In2-MeC

IBSA (ISKCON Bhaktivedanta Sadhana Asrama), Govardhana, India
21 January 2004

AN IN2-MEC EXCLUSIVE--PHOTOS FROM MARS!

Here's What You See on TV,
as Broadcast to Earth from NASA's "Spirit" Rover

Here's What You DON'T See on TV

SRI GARGA-SAMHITA

Canto Three

SRI GIRIRAJA

Chapter Ten

Sri Giriraja-Mahatmya
The Glory of Sri Giriraja

TEXT 1

Sri Narada said: This is the most ancient history of Goloka. When one hears it, all his sins are destroyed.

TEXT 2

One day, in order to repay the debt he owed the sages and ancestors, a certain brahmana named Vijaya went to Mathura, the holy place that removes all sins.

TEXT 3

O king of Mithila, after performing his religious duties, he went to Govardhana Hill and took one of the stones there.

TEXT 4

Going in a leisurely way from forest to forest, he finally left the cirlce of Vraja. At that moment he saw a horrible raksasa monster approaching.

TEXT 5

The monster had three heads, three chests, six arms, six legs, three hands, huge lips and a huge nose. His hands were raised in the air.

TEXT 6

His seven-hands-long tongue moved to and fro, the hairs of his body were like a tangle of thorns, his eyes were red and he had long, curved, frightening fangs.

TEXT 7

O king, wishing to eat him, the snorting monster approached the brahmana.

TEXT 8

With his Govardhana-stone the brahmana struck the monster. Hit by the Govardhana-stone, the monster gave up his body.

TEXT 9 AND 10

Suddenly transformed into a handsome dark person with large lotus-petal eyes, dressed in yellow garments, garlanded with forest flowers, wearing a crown and earrings, holding a flute and stick, glorious as another Kamadeva and his features like those of Lord Krsna, with folded hands he bowed before the brahmana again and again.

TEXT 11

The liberated soul said: O best of brahmanas, you earnestly work for the salvation of others. O noble-hearted one, you have rescued me from a monster's life.

TEXT 12

Good fortune has come to me simply by the touch of this stone. No one but you could have delivered me.

TEXT 13

The brahmana said: I am astonished by your words. I have no power to deliver you. I don't know how, simply by a stone's touch, this has happened. O saintly one, please tell me how this happened.

TEXT 14

The liberated soul said: Glorious Govardhana Hill, the king of mountains, is the person form of Lord Krsna. Simply by seeing it, a person attains the supreme goal of life.

TEXT 15

By seeing Govardhana Hill one attains a pious result many millions of times greater than the result of a pilgrimage of Mount Gandhanmadana.

TEXT 16

O brahmana, the same result one attains by performing austerities for five thousand years on Mount Kedara is attained in a single moment on Govardhana Hill.

TEXT 17

By staying for one month on Govardhana Hill one attains a pious result many millions of times greater than the result of giving in charity a bhara of gold in the Malaya Hills.

TEXT 18

Even though he has committed hundreds of sins, a person who on Mount Mangala gives gold in charity attains a spiritual form like Lord Vishnu's.

TEXT 19

That same result is attained simply by seeing Govardhana Hill. No other holy place is as sacred as Govardhana Hill.

TEXT 20 AND 21

O brahmana, simply by visiting Govardhana Hill one attains piety a hundred thousand times greater than the piety he would attain if on the sacred mountains Rsabha, Kutaka and Kolaka he had worshiped many brahmanas and given in charity ten million cow s with golden horns.

TEXT 22 AND 23

By going on pilgrimage to Govardhana Hill one attains piety ten million times greater than the piety he would attain by going on pilgrimage to Rsyamuka or Devagiri. There never was, nor will there ever be a holy place equal to Govardhana Hill.

TEXT 24 AND 25

By bathing every day for ten years in Vidyadhara-kunda on Sri Saila, one attains the result of a hundred yajnas. By once bathing in Puccha-kunda on Govardhana Hill one attains the result of ten million yajnas. Of this there is no doubt.

TEXT 26 AND 27

A person who performs an asvamedha-yajna on the mountains Venkata, Varidhara, Mahendra, or Vindhya, attains the post of King Indra. A person who performs an asvamedha-yajna on Govardhana Hill and gives proper daksina goes beyond the realm of Indra an d attains the abode of Lord Visnu.

TEXT 28 -30

O best of brahmanas, bathing in sacred rivers, giving charity, performing pious deeds, all these performed during Sri Rama-navami on Mount Citrakuta, during the third day of Visakha on Pariyatra, during the full-moon on Mount Kukura, during Dvadasi on Mount Nila, or during Saptami at Indrakila bring a great pious result. That pious result is multiplied ten million times by visiting Bharata-varsa. It is multiplied unlimited times by visiting Govardhana Hill.

TEXT 31 - 37

By giving charity, performing austerities, bathing in sacred rivers, chanting sacred mantras or worshiping the brahmanas and the Supreme Personality of Godhead at the Godavari, Mount Simha, Mayapuri, Kumbhaga, Puskara, Pusyanaksatra, Kuruksetra, Ravi -graha, Candra-graha, Kasi, Phalguna, Naimisa, Ekadasi, Sukara, Kartiki, Ganamuktida, Janmastami, Madhupuri, khandava, Dvadasi, Kartiki, Purnima, Vatesvara-maha-vata, Makararka, Prayaga, Barhismati, Vaidhrti, Ayodhya-sarayu-tira, Sri Rama- navami-dina , Siva-caturdasi, vaijanatha-subha-vana, Darsa, Soma-vara, Ganga-sagara-sangama, Dasami, Setubandha, Sri Ranga or Saptami-dina, one attains a great pious result. O best of brahmanas, by visiting Govardhana Hill one attains a pious result ten million times greater than all those pious deeds together.

TEXT 38

One who, thinking of Lord Krsna, bathes in sacred Govinda-kunda, attains a transcendental form like Lord Krsna's. O king of Mithila, of this there is no doubt.

TEXT 39

Neither a thousand asvamedha-yajnas nor a hundred rajasuya-yajnas are equal to visiting Manasa-ganga on Govardhana Hill.

TEXT 40

O brahmana, you have directly seen and touched Govardhana Hill. You have bathed in its sacred waters. In this world no one is more fortunate than you.

TEXT 41

If you don't believe my words, consider the story of the great sinner who, because he was touched by a Govardhana-stone, attained a transcendental form like Lord Krsna's.

Chapter Eleven

Sri Giriraja-Prabhava
The Power of Sri Giriraja

TEXT 1

Sri Narada said: When he heard the liberated soul's words, the brahmana became struck with wonder. Then he asked another question of the liberated soul, who knew the power and glory of Govardhana Hill.

TEXT 2

The brahmana said: Who were you in your previous birth? What sin did you commit. O fortunate one, you have spiritual eyes to see all this directly.

TEXT 3

The liberated soul said: In my previous birth I was a wealthy vaisya's son. From childhood I was a compulsive gambler. I became a great rake.

TEXT 4

I became a drunkard addicted to chasing prostitutes. O brahmana, my father, mother and wife rebuked me again and again.

TEXT 5

Then one day with poison I killed my parents and with a sword I killed my wife on a pathway.

TEXT 6

Then I took all their money and went with my prostitute beloved to the south, where I became a merciless thief.

TEXT 7

One day I threw the prostitute into a blind well and left her there to die. Indeed, with ropes I killed many hundreds of people as I robbed them.

TEXT 8

O brahmana, I was so greedy after money that as a highwayman I murdered many hundreds of brahmanas and many thousands of ksatriyas, vaisyas and sudras.

TEXT 9

One day, as I was hunting deer in the forest, I stepped on a snake. The snake bit me and I died.

TEXT 10

Fearsome Yamadutas beat me with terrible clubs, tied me up and dragged me, a great sinner, to hell.

TEXT 11

I fell into the terrible hell named Kumbhipaka and I stayed there for a manvantara. For a kalpa I was forced to embrace the red-hot iron statue of a woman. I, a great sinner, suffered greatly.

TEXT 12

By the desire of Yamaraja I was thrown into eight million four-hundred thousand different hells.

TEXT 13

Then my karma took me to Bharata-varsa. For ten births I was a pig and for a hundred births I was a tiger.

TEXT 14

For a hundred births I was a camel. For another hundred births I was a buffalo. For a thousand births I was a snake. Wicked men killed me again and again.

TEXT 15

O brahmana, after ten thousand years of these births I was born in a desert as a grotesque and wicked monster.

TEXT 16

One day I assumed the form of a sudra and I went to Vraja. I came near to Vrndavana and the sacred Yamuna.

TEXT 17

With sticks in their hands, some of Lord Krsna's handsome friends beat me severly and I fled from the land of Vraja.

TEXT 18

Hungry for many days, I came here to eat you. Then you hit me with a stone from Govardhana Hill.

TEXT 19

Then, by Lord Krsna's kindness, I became very fortunate.

TEXT 20

Sri Narada said: As the liberated soul was speaking these words, a chariot, splendid as a thousand suns and drawn by ten thousand horses, came from Goloka.

TEXT 21

The chariot rumbled with a thousand wheels. It was decorated with a hundred thousand associates of the Lord. It had a great network of bells and tinkling ornaments. It was extremely beautiful.

TEXT 22

As the brahmana looked one, the chariot approached. The brahmana and the liberated soul bowed down before the chariot.

TEXT 23

Climbing the chariot and at that moment losing all interest in his heart to stay in the material world, the liberated soul went to Sri Krsna's beautiful abode, graceful with many pastime gardens, the highest of all spiritual realms.

TEXT 24

Then the brahmana returned to Govardhana Hill, the Deity worshiped by the kings of mountains. Circumambulating the hill, bowing down before it and now aware of its great power and glory, the brahmana went to his home.

TEXT 25

Now I have spoken to you the glorious Sri Giriraja-khanda, which brings liberation. Anyone, even if he is very sinful, who hears this khanda, will never see fearsome Yamaraja, even in a dream.

TEXT 26

One who hears the glories of Govardhana Hill, glories that are filled with the secrets of Lord Krsna's ever-new transcendental pastimes, will become as fortunate as King Indra in this life and as fortunate as King Nanda in the next.

Sketches of a Devotee's Pre-Krsna Conscious Life in India

Back in the late 1980's I tape-recorded a series of interesting stories told me by an Indian devotee, whom I shall not name to protect his privacy. These stories relate his life as a young man from a South Indian smarta brahmin family, and trace how he gradually turned away from material life to Krsna consciousness. What you will read below begins after he departed South India.

I traveled north to Delhi, leaving the south and its odd gods--Sai Baba, Amma and Bala Yogi-- behind. I stayed two weeks in India's capital. Little of note happened, except that I attended an outdoor program at which a bearded ex-university instructor who now called himself Acarya Rajneesh gave a talk to a crowd of "up-to-date" Indians mingled with a good number of Westerners. At the end he got everyone to dance crazily to rock 'n' roll music that blared from the stage out of enormous loudspeakers. For all that, Rajneesh singularly failed to impress me. I begged a train ticket from the Delhi stationmaster for passage to Rishikesh. Arriving there I went straight to the Shivananda Ashrama, or as it is otherwise known, The Divine Life Society.

A view of the bridge over the Ganges River at the holy city of Rishikesh.

In Salem I'd become friendly with the head of the small Shivananda Yoga Mission. The library was well-stocked with books on spiritual philosophy. I read a volume by Shivananda that seemed to speak directly to me. "The Rishis are beckoning us, this day," he wrote, "to start for Rishikesh, the center of the sages. Come, meditate on the rocks, take bath in the Ganga, gaze at the holy peaks. . . "

However, once I'd arrived at Rishikesh I didn't feel a great deal of welcome at the Divine Life Society, the headquarters of Shivananda's mission. They gave me three days stay with three meals each day free of charge, which was very nice of them. But I was looking less for a place to eat and sleep and more for personal guidance in spiritual life. What I found was a busy kitchen, a busy office, a busy printing press, and four general meditation classes a day.

In the evening satsang was held. All the sannyasis came to this gathering: Swami Krishnananda, the general secretary, Swami Premananda, the ashram commander, Swami Shankarananda, the philosopher, Swami Bhuvananda, and Swami Devananda. Morning and evening, Shankarananda gave Kenopanishad class.

On the third day I was able to meet Swami Shankarananda and put some questions before him. He warned me about my interest in clairvoyance, mystic powers and so on. "It is an impediment," he said. "I almost went mad from it himself. " He advised me to meditate with concentration, to engage my senses in active work and not be idle and speculative.

"We are very close to the Himalayas," he told me. "There are many renounced people in these environs who are adept in yoga and mediation, and some of them influence neophytes who dabble in meditation for their own purposes. These adepts can take control of the minds of the neophytes and divert them from the true path. You have to be very careful about slipping onto the mental plane. Select your path carefully. Take a mantra. Take austerity. Do regular meditational exercises. Find a path suitable for you. Find a guru. "

"Why don't you be my guru, Swamiji?" I asked.

He held out both his palms for me to see, as if to show he held nothing in them. "I am too busy. I must concentrate my energy on writing and lecturing. And what other time I have I spend in meditation--which even includes cutting sabji two hours daily as part of my sadhana. Look, why don't you go talk to Swami Premananda about this?"

Swami Premananda wore his hair and beard long and liked shiny silk saffron cloth. When I asked him if I could become his disciple, his smile was quick and bright. It was more illuminating than what he told me.

"I know what you want. You seek to find yourself by becoming part of a spiritual assembly. " He looked at me closely as if to take me into his confidence. "You know, Kannan, years ago our Shivananda formed an institution up here that he called the Bharata Sadhu Samaja (Society of Sadhus in India). At its high point it boasted 7000 members. But real sadhus refused to join. Perhaps they thought Shivananda was trying to form a political union. No, he just wanted cooperation between genuine sadhus to weed out the criminal element. Did you know that many criminals come up here and take the dress of sadhus? So you see, you have to be very, very careful. Don't set your mind on 'joining' a group. It is very easy to fall in with the wrong people. "

"Yes," I replied, "and that is why I am coming to you--Swami Premananda. Never mind what others may or may not be doing, you are a sadhu, so there's no doubt you can help me. "

Premananda nodded his head from side to side, his eyes twinkling. "Fair enough. I may be a sadhu, but you are still very young. You should see more yogis and visit other groups. Have you been to Badrinatha?"

"No. "

"Ah, then just walk up there! By the time you get back, you'll be a sadhu even if you don't want to be one. That is how I became a sadhu. "

"But Swamiji, I think I need guidance. In the past I had some very strange experiences with tantra and such things. For a couple of years now I often find my brain awash in powerful thought waves that come from. . . well, I don't know where they come from. Sometimes I fear I'm losing my mind. "

"Yes, yes, that's what it's all about!" he asserted. "Meditation means you have to face such psychic disturbances, tolerate them, and at last when you reach a point where the disturbances don't bother you, then you stay on that point. That is when you've found your path. "

"But Swamiji, you have this organization. What is it for if not to help a person like me? I've read all of Shivananda's books. He says that everything is here--organization, food, a place to stay, classes, association. He says we don't have to wander around and eat dry leaves. "

"Yes, well, it was like that once," said Premananda a little philosophically. "But now it's become too institutionalized. If it comes to be known that I talked with you for 45 minutes, I may be reprimanded for not doing my regular work. Previously Shivananda used to spend hours and hours preaching to the young sadhus, but now we are given schedules we have to follow. I have a time sheet to keep. And what's more, even if you do stay here, there's no future for you. All the positions are taken up, and new people are not wanted. You seem to be a sincere boy--why don't you just walk: go to Deva Prayaga, Vashishta Gufa, Rudra Prayaga, so many holy places are nearby in these glorious mountains. Spend the next one fourth of your life on pilgrimage. Don't stay anywhere long. When you're gone through that, you'll be a mature fruit. "

Premananda was the ashram commander, so from him I got an extension on my stay--three days more. On the fifth day, as I was on my way to the dining hall, Swami Bhuvananda informed me that Swami Krishnananda, the General Secretary, had called for me. En route to Swami Krishnananda's office I met a one-eyed Gujarati vanaprastha with a scraggly beard and matted locks. He used to talk to me before meals, if only to remind me that so many young men ran away from home every year and headed to the Himalayas. Almost none stayed, as they could not find what they were looking for. Old One-Eye was a sort of "no-hope" type, but I found his ironical observations rather amusing, in spite of myself.

Giving me a knowing look, Old One-Eye fell in beside me. "Now your time here is over. He'll tell you you have to leave the ashram. That's why he's called you. Twenty years ago he did the same to me. But as you see, you find me every day at the dining hall during meals. That is only because Shivananda gave written instructions that until I die I can eat here. "

"What should I do?"

"Just look on other side of Mother Ganga. " His arm swept the riverscape that was crowded with the towers of temples and ashrams. "So many many societies for yoga and meditation. You came to this particular one because you're from Tamil Nadu and have heard about Shivananda, himself a Tamil. But the same misguidance you get here you can get in all those other places. "

As we arrived at the entrance to the office he said wryly, "I'll leave you here," and turned back toward the dining hall. I entered and offered full dandavats to Swami Krishnananda who sat on a mat on the floor behind a low table. As I stood up I pressed my palms together in pranams and intoned "Hari Om. "

He glared at me without answering. I found not a trace of sympathy in his face. I imagined him with his neck in a military collar and his shoulders pinned with brass stars.

After several seconds of cold silence he said, "What is it--first three days, then six, and still more time after that? Do you think this place is a a dharamshalla? This is an ashrama meant for serious people who practice sadhana. "

"Swamiji, I am ready to do any sadhana you give me. I've read all of Shivananda's books. I am attracted to this way of life. I've come here only for that--for spiritual life. I used to work in TVS. I had a good position, but I gave it up for finding God. Please take me. I'll do anything. I can do office work. Any service. "

"I see. You were with TVS?"

I saw some hope in his seeming change of demeanor at the mention of my former place of work, a company founded by a South Indian brahmin that was respected all over India. "Yes, Swami Maharaja. I worked in the accounting department. "

His next words seem to pounce upon me from out of his mouth. "So why don't you go back there?"

"Oh, no. I am not going back to that life. I couldn't bear it. "

"You think this is a place for people who give up their jobs?"

"But in his books Shivananda invites us to do that: to come here to holy Rishikesh, study the Vedas, practice yoga. That is why I am here. I am young, ready to work. Just take me and make what you want out of me. "

Krishnananda held up a hand like a policeman halting a car on the road. "These past five days I've been watching you. It is my responsibility to judge who is fit for ashrama life and who isn't. You just talk, talk, talk all day and are clearly averse to work. Do something useful with your life. Go back to TVS! And know this: no matter what you do, from this afternoon onward you'll get nothing more to eat at this ashrama. Be sensible. Leave here. Now. "

At that moment a rich family arrived at his door. In an instant Krishnananda's face changed from a frown to a smile. As he welcomed them he said gently, "This holy place is a shelter. " He exchanged warm talks with them for a while; at the end the father of the family wrote out a check. Accepting it graciously, the swami lifted his cloth to reveal his feet, which they thankfully touched.

As the family left, I followed them out, not bothering to speak another word to Krishnananda. I sought several persons to say goodbye to, including the one-eyed man. I found him talking to an old man with a swollen leg. I sat down inbetween them. Old One-Eye asked me, "So what did the Kannada say? He won't take Tamils, I know. "

"He didn't say anything about Tamil or Kannada, but he wants me to leave. "

"That is because he sees you are intelligent. If you join here, maybe in five-six years you'll be sitting in his place. He won't let people move up. That's why I left the railway. They wouldn't let me move up. Here it's the same thing. Just go to the Paramartha Niketan ashrama, or Gita Bhavan, or there are so many others. What do you want, anyway? You want to stay up here the rest of your life and not work hard, isn't it?" He darted a look at the old man and they both laughed. I smiled, feeling slightly foolish. But I spoke bravely what I thought my mission in life was.

"No, it's not a question of avoiding work, it's a question of what work. I want spiritual work. "

"Work and spiritual? There is no such thing. Spiritual means you tell others what to do. Go around, see all those ashrams, and tell me if it is not so. "

I knew his cynicism was as much a cover for his own failings as it was a jab at the failings of others. But I laughed anyway. Laughing helped me slough off the words Krishnananda told me. Had I thought over what he said, I would have had to confront the memory of my deceased father, who one fine day, when I was very young, abandoned the family with the intention of joining the Divine Life Mission and becoming a swami. Shivananda himself turned him away, classing my father as "unfit. " After that, for a while he even took to living in a cave. In this way a few months passed before he suddenly returned home. Near the end of his life, bedridden with illness, my father kept a sign on the wall above his head: "Unfit. "

Was I here in Rishikesh only to make the same mistake he did? I didn't want to think about it. Without admitting it to myself, I was glad Old One-Eye was running down Swami Krishnananda. It gave me an "out. " Laughing at the swami behind his back spared me from having to look deeper into my heart than I wanted to see.

In any case, this is how it developed that I came to Paramartha Niketana on the other side of the Ganges. There were sheds along the riverbank for sadhus to sleep in; I started using one. If you've got no luggage--and I had none--it wasn't bad. Mosquitos and many other bugs were your bedmates, but that is part of the life.

I took bath in Ganga daily and chanted Vishnu Sahashra Nama afterward. I studied the eleventh chapter of Bhagavad Gita. . . which meant I would think this river is Krishna, the mountains are Krishna. Such were my speculations on how everything is Brahman. In the library of Paramartha Niketana I read many books on advaita philosophy. Daily several lectures were held in the ashrama, and I attended them all.

When I wasn't sleeping, bathing, eating, studying, listening to lectures and trying to meditate, I walked. I walked all around Rishikesh and gradually became known to the residents as "the walking Madrasiwalla. "

From my exploration of the town and all its ashramas, I concluded I would like best to stay at Gita Bhavan. A well-known yogi who came from a cave in Mount Abu was visiting there at the time. He taught me tratak, a meditation upon fire, moon and the sun.

Once, as he was explaining kundalini yoga to me, he had me sit in lotus asana. He then said, "Hold your breath" as he touched my navel with his ring finger. Then he advised me to exhale slowly and meditate. I was to keep meditating and breathing in and out very slowly for 15 minutes. I did so, and just as a quarter of an hour passed I fell instantly into unconsciousness.

When I came to my senses he was not in the room. I discovered I had been "out" for two hours. Feeling strangely purified, I walked out of the room and found the yogi giving a lecture. His method was to explain everything in the light of yoga. He ridiculed those who say yoga is not for this age. All holy men, he claimed, no matter what their path was, were advanced in Kundalini. He said Shivananda's shakti went up to "artha," therefore he did welfare work. Somebody else's went up to his svadhishthan-chakra, that's why he wrote books. And so on.

I considered asking if he would accept me as his disciple, but before I worked up the courage this yogi returned to Mount Abu. And so I moved out of the Gita Bhavan and gradually passed through 24 ashramas. In each I lived a few days. Once during this time I met Swami Krishnananda as he walked through the streets of Rishikesh with two other sannyasis. Seeing me, he marveled, "Are you still here?" I nodded and told him I'd been moving from ashrama to ashrama. A shadow of annoyance crossed his face. "You're wasting your life up here," he snorted. "You should have done what I told you and gone back to TVS. " As he stalked off with his two companions he urged me, "Do something useful!" I offered pranams and murmured "Hari Om. "

A few days later Vishvaguru Munishanandaji Maharaja arrived from Gujarat. He was a bigger name than the yogi from Mount Abu. Large crowds gathered to hear him speak, including the leading sadhus of other ashrams--except for the Shivananda ashrama. Munishananda was like a pope of yoga and advaita philosophy in Gujarat, Rajasthan and Punjab. In these parts of India he had achieved a level of "automatic importance" like that of the Kanchi Shankaracharya, whom I'd met in Kerala.

Munishananda taught dhyana yoga and standard Mayavadi philosophy. There was no doubt he was blessed with a natural aptitude for the physical exertions of yoga. He had such control over his abdominal muscles that he could roll his stomach about, a feat he often showed off during his lectures.

I got an audience with him at which I requested to be admitted to his Rishikesh ashram as a student. "What are you practicing?" he asked me.

I mentioned two routines I'd learned from the Mount Abu yogi, which were yoni mudra and tratak. He chuckled. "That's no practice. Do you meditate?"

"Yes. "

"On what?"

"Well, when I stay next to the Ganges, I meditate upon her--the river's cycle, how she comes from ocean and returns to the ocean. . . "

He gave me a sharp look. "Ganga-devi doesn't come from the ocean. She comes from Vishnu's feet!"

I apologized and explained that I wasn't experienced. "With your permission, I ought to stay here in your ashrama and learn from you. "

"You've seen my demonstration of yoga techniques?"

"Yes, but I don't think I could ever go far in that direction. I heard you say in your lecture that these things only concern the body. My interest is to master things of the spirit. "

"Very good. That you should do. It means dhyana, meditation, and I do teach that. But you have to be fixed up to learn it. I observe restlessness in you. That will never do. But listen--I'm leaving here and will return in two months. If you are still in Rishikesh when I get back, I'll teach you. In the meantime you should attend our world peace prayer at the ashrama two times a day. "

I had seen that. The ashramites gathered at these sessions to shout "Vishva ki! Kalyana Ho!" over and over.

"Prayer cleanses the heart," Munishananda continued. "Do that daily and go on with your pranayam, your yoni mudra and tratak. " He stayed three days more, during which time I attended the private meditation sessions he held for his four disciples. We sat in padmasana with closed eyes. After a while I'd peep to see what was going on around me. I saw that his disciples were also peeping. But Munishananda seemed fully absorbed in his practice. He was an extraordinary man, no doubt. He spoke four languages and quoted Sanskrit extensively in his lectures. None of this he'd learned in an academic institution. His self-education was another proof that this was not his first lifetime as a spiritual teacher.

"With the arrow of Om," he would say, "you should shoot the pranava (breath), and kill the mind. " On the last day of his stay I got another audience with him. I told him about the particular problems I had with my mind, the subtle influences that I often felt.

"Look," he said, frankly but not unkindly, "you won't obtain your spiritual life in Himalayas no matter what you do. "

"But. . . but why?"

"I want you to do one thing after I've gone. I want you to go to Neelkanth Mahadev. You'll see yourself what spiritual life in the Himalayas means. "

Neelkanth Mahadev is a holy place above Rishikesh. I vowed to Munishananda I would follow his instruction. And I did.

<< Back