infantry, eager to start the
destruction of the enemy, the chief actors all
accoutred and equipped for the fray! Conches
were blown; trumpets rent the sky with their
blare. The air was tense with hope, fear,
anxiety and anger. Blood in million bodies
became redder and warmer; hearts pounded
quicker: arms grasped weapons in deadly
grip. Dharmaja,
the eldest of the Pândava brothers,
suddenly, removed his footwear; he laid aside
his armor. He slid from his chariot and walked
towards the opposing cohorts, towards
Bhîshma, the Generalissimo of the
enemy forces. Duryodhana, the eldest of the
Kaurava brothers, the cousin most
responsible for the war, the unyielding opponent
of the Pândavas, saw
Dharmaja cross over to the aged
Bhîshma. He was overjoyed; he
guessed that Dharmaja had decided on
surrender for he was by mature against bloodshed
and battles. The four
brothers of Dharmaja were astounded.
Bhîshma, the redoubtable hero of a
hundred contests with the Kauravas, the
person most eager for the battle to begin, felt
foiled of victory. He recalled the many
occasions when Dharmaja had stood in the
way of revengeful action against the
Kauravas. He feared that he would
apologise and withdraw like a craven from the
bloody gamble of war. Arjuna, the
formidable bowman, witnessed his brother's
defection with horror and anger. Nakula
and Sahadeva, the twins, were struck dumb
at their helplessness. Lord
Krishna studied the situation from the seat
of the charioteer on the chariot of
Arjuna, which was in the front line of
the Pândava army. He signed to the
four of them to follow their eldest brother and
do likewise. He said, "All these years you have
revered him, and trod on his footsteps. Do so
now. Do not hesitate; do not doubt."
Dharmaja was the very embodiment of
Dharma, he knew the right and he
practised it whatever the consequences. He
knew that Dharma will guard those who follow
Dharma. He never did a hypocritical or a
non-vedic act; he never took a wrong step. He
went straight to Bhîshma and fell
at his feet. Standing before him with folded
hands and bowed head, he prayed, "Grandfather!
We had no chance to experience the love of the
father; he passed away too soon. You brought us
up from infancy with love and care, and made us
what we are today. We have no right to fight
against you; but, fate has conspired to bring us
now into battle with you. Please have mercy on
us; permit us to raise our arms against you."
Bhîshma
was naturally charmed and overjoyed at the
humility and righteousness of Dharmaja;
his eyes were filled with tears at the strange
turn that destiny had taken; he blessed him and
said, 'Dharmaja! You have stuck to
Dharma in spite of the temptations this
situation has placed before you. What a noble
example you have set before the world! This
Dharma that you follow will itself give
you victory." Next,
Dharmaja and the brothers moved towards
General Drona, the Brahmin
Preceptor, who had taught archery to both
the Kauravas and their cousins, the
Pândavas. Dharmaja fell at
his feet too and prayed "Highly revered
Preceptor! We five are your pupils; how can we
rightfully take up arms against our Preceptor?
The times have indeed gone awry. Pardon us for
this wrong. Permit us to engage with you in
battle". Drona the
âcârya, was visibly moved by
this appeal. "Ah! How great and good, this
Dharmaja is! Even at this moment when the
hounds of war are to be let loose to spread
death and fury, he is sticking to the dictates
of Dharma!" Drona was thrilled at
the thought. He clasped Dharmaja in his
arms and said "Son! You are dearer to me than
As'vatthâmâ, for I am drawn
to him only by duty, whereas I am drawn to you
by love. You are all my sons, for, I love you as
such. Your Right will certainly earn victory
over might. It is this
adherence to Dharma that ensured their
victory. Shower
ânanda on others; lead them along
the godly way; be an example in sincerity and
earnestness. Partake in Bhajan and
Namasankîrtana; have share in the
singing, loudly and with enthusiasm. Some ask
me, "Why should we sing aloud? Isn't it enough
if we feel it in the silence of the mind?" This
is mere dry Vedanta! They are prepared to
advise others in the samithi, but, are
unwilling to practise the advice themselves! Two
friends were remarkable for their sloth; one of
them had to catch a train at 3 A.M. So, he asked
his friend to wake him up at 2.30 A.M. for he
had no faith in himself. The friend was even
more of a sloth! He wanted that he should be
awakened by his friend at 2.15 A.M. so that he
could wake the same fellow at 2.30! How can
anything be accomplished by such men? S'iva
is the supreme exemplar of serenity!
S'iva according to the
Purânas, has a curious assortment
of family members. Yet, each one is so calm and
without agitation, that the Divine Family exists
in peace and concord. S'iva has snakes on
His arms, round His neck, on His head, around
His waist! One of His sons, Kumara rides
on a peacock, which attacks snakes;
another rides on a mouse, which the
snakes feed on! One son has the head of the
elephant, which whets the appetite of
the lion, which is the vehicle used by
Dûrga, the consort of S'iva,
who is so inseparable that she is the left half
of the body of S'iva Himself. Nor is the
lion friendly by nature to the
bull, which Lord S'iva Himself has
as His vehicle! S'iva has fire on
the central point of His brow, and water
(the river Ganges) on His head -
incompatibles both! Imagine how loving, how
cooperative the various components have to be to
render life on Kailas smooth and
happy? It all depends
on the mind and its proper discipline. The
weapon of love will disarm every
opponent. Love begets love. It
will be reflected back, it will have only
love as reaction. Shout 'Love'; the echo
from the other person's heart will also be
'Love'. Once
it happened that Krishna,
Balarâm and Satyaki who were
quite little boys at that time, scarce four or
five years old, strayed into a thick jungle, all
alone, when darkness fell, and there was no way
of reaching Gokulam! Of course, as you
must have guessed already, it was a stratagem of
Krishna; even at that age, he would do nothing
without a deep purpose behind it and the purpose
would invariably be teaching some one some good
lesson. They decided to spend the night, just
where they were; Krishna put fright into them
with his descriptions of ghosts, ghouls and
demons roaming in search of human prey. He
proposed that two shall sleep for three hours at
a stretch while the other one kept
watch. It
was Krishna's duty to keep awake and be on the
lookout from 7 to 10; Satyaki was to be
vigilant from 10 to 1 A. M. and
Balarâma was to start his part of
the duty at 1 and keep on till 4. Satyaki sat up
at 10 and Balarâma and Krishna laid
themselves on beds of dried leaves and slept
soundly. Meanwhile a demon did actually present
himself before the little Satyaki. He
fell upon the boy, who resisted heroically,
dealing and receiving hammerstrokes with fists
with a good number of clawing and biting in
between. The demon had to retreat at last,
leaving Satyaki badly mauled, but happy.
The two brothers were sound asleep; they had not
been disturbed in the least by noise of the
encounter. Satyaki had met blow with
blow, and dealt injury for injury. At 1, he
awakened Balarâma and stretched his
body on the heap of leaves, as if nothing had
happened. The demon invited Balarâma
too for combat and had to retreat
humiliated, because Balarâma too
was as fierce as he, and his blows were even
more terrible than Satyaki's.
Balarâma too curled himself into
the bed at 4 A. M., after waking up
Krishna who was to keep watch in
Brahmâ-muhûrta,
the auspicious hour when Gods are to be
propitiated, that is, until dawn. The
demon came roaring like a wounded tiger, and
advanced ferociously at the little Divine Boy.
Krishna turned his sweet charming face at
him, arid rewarded him with a lovely smile. That
smile disarmed the demon;
the
longer he came under its influence, the weaker
became his vengeance and venom. At last, the
demon became as docile as a lamb; when the other
two woke, they were surprised at the victory
that Krishna had won by the weapon of Love.
You cannot destroy anger by anger, cruelty by
cruelty, hatred by hatred. Anger can be subdued
only by forbearance; cruelty can be overcome
only by non-violence, hatred yields only to
charity and compassion. Bhîshma
was a mighty warrior; he was famous for the
grandeur and glory that he won, through both
detachment and divine grace. In the vicinity of
his kingdom, Bhîshma once had to
encounter a person called Cakradhara.
This man had undergone severe austerity and
received from God as a reward for pleasing Him,
an invincible discus (cakra, wheel), so
people hailed him as Cakradhara, the
wielder of the divine wheel-weapon! The fellow
had become so insolent and wicked that he wrote
a most insulting missive to
Bhîshma, on the death of
Shantanu, Bhîshma's father.
Cakradhara wrote, "Either send the
widowed queen to my palace-zenana or meet me in
battle"! Who could tolerate such insults and
keep quiet? It is said that everyone has to
guard dharani (land), dharma
(faith) and dharmapathni (wife).
Bhîshma
said to himself. "What is my life worth if I
cannot avenge this insult, if I cannot save my
mother's honor?" But, the brahmins of the
court advised him that he should engage himself
in combat with Cakradhara, only after ten
days; for, during the ten-day-period after the
death of his father, he had ceremonial pollution
and during that period, he should not handle the
divine missiles he had with him. He could not
utter then, the holy mantras which can activise
them. "Finish the religious rites to appease the
departed soul of your father and then, destroy
the foe in battle", they advised. Bhîshma
realised the propriety of their counsel and sent
a message to Cakradhara, inviting him for
the fray ten days later! But,
Cakradhara could not delay that long: he
was itching for victory; he directed his newly
won weapon at Bhîshma! But, a
wonderful thing happened! That cakra
which had come from the hand of God would not
harm a son who was doing his scriptural duty,
performing the Vedic rites for the manes!
It rotated in the sky for ten days, waiting for
the funeral-pollution period to end! [see
also S.B. 9.4
& 9.5
& Cakra-calendar] When one is
devoted to his duty, one is surrounded by such
powerful protecting influences that no injurious
force dare approach. That is the way Grace
operates. Personal skill when reinforced by
Divine Grace can work wonders, as
happened when the horde of monkeys successfully
built a bridge for Lord Râma across
the sea to Lankâ [see for this story
Ramkatha
Rasavahini 7] There
is the story of a young man who was riding a
cycle on a dark night along a crowded road; the
policeman on duty asked him to stop and alight,
for, he had no lamp on his cycle. The fellow,
however, shouted, "policeman, keep away, of
course, I have no lamp; but, beware, I have no
brake, either!" That is the pathetic
condition of everyone now. No one has the lamp
of wisdom, or the brake of sense-control. How
then can they go along the road to
Ânanda, without causing injury to
themselves or others? The cyclist must have
both; man too has need of wisdom and
self-control. Or else, he is certain to ruin
this chance he has got, to save
himself. When
you speak with the tongue or see with the eye,
or plan with the brain, who is it that speaks,
sees, judges and decides? It is the One
Intelligence, the One that, like a current works
in and through all men and materials, God. When
you are immersed in Bhajan, note who the
One is activating you! Your tongue pronounces
the words in the tune designed for them; your
palms beat the time; slow or fast; your head
sways in unison with the sentiments that the
words express; your mind is gushing
Ânanda, at the magnificance of the
pictures that the song evokes. So too, a dancer
is articulating harmony and melody through every
gesture and movement of muscle and limb. But,
all the activity originates from a common
source, God, who is resident as President in the
heart. When he is ignored, neglected, or denied,
there is no joy for you or through you for
others. You are either thamasic-dull,
inert, or rajasic, passionate, fanatic,
but not satvic-pure, balanced, serene!
God is All.
He is all Forms, His are all Names. There is
no place where He is not; no moment when He is
not! (even the devil has the syllable
dev, to indicate his affinity). Thunder is
God's message; the rain is His Grace. Let no
second pass without awareness of God; let no
event lapse without reminding you that He is the
artificer! You have an image or picture in the
room you have set apart for worshipping God. You
light a lamp before it! You say, 'I have lit the
lamp'; but, is it you really? Who endowed the
oil, the wick, and the lamp, the property of
producing a flame together? Who moved you to
revere the picture in this form? Who was it that
placed the lamp, lit it and bowed before the
picture? It is all God, God, God. There is none
else, nothing else, for the man who knows and
feels. Brahmâ-muhûrta:
period of one to one and a half hour before the
(mean time of) sunrise. Time most suitable for
meditation. |