SADHUS: HOLY MEN OF INDIA - KUMBHA MELA
Gathered by Bos Arant
by Dolf Hartsuiker, author of the book "Sadhus, Holy Men of India". ISBN 0-500-27735-4. Pub. 1993 by Thames & Hudson.
30-34 Bloomsbury Street. London WC1B 3QP. UK. tel. ++44 171 636 5488. fax ++44 636 4799.
American version. Sadhus, India's Mystic Holy Men ISBN 0-89281-454-3. Published by Inner Traditions. tel ++1 802 767-3174
For comments: dolfhart@knoware.nl http://utopia.knoware.nl/users/dolfhart/index.html
Indice
La via della Montagna - Al di là delle scritture. Ramana Maharshi
Vol. 1- Gennaio 1964- n. 1. di T. N. Krishnaswami
Una comunicazione speciale al di là delle scritture;
nessuna dipendenza da parole o lettere;
puntare direttamente al cuore dell’uomo;
scrutare nella propria natura e ottenere la Liberazione.
Queste sono le riflessioni di un viaggiatore sulla Via della Montagna concepito da Maharshi.
La dottrina senza parole di Maharshi è diversa dagli insegnamenti soliti. Non ci sono credi da elaborare, perciò non c’è bisogno di prediche. Non c’è niente da teorizzare per la mente o da filosofeggiare. Ciò che è necessario è la comprensione immediata e intuitiva che parte dal cuore. "Si dice che l’intricato labirinto della filosofia delle varie scuole chiarisca gli argomenti e sveli la Verità, ma di fatto crea confusione laddove non è necessario. Per capire qualsiasi cosa ci deve essere il Sé. Il Sé è ovvio. Quindi, perché non limitarsi al Sé? Che bisogno c’è di spiegare il non-Sé?" (1)
Ciò che deve fare il ricercatore è piuttosto disimparare e lasciar andare le sue idee preconcette sul Sé. Infatti, è noto che Maharshi afferma che, alla fine, bisogna abbandonare e disimparare anche le scritture. "Tutte le scritture senza eccezioni proclamano che, per ottenere la salvezza, la mente deve essere sottomessa. E quando si sa che il loro scopo finale è il controllo della mente, è inutile intraprendere il loro interminabile studio. Ciò che si richiede per tale controllo è la reale introspezione con la domanda: 'Chi sono?' Come è possibile porre questa domanda per la ricerca del Sé utilizzando lo studio delle scritture?" (2)
Questo ricorda un detto di Chuang Tsu che, se uno si libera della piccola saggezza, otterrà una grande saggezza.
Non ci sono precetti di speciale austerità, ma allo stesso tempo, non è accettata l’indulgenza. La domanda è sempre la stessa: chi è che ricerca tutto questo. Facendo nuovamente riferimento a un saggio taoista, è come la storia, raccontata da Lee Tsu, di un addestratore di animali che domava le tigri (vasana) trattandole in maniera impersonale, senza gratificare i loro desideri né provocando la loro rabbia.
Il pensiero è inadatto come mezzo per raggiungere la sadhana. Non è la vera natura dell’uomo. Crea gli errori e, ciò che è peggio, crea il padre di questi, una falsa entità, l’ego o essere individuale. "La concentrazione non è pensare a una cosa, al contrario è escludere tutti i pensieri, poiché tutti i pensieri ostruiscono il senso del vero essere. Tutti gli sforzi vanno diretti semplicemente alla rimozione del velo dell’ignoranza." (3)
Maharshi dice che il Sé non è nei libri: se ci fosse, chiunque potrebbe diventare un Saggio con lo studio. Non lo si trova neanche negli eremi, e non serve vivere in solitudine. "Perché pensi al fatto che sei un capofamiglia? Il pensiero stesso che sei un sannyasin ti tormenterà anche se decidi di andare avanti. Sia che continui a vivere in famiglia o rinunci ad essa e vai a vivere nella foresta, la tua mente ti tormenterà. L’ego è la fonte del pensiero, crea il corpo e il mondo e ti fa pensare di essere un capofamiglia. Se rinunci, sostituirà il pensiero della rinuncia a quello della famiglia, e l’ambiente della foresta a quello della famiglia. Ma gli ostacoli mentali sono sempre lì per te, anzi aumentano enormemente nel nuovo ambiente. Il cambio del contesto non è di alcun aiuto. L’unico ostacolo è la mente e deve essere vinto in entrambi i casi, a casa o nella foresta. Se puoi farlo nella foresta, perché non a casa? Perché cambiare ambiente? I tuoi sforzi li puoi fare anche ora, qualunque sia l’ambiente." (4)
Il Sé non è neanche qualcosa da ottenere in qualche data futura. "Nessuno è mai lontano dal suo Sé, e perciò tutti hanno di fatto realizzato il proprio Sé: ma - e questo è il grande mistero – la gente non lo sa e vuole realizzare il Sé. La realizzazione consiste solo nel liberarsi della falsa idea che non si è realizzati. Non c’è niente di nuovo da acquisire. Deve già esistere o non sarebbe eterno, e vale la pena di lottare solo per ciò che è eterno." (5)
Tutte le dottrine sono fatte dall’ego e per l’ego. L’ego prospera su di esse. Ma sul sentiero di Maharshi l’esistenza dell’ego è negata fin dall’inizio, sia quello dell’insegnante che quello del discepolo. "Non c’è nessun ego. Se ci fosse, si dovrebbe ammettere l’esistenza di due sé. Perciò non c’è ignoranza. Se esplori il Sé, scopri che l’ignoranza, che non ha vita autonoma, non esiste e dirai che è sparita." (6)
C’è qualcosa nel corpo umano che può chiamarsi 'Io' ? Ci sono processi mentali e vitali, ma la ricerca rivela che non c’è una persona che si può designare come 'Io'. (7)
Il processo negativo consiste nell’eliminare intellettualmente il non-io così da capire che chi elimina tutto non può comunque eliminare sé stesso. Questa ricerca intellettuale è utile nella ricerca del Sé, ma non è la ricerca in sé.
Visitatore: "Comincio col chiedermi 'Chi sono?' ed elimino il corpo come non-io, il respiro come non-io, la mente come non-io, ma poi sono incapace di andare oltre."
Bhagavan: "Bene, questo funziona solo per la mente. Il tuo processo è solo mentale ... La Verità non può essere indicata direttamente; perciò si usa questo processo mentale. Vedi, chi elimina tutto il non-io non può eliminare l’'Io'. Per dire 'Non sono questo' o 'Sono questo' ci deve essere l’'Io' a dirlo. Questo 'Io' è solamente l’ego o 'Io-pensiero'. Dopo il manifestarsi di questo 'Io-pensiero' nascono tutti gli altri pensieri. L’'Io-pensiero' è perciò il pensiero radice. Se la radice viene estirpata, anche il resto viene sradicato. Perciò cerca la radice 'Io'; domandati: 'Chi sono?' trova l’origine dell’'Io'. Allora tutti questi problemi svaniranno e resterà solo il puro Sé." (8)
Perché Maharshi era così contro il pensiero? Perché non era soddisfatto della ricerca mentale? Perché non si può vedere al di là di questa. E’ creata dall’ego e perciò non può penetrare il Sé sottostante l’ego. Ma la rinuncia al pensiero non porterà al puro vuoto? Può succedere, è ciò che accade nel sonno profondo. Ma può anche dare origine al risveglio nel puro Sat-Chit-Ananda, Essere-Consapevolezza-Gioia. E’ ciò che è definita Realizzazione. "L’assenza di pensiero non significa vuoto. Ci deve essere qualcuno per essere consapevoli del vuoto. La conoscenza e l’ignoranza sono pertinenti solo alla mente e sono in dualità, ma il Sé è aldilà di entrambi. E’ pura Luce. Non c’è necessità per un Sé di vederne un altro. Non ci sono due Sé. Ciò che non è Sé è solamente non-Sé e non può vedere il Sé. Il Sé non ha vista o udito: è aldilà di essi, solo, pura Consapevolezza." (9)
Dunque, chi ha realizzato il Sé resta assorbito nella Consapevolezza pura, informe, dimentico del mondo esterno? E’ possibile; è lo stato di trance noto come nirvikalpa samadhi. Ma non accade necessariamente. La totale e completa Realizzazione implica anche il ritorno alla consapevolezza formale, con la piena percezione del mondo esterno, non come realtà autonoma, ma come manifestazione del Sé. La mente e i sensi sono ancora in grado di conoscere; se qualcuno dice che la mente è morta, ciò significa solo che non crede più di immaginare, creare o originare, come faceva prima. Questo è lo stato nel quale era Maharshi. E’ noto come sahaja samadhi.
Per quelli che non hanno realizzato il Sé, e anche per quelli che ci sono riusciti, la parola 'Io' è riferita al corpo, ma con la differenza che, per quelli che non hanno realizzato il Sé, l’'Io' è confinato al corpo, mentre, per quelli che hanno realizzato il Sé dentro il corpo, l’'Io' brilla come il Sé illimitato.
"Per quelli che non hanno realizzato il Sé e anche per quelli che lo hanno realizzato, il mondo è reale. Ma per quelli che non lo hanno realizzato, la Verità viene adattata alla misura del mondo, mentre, per quelli che lo hanno realizzato, la Verità risplende come la Perfezione senza forma e come il Sostrato del mondo. Queste sono le differenze tra di loro." (10)
Perché Maharshi insiste tanto contro l’ego? Perché l’ego è l’usurpatore che afferma di essere il Sé, la maschera che nasconde la Realtà. La sua eliminazione è l’unica via di realizzazione del vero Sé sottostante. Il ricercatore non ha alternative. Non ci può essere il pulcino finché non si rompe il guscio. Il vero Sé non può essere realizzato finché non si rinuncia al falso. Perciò Maharshi dice: poiché ciò è in definitiva necessario, perchè non iniziare subito? poiché bisogna rimanere come Sé, perché non farlo dall’inizio? poiché altri percorsi ti faranno girovagare e infine dovrai fronteggiare l’alternativa tra Sé e pseudo-Sé, perché non andare direttamente e fronteggiarla subito?
"Questo è il metodo diretto. Tutti gli altri metodi vengono praticati conservando l’ego, perciò sorgono molti dubbi e alla fine resta ancora da affrontare la domanda fondamentale. Ma con questo metodo la domanda finale è solo una e nasce fin dall’inizio ... poiché tutti i cammini tranne la ricerca del Sé presuppongono la conservazione della mente come strumento per seguirli, e non possono essere seguiti senza la mente. L’ego può prendere forme differenti e più sottili ai diversi stadi della pratica ma non è mai distrutto. Il tentativo di distruggere l’ego o la mente con metodi diversi dalla ricerca del Sé è come un ladro che diventa poliziotto per catturare il ladro, che è proprio lui. Solo la ricerca può rivelare la verità che né l’ego né la mente esistono realmente, e può abilitare a realizzare l’Essere puro, indifferenziato, del Sé o l’Assoluto." (11)
Molti esitano e trovano questo metodo troppo difficile, perché, fra tutte le rinunce, questa sembra la più severa, rinunciare non solo al piacere, ma anche all’entità che desidera e prova piacere. Ma è un’idea sbagliata. Se fosse vero, un uomo che ha realizzato il Sé, come Maharshi, sarebbe il più miserabile degli uomini, mentre, di fatto, è il più felice, una felicità pura e continua, indipendente dalle circostanze esterne. Ciò accade perché, rinunciando all’ego, non si rinuncia a nient’altro che a un concetto sbagliato dell’'Io', un errore la cui rimozione rivela la Verità eterna e la felicità pura che è la vera natura dell’uomo. "L’individualità che identifica la sua esistenza con quella della vita del corpo fisico come 'Io' si chiama ‘ego’. Il Sé, che è pura Consapevolezza, non ha senso dell’ego. Né il corpo fisico, che in sé è inerte, ha il suo senso dell’ego. Tra i due, cioè tra il Sé o Pura Consapevolezza e il corpo fisico inerte, sorge misteriosamente il senso dell’ego o 'nozione dell’Io', l’ibrido che non è nessuno dei due, e che fiorisce come entità individuale. L’ego, o essere individuale, è alla radice di tutto ciò che è futile e indesiderabile nella vita, perciò deve essere distrutto con tutti i mezzi possibili. Allora resterà risplendente solamente Ciò che sempre è. Questa è la Liberazione o Illuminazione o Realizzazione del Sé." (12)
Bisogna rimuovere l’errata convinzione che Maharshi prescriva la ricerca del 'Chi sono?' fin dall’inizio. Non aveva metodi classificati, né classificava i suoi discepoli per anzianità. Il progresso era uno stato interno che solo lui percepiva. Si presume che l’aspirante capisca che non conosce il suo Sé, e lo esamini per scoprire cosa sia in realtà.
Deve comprendere: "Sono posseduto da una forte visione dell’'Io'. Sono schiavo di uno pseudo-io. Non dovrei prenderlo per il reale 'Io' o dargli quel nome. Questa tragedia del pensiero errato mi ha portato la malattia di un 'Io' sbagliato. Maharshi ha prescritto la medicina giusta per curarmi. Sono sotto l’incantesimo dell’ego che mi ha ipnotizzato e reso schiavo. Io stesso gli ho dato il potere di farlo concedendogli il mio senso dell’’Io’ senza pensarci. Facendo così lo aiuto a derubarmi del mio vero Sé."
Infatti, Maharshi spesso cita la storia del Re Janaka che, nell’ottenere la Realizzazione, esclamava: "Ora ho acciuffato il ladro che mi ha derubato per tutti questi anni!"
Perché dunque colloco al posto sbagliato il mio senso dell’Io? Perché prendo per vere le percezioni dei sensi. Devo imparare a riconoscere il vero 'Io' che è sottostante alla mente e ai sensi e all’intero mondo materiale. La mente e i sensi vengono usati per conoscere gli oggetti, ma questa facoltà non è utile per conoscere il Sé, nel quale non c’è traccia di materialità. Non si può avere visione del Sé o conoscere il Sé in maniera reciproca, perché ciò implicherebbe due Sé in sé stessi, uno che conosce l’altro. "Parli di una visione di Shiva, ma una visione presume sempre un oggetto. Ciò implica l’esistenza di un soggetto. Il valore di una visione è lo stesso del vedente, cioè, la natura della visione è sullo stesso piano di quello del vedente." (13)
" La visione di Dio è solo la visione del Sé oggettivato come il Dio della tua fede particolare. Ciò che devi fare è conoscere il Sé." (14)
E conoscere il Sé è solo conoscere, essere consapevoli, essere.
Devoto: "Quando cerco l’'Io', non vedo niente."
Bhagavan: "Lo dici perché sei abituato a identificare te stesso con il corpo e la vista con gli occhi, ma cosa c’è da vedere? E da parte di chi? E come? C’è solo una consapevolezza e questa, quando si identifica con il corpo, si proietta attraverso gli occhi e vede gli oggetti che la circondano. L’individuo è limitato allo stato di veglia: si aspetta di vedere qualcosa di differente e accetta l’autorità dei sensi. Non ammetterà che chi vede, gli oggetti visti e l’atto di vedere sono tutti manifestazioni della stessa Consapevolezza, l’'Io-Io'. La ricerca del Sé aiuta a vincere l’illusione che il Sé è qualcosa da vedere. Come riconoscere il Sé allora? Bisogna porsi di fronte a uno specchio per riconoscere il Sé? La consapevolezza è di per sé l’'Io'. Prendine coscienza e questa è la verità." (15)
Comunque l’ego si gonfia col vedere, udire, provare sentimenti e conoscere la materialità. Valuta queste funzioni e le considera appartenenti al Sé. Accecato da queste idee, non fa l’esperienza del vero 'Io'. L’attenzione deve perciò essere distolta dalle percezioni materiali a Quello verso il quale c’è non-conoscenza (16).
Se Quello venisse conosciuto ed esperito così com’è, verrebbe riconosciuto come il vero Sé, e allora il falso 'Io' scomparirebbe.
L’uomo esterno non è reale e dovrebbe essere reso passivo, un puro ricettore delle impressioni. La ricerca del Sé è utile nel realizzare ciò. Il viaggio verso l’interno avviene in territori ignoti ai sensi.
Finché si resta in vita bisognerebbe impegnarsi a raggiungere la propria fonte. Questo è l’unico scopo degno della vita, l’unica meta degna di essere cercata, l’unico uso della vita che può porre fine alla sofferenza e frustrazione e rivelare la pura Gioia, la Consapevolezza radiante, l’Essere imperturbato che si è in realtà. L’arma per fare ciò, sul sentiero di Maharshi, è la concentrazione sul 'senso dell’Io'. Questo non è come gli altri pensieri che vanno e vengono e possono essere abbandonati secondo la propria volontà. L’attenzione deve essere costantemente portata alla sensazione di pura consapevolezza, pura coscienza dell’'Io sono'.
Dapprima questo può essere fatto solo durante le sessioni concentrate di ricerca del Sé note comunemente come 'meditazione' ma in seguito la consapevolezza dell’'Io-sono' diventa una corrente sottostante tutte le proprie attività. Questo 'senso dell’Io’ è l’odore seguendo il quale si raggiunge il Sé, come un cane rintraccia il suo padrone.
"Sono forse peggio di un cane? Risolutamente Ti rintraccerò e Ti riprenderò, oh Arunachala." (17)
Maharshi dice che se uno cerca onestamente l’'Io', il falso 'Io' svanisce, lasciando solo la verità scintillante in tutta la sua gloria originale. Il suo insegnamento è basato sulla sua esperienza, non sull’insegnamento o sul ragionamento, e niente di ciò che dice è per amore della discussione. Cosa può essere più commovente per il viaggiatore sulla Via della Montagna?
La Via della Montagna
- di M. Bhaktavatsalam - Primo ministro di Madras
“La Via della Montagna” che lo Sri Ramanashramam di Tiruvannamalai sta pubblicando, mira a esporre e preservare l’alto livello spirituale ed intellettuale che ha l’insegnamento di Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi.
E’ evidente che la “Montagna” del titolo è “Arunachala” e la “Via” è la Via di Ramana, ovvero il sentiero della ricerca del Sé.
La Montagna Arunachala è l’Achala Tattwa, comunemente conosciuto come nischala tattwa, sopra cui, come su uno schermo, scorre l’intero panorama della manifestazione.
Osservando l’immagine dimentichiamo lo schermo e colui che vede è nell’illusione. Con la realizzazione che esiste soltanto lo schermo, si svela la Pace dell’Essere, scaturita dalla comprensione della verità.
Questa è la sola realizzazione del nischala tattwa, sempre presente, Presenza oscurata dalla avidya (ignoranza). Questa avidya, il nodo fra chit e achit, taglia in pezzi la smruthi (memoria dell’altissimo), anche conosciuta come druva smruthi. Questa smruthi (rimembranza) è l’Arunachalasmruthi che trasformò il ragazzo Venkataram, in Sri Bhagavan Ramana Maharshi che benedì noi tutti, con la sua benigna Presenza, per 50 anni su Tiruvannamalai.
Nella sua pura, Trascendentale Esistenza egli ci impartì l’importanza del ninja mouna bhava del Signore Dakshinamurti.
Egli fu un vivente commentario della Verità Upanishadica e, con la sua plenaria esperienza, attirò a lui l’elite di tutte le religioni e credi per confermare loro che la realizzazione di Quello, come esso è, è l’adempimento di tutte le religioni e filosofie.
“La Via della Montagna” ci aiuterà in questo druva smruthi, perpetuo ricordo dell’altissima Verità.
Sadhana e Lavoro di Sadhu Om
Mountain Path - Gennaio 1984
Il peso che grava sull'umanità è che, per tutta la loro vita, le persone prestano attenzione solo alla seconda e terza persona (gli oggetti come tu, egli, lei, esso, questo, quello e così via) e mai portano la loro attenzione verso la prima persona ( il soggetto "io" ) allo scopo di scoprire:< chi sono io ? >.
Dall'istante del risveglio fino a quello di andare a letto, dalla nascita alla morte, dalla creazione alla dissoluzione tutta la gente, in verità tutti gli esseri viventi, prestano attenzione solo alla seconda e terza persona. E qual è l'evidente risultato di ciò ? Un cumulo di miserie senza fine.
Sapendo che tutte le miserie sorgono solo come risultato dell'errore fondamentale - il peccato originale - di prestare attenzione alla seconda e terza persona invece di prestare attenzione alla conoscenza della vera natura della prima persona, Bhagavan Srì Ramana, benevolmente, apparve sulla terra per avvertire l'umanità.
"Durante lo stato di veglia e sogno voi prestate attenzione solo alla seconda e terza persona e, di conseguenza, sperimentate miserie senza fine. Ma nel sonno, quando non rivolgete l'attenzione a nessuna seconda o terza persona, non sperimentate nessuna miseria. Trascurando la pacifica felicità, che sperimentate mentre dormite, cercate la felicità nello stato di veglia prestando attenzione agli innumerevoli oggetti esterni. Il fatto, comunque, che sperimentate felicità durante il sonno profondo, nell'assenza di quegli oggetti, non indica che la felicità non risiede negli oggetti ma in voi, la prima persona o il soggetto? Perciò perché non tentate, anche nello stato di veglia, di prestare attenzione non alla seconda e terza persona ma alla prima persona "io" ?
Essendo, Srì Bhagavan un perfetto dottore spirituale ha diagnosticato la causa precisa delle nostre sofferenze e ha prescritto la sola perfetta terapia, vale a dire: prendere la medicina dell'autoattenzione e osservare la dieta di astenersi dal prestare attenzione alla seconda e terza persona.
Quelli di noi che danno retta a questo consiglio di Srì Bhagavan e che, perciò, desiderano seguire la terapia da lui prescritta sono chiamati Mumukshus o aspiranti alla liberazione. Per qualificarsi come aspirante alla liberazione si deve avere l'assoluta convinzione che la felicità, il solo scopo di tutti gli esseri viventi, può essere conseguita non tramite gli oggetti esterni, ma solo dal proprio Sé interiore. Quando si ha questa qualificazione un intenso, bruciante desiderio di tentare di prestare attenzione al Sé nascerà nel proprio cuore. In verità, per un vero aspirante, il desiderio e lo sforzo per conoscere il Sé diventeranno la cosa più importante della sua vita e tutte le altre cose saranno considerate essere solo di secondaria importanza. Quando in qualcuno sorge un tale intenso, ardente, desiderio il successo è assicurato, perché "dove c'è una volontà c'è una via ".
Udendo ciò, comunque, alcuni devoti chiesero se è allora necessario ritrarsi da tutte le attività per essere capaci di praticare l'autoattenzione. Essi chiesero: "se noi seguiamo sinceramente questa Sadhana di attenzione al Sé, non si dimostrerà il lavoro essere un ostacolo? Ma, se abbandoniamo il lavoro, come provvederemo al cibo, al vestiario e al rifugio richiesto per il corpo?". Comunque, ogni qualvolta i devoti interrogavano Srì Bhagavan su tale questione Egli soleva rispondere che il lavoro non è, necessariamente, un ostacolo alla pratica spirituale, "sadhana". Ciò non vuol dire, naturalmente, che un aspirante deve lavorare con lo stesso spirito di un uomo mondano o che egli deve lavorare perseguendo lo stesso scopo. Lo spirito in cui, e, lo scopo con cui un aspirante dovrebbe lavorare in questo mondo, può essere illustrato con il seguente esempio : supponiamo che un uomo di affari affitti un negozio, nel cuore di una grande città, per mille rupie al mese. Se dal suo commercio egli vuole trarre solo un guadagno sufficiente a pagare il fitto del negozio non sarà un affare senza valore? Il suo scopo non dovrebbe essere quello di gestire il negozio per guadagnare diecimila rupie al mese ? In altre parole se non guadagna abbastanza, persino per pagare l'affitto, sarà capace di rimanere nel negozio per guadagnare il suo profitto?
Il nostro corpo è come il negozio affittato dall'uomo di affari. Lo scopo con cui noi affittiamo questo corpo è realizzare il Sé, mentre la retta che paghiamo per il corpo consiste in cibo, vestiti e ricovero. Per pagare questa retta è necessario lavorare usando la mente, la parola e il corpo come nostri strumenti. Se non paghiamo la retta non possiamo vivere nel corpo e guadagnare il grande profitto dell'autoconoscenza. Però non dobbiamo spendere l'intera nostra vita, tutto il nostro tempo, lavorando per pagare la retta. La mente, la parola e il corpo dovrebbero lavorare solo per quell'ammontare di tempo e con quella quantità di sforzo che è necessario per pagare la retta, per provvedere al cibo, al vestiario e al ricovero necessario per il corpo. Se, invece, noi dedichiamo tutto il nostro tempo e sforzo verso l'accumulo di comfort e di comodità per il corpo, come fanno le persone mondane, noi vogliamo essere come l'uomo di affari senza valore che lavora solo per pagare la retta e che mai tenta di fare profitto. Perciò, un sincero aspirante, dovrebbe organizzare il suo lavoro in modo tale che spenda solo una parte del suo tempo e energia per mantenere il corpo, cosicché egli può utilizzare il rimanente tempo ed energia per sforzarsi di guadagnare il grande profitto dell'autoconoscenza.
Per alcuni aspiranti il prarabdha sarà disposto da Dio o dal guru in un modo tale che dovranno lavorare poco o niente per mantenere il loro corpo, per altri aspiranti, invece, può essere disposto in modo tale che essi devono spendere più del loro tempo in lavoro per il mantenimento del corpo. Ma in qualunque modo, il prarabdha è disposto, esso è disposto solo per il bene dell'aspirante. Di più, dal momento che il prarabdha determina solo le attività esterne del corpo e della mente esso non può, in alcun modo, ostacolare l'interiore desiderio e sete di autoconoscenza. Se uno ha un'intensa sete di conoscenza la Grazia del Guru, certamente, l'aiuterà in tutti i modi, sia dall'interno che dall'esterno per dargli la possibilità di rivolgere l'attenzione al Sé .
Alcune persone, comunque, si lamentano che, durante la loro vita, sono forzati ad occuparsi in così tante attività che non hanno tempo per praticare l'autoattenzione. Ma persino nel mezzo di molte importanti attività non troviamo il tempo per mangiare, andare al bagno, rispondere ai richiami della natura, al sonno e così via?
In modo analogo, nel mezzo di tutte le altre attività , un serio aspirante , troverà un minimo di pochi minuti al giorno, ogni giorno, per praticare l'autoattenzione. All'inizio, se possibile, un minimo di dieci minuti dovrebbe essere dedicato al mattino e alla sera per la pratica dell'autoattenzione. Tale regolare pratica giornaliera è raccomandata da Srì Bhagavan nel quarantaquattresimo verso di Srì Arunaciala Aksharamanamalai (la Ghirlanda nuziale di lettere) nel quale canta : "Rivolgiti al Sé, giornalmente con lo sguardo rivolto all'interno osserva te stesso ed esso (il Reale ) sarà conosciuto, così mi dicesti o mia Arunachala".
Se questa pratica regolarmente è eseguita per qualche tempo, l'autoattenzione diventerà sempre più familiare e si troverà che è possibile spostare la propria attenzione dalla seconda e dalla terza persona alla prima persona persino nel mezzo delle proprie attività giornaliere, ogni qualvolta capitano pochi minuti di tempo libero tra la fine di una attività e l'inizio della successiva. Se uno, in tal modo, tenta di portare la propria attenzione verso la prima persona, ogni qualvolta ha pochi momenti di tempo libero, alla fine della giornata una gran quantità di tempo sarà stata dedicata all'autoattenzione sebbene con intermittenza. Questa intermittente autoattenzione sarà trovata essere di grande aiuto quando uno si siede per praticare il prescritto tempo (da dieci minuti a mezzora, una ora ogni mattino e sera) quando non c'è nessun ostacolo esterno ad ostacolare la propria pratica.
All'inizio uno può non essere capace di mantenere un'interrotta attenzione anche solo per pochi minuti: A causa dell'abitudine accumulata la mente naturalmente tenderà a iniziare a pensare a qualche oggetto di seconda o terza persona. Ogni volta che l'attenzione si volge nell'interno, l'aspirante tende a ritornare all'esterno. Questo processo di dispersione e di concentrazione dell'attenzione si ripete più volte.
Se la mente dell'aspirante è resa debole dal poco amore per la conoscenza del Sé, la riduzione dell'autoattenzione accadrà spesso, a ciò seguirà una lotta (per riguadagnare l'autoattenzione) e la mente ben presto sarà stanca. Invece di questa ripetuta lotta per riguadagnare l'autoattenzione, uno dovrebbe rilassare la mente per un istante, appena il tentativo di fissare l'attenzione sulla prima persona diventa instabile, e dopo fare un nuovo tentativo. Se uno fa questi intermittenti tentativi troverà che, ciascun tentativo, avrà forza fresca e più precisa chiarezza di attenzione.
Se si preme il pollice su una bilancia, l'ago può all'inizio indicare una pressione di dieci chilogrammi. Ma se uno tenta di mantenere quella pressione per un lungo periodo di tempo, l'ago mostrerà che essa gradualmente si è ridotta e decrementata. In altre parole, se uno rilassa la pressione e, dopo un breve riposo, preme di nuovo con rinnovato vigore, l'ago mostrerà un po' più di dieci chilogrammi. Analogamente nel caso dell'autoattenzione. Se si lotta parecchio tempo per mantenere l'autoattenzione l'intensità e la chiarezza della propria attenzione gradualmente si indebolirà e si ridurrà. Ma se invece ci si rilassa appena la propria autoattenzione è indebolita e, dopo un po' di riposo, si fa un nuovo e fresco tentativo di fissare l'attenzione sul Sé, quel fresco tentativo avrà una grande intensità e chiarezza. Perciò, quello che è importante, non è tanto la durata che uno spende nel tentativo di prestare attenzione al Sé, ma la serietà e intensità con cui si fa ciascun nuovo tentativo.
Durante il tempo di pratica (sadhana) la nostra attenzione, che è adesso focalizzata sugli oggetti di seconda e terza persona, torna indietro, per così dire, di centottanta gradi a focalizzare Sé stessa sulla prima persona. Al principio comunque, la propria attenzione può essere capace di girare solo cinque, dieci o quindici gradi. Questo perché la propria svolta è ostacolata da una potente molla, la molla delle proprie tendenze (vasanan) o desideri sottili verso gli oggetti mondani. Ogni volta uno tenta di girarsi verso la prima persona, questa molla delle proprie tendenze mondane tenderà a spingere la propria mente indietro di nuovo verso la seconda e terza persona. Perciò il numero di gradi che si è capaci di girare dipenderà dalla fermezza del proprio distacco (vairagya) verso gli oggetti mondani e dalla forza del proprio desiderio (bhakti) a conoscere il Sé. Tali vairagya e bhakti saranno incrementati praticando regolarmente l'autoattenzione, pregando sinceramente Srì Bhagavan, frequentando costantemente simili persone o libri, come se si volesse ripetutamente rammentare, "Solo conoscendo il Sé noi possiamo conseguire reale e duratura felicità; fino a quando noi non conosceremo il Sé continueremo a cercare senza fine e sperimenteremo miseria; perciò il nostro primo e più importante dovere nella vita è conoscere il Sé; tutti gli altri sforzi saranno inutili."
Come il proprio distacco e desiderio di conoscere il Sé si incrementa con la preghiera al Guru, con lo studio (svavana) e riflessione (manana) sul suo insegnamento e con la pratica (nididhyasana) dell'autoattenzione, la propria abilità di girare l'attenzione verso la prima persona anche si incrementerà fino a che uno sarà capace di girare per novanta, centoventi o persino centocinquanta gradi a ciascun fresco tentativo. Quando la propria abilità a girare la propria attenzione sul Sé incrementa, si sarà capaci di sperimentare una tenue corrente di autoconsapevolezza persino mentre è occupato in attività; cioè, uno sarà capace di sperimentare una consapevolezza del proprio essere che non sarà disturbata da qualunque cosa la propria mente, parola o corpo può star facendo; in altre parole uno sarà capace di ricordare il sentimento " io sono" che è sempre il sottofondo di tutte le proprie attività. Comunque questa tenue corrente di autoconsapevolezza non dovrebbe essere presa per lo stato di incessante di autoattenzione, perchè uno la sperimenterà solo quando uno si sente propenso a fare così.
Come allora uno può sperimentare lo stato di incessante autoattenzione, lo stato di fedele osservazione al Sé ? La Grazia del Guru più e più volte aiuterà quegli aspiranti che ripetutamente praticano l'autoattenzione, con grande amore (Bhakti), per conoscere il Sé. Quando l'ardente fuoco e il soffiante vento si uniscono, insieme fanno meraviglie. Analogamente quando l'ardente fuoco d'amore per la conoscenza del Sé, e il soffiante vento della Grazia del Guru si uniscono insieme, un grande prodigio si compie. Durante uno dei suoi nuovi tentativi, l'aspirante sarà capace di girare la sua attenzione di centottanta gradi verso il Sé (vale a dire, egli sarà capace di raggiungere una perfetta chiarezza di autoconsapevolezza, completamente incontaminata persino da un minimo di consapevolezza di una seconda o terza persona). Al che sentirà un grande mutamento prendere posto spontaneamente e senza suo sforzo. Il suo potere di attenzione, che egli ha precedentemente tentato così tante volte di girare verso il Sé e che è sempre sfuggito indietro verso la seconda o terza persona, adesso, sarà preso sotto la stretta di una potente presa che non permetterà che torni di nuovo verso una seconda o terza persona. Questa presa è la presa della Grazia. Sebbene la Grazia sempre aiuti e guidi, e solo quando si è così presi con la sua stretta che si diventa totalmente preda di essa. Se una volta si gira la propria attenzione, in pieno, di centottanta gradi verso il Sé, uno è sicuro di essere preso con questa presa di grazia, la quale lo prenderà allora come suo proprio e lo proteggerà per sempre dal tornare verso la seconda o terza persona. Questo stato in cui la mente è così presa dalla stretta di Grazia ed è, per tal mezzo, immersa per sempre nella sua sorgente, è conosciuta come l'esperienza di vera conoscenza di (Jnananubhuti), autorealizzazione (Atmasakshatkaram), liberazione (Moksha) e così via. Questo soltanto può essere chiamato lo stato di incessante autoattenzione.
Alcune persone dubitano "se è così la mente, allora, rimarrà per sempre immersa nel samadhi ? Non sarà capace di uscire di nuovo e conoscere tutte le seconde e terze persone di questo mondo? Non è un fatto che persino Bhagavan Srì Ramana spese quasi cinquantaquattro anni nello stato di autorealizzazione e che il più di quel tempo egli fu visto prestar attenzione alla seconda e terza persona ?". Si è vero che, sebbene Srì Bhagavan rimanesse sempre nello stato di autorealizzazione, alla vista degli altri, Egli fu visto essere conoscente il mondo, come può questo essere compreso?
Rimanere con il corpo e mente completamente inerti non è il solo segno del samadhi. Sebbene dopo l'autorealizzazione alcuni jnanis trascorrono il loro intero periodo vitale completamente immemori del corpo e del mondo, non tutti i jnanis, necessariamente, rimangono così. Il ritorno alla coscienza del corpo (e conseguentemente alla coscienza mondana) dopo il conseguimento dell'autorealizzazione è secondo il prarabda di quel corpo; nel caso di qualcuno è possibile che non ci sia più il ritorno, per altri è possibile il ritorno entro un secondo o dopo poche ore o giorni. Ma persino nei casi dove c'è il ritorno, non sarà sperimentato come una coscienza di seconda o terza persona! Vale a dire, il corpo e il mondo non sono sperimentati dal jnani come seconda e terza persona - oggetti altri che Sé stessi - ma come suo proprio illimitato e indiviso Sé.
Fino a quando si è aspiranti si scambia la limitata forma del proprio corpo essere il proprio Sé, e, conseguentemente, la rimanente porzione del proprio illimitato reale Sé è sperimentato da uno come il mondo - una collezione di seconde e terze persone oggetto. Ma dopo aver conseguito l'autorealizzazione, da allora, uno sperimenta Sé stesso essere l'illimitato tutto, scopre che tutte le seconde e terze persone che precedentemente sentiva essere altro che Sé stesso, sono veramente nient'altro che il proprio Sé. Perciò persino quando uno jnani (dal punto di vista dello spettatore) presta attenzione alla seconda e terza persona oggetto, egli (dal suo proprio punto di vista) presta attenzione solo al Sé. Perciò anche se può apparire essere ingaggiato in così tante attività, sia fisiche che mentali, egli di fatto sempre permane nel naturale stato di incessante autoattenzione.
Perciò, l'incessante autoattenzione è possibile solo nello stato di autorealizzazione e non nello stato della pratica (sadhana). Quel che uno deve fare durante il periodo di sadhana è coltivare il sempre crescente amore per conseguire l'autoconoscenza e fare intermittenti ma ripetuti tentativi per girare la propria attenzione in pieno di centottanta gradi verso il Sé. Se a uno, una volta, accade di farlo, allora l'incessante autoattenzione sarà trovata essere naturale e senza sforzo.
Da LETTERE SULLO YOGA, Sri Aurobindo - sesto volume
Rimanete saldo nei periodi oscuri;la luce c'è e vincerà.
Un cuore sincero vale tutti i poteri più straordinari del mondo.
Non importa quali difetti possiate avere nella natura.
L'unica cosa che conta è il mantenervi aperto alla Forza.
Nessun sadhaka può trasformarsi con i soli propri sforzi personali; è solo la Forza divina che può trasformarlo.
Se vi manterrete aperto, tutto il resto verrà fatto per voi.
E' quest'allegria che vogliamo sempre vedere in voi.
E' la felicità dello psichico che ha trovato la sua strada e che, qualunque difficoltà sorga è certo di essere guidato verso la meta e di raggiungerla.
Quando un sadhaka ha costantemente questa felicità,
sappiamo che ha superato la peggiore difficoltà e che ormai avanza con passo fermo e sicuro sulla giusta strada.
Sì, un grande progresso dovrebbe solo spronarvi a un maggiore progresso, accanto al quale il primo sembrerà insignificante.
Nessuna difficoltà dovuta a vite passate è insuperabile.
Esistono formazioni che aiutano e formazioni che ostacolano;occorre eliminare e dissolvere queste ultime, non permettere loro di ripetersi.
La Madre vi ha detto ciò per spiegarvi l'origine di questa tendenza e la necessità di sbarazzarvene;non alludeva ad alcuna difficoltà insuperabile, anzi, al contrario.
Il segreto dell’India è il Cobra reale con un quarzo-diadema verde sulla fronte
RAMAKRISNA IL TOTALMENTE "FOLLE DI DIO"
L’esemplarità estrema di Ramakrisna, il "supersanto" indù del secolo XIX, l’analfa-beta divino maestro di personaggi come Tagore e Gandh, di Vivekananda e Aurobindo, merita qui una speciale attenzione, sulla traccia della nota biografia celebrativa di uno scrittore invaghito del misticismo indiano, Romain Rolland (Ramakrisna, 1929, tr.it. Elvetica 1975). Con atti di mortificazione, per superare la ripugnanza che suscita l’enfasi consensuale dell’autore, e col sospetto continuo di esagerazioni sue o delle fonti indiane da cui attinge, vi estraggo alcuni dati essenziali relativi alle spaventose risposte psico-somatiche o alle catalessi estatiche prolungate e quasi mortali, che l’asceta indiano sofferse e godette nella sua vita fino a soccomberne. Ramakrisna, a quanto narrava lui stesso, fu colto da raptus estatici dalla prima infanzia, a sei anni ("l’immensità della gioia, l’emozione mi opprimevano…", p.14), una prima crisi definibile epilettoide ma Rolland devozionale o demenziale, a scelta del lettore, scrive che "già questa prima estasi svela i caratteri della presa divina sull’anima di questo bambino" (ivi). Poi nota che "da allora le estasi si moltiplicano", e che mentre in Europa un bambino così in pericolo di vita, sarebbe sottoposto a cure psicoterapiche, nell’India misteriosa no, ci si preoccupa appena perché ci pensano gli dèi. Inutile dire che – siamo a metà del secolo XIX – il bambino prodigio discute coi dotti come Gesù Cristo nella sua leggenda, e nello scriverlo Rolland non sospetta la dilatazione leggendaria, alla quale concorre il suo racconto favoloso in cui si fatica sempre a cogliere dati e fatti precisi.
Giovane sacerdote addetto al culto della dea Kali, la Grande Madre dalle molte brac-cia, in un grande tempio sul Gange, Ramakrisna si trova in buona compagnia fra le turbe di pellegrini, monaci, fachiri indù o musulmani, "tutti i pazzi di Dio riuniti" (p.17), nota con definizione compiaciuta ma pertinente. Poco oltre, Rolland osserva che "ciò che negli indù più sorprende i credenti europei (e ancora, più i cristiani protestanti che non i cattolici) è l’intenso concretarsi delle loro visioni religiose" (p.19), nel senso molto apprezzato che nel loro pellegrinaggio hanno le "visioni". E cita il grande discepolo Vivecananda (a cui Rolland stesso dedicherà un’opera biografica in due volumi!), che a Ramakrisna domanda: "Avete visto Dio?", e l’altro raggiante: "Lo vedo come vedo te, ma con maggiore chiarezza": dialogo tipico fra uomini dimidiati "pazzi di dio", e Rolland ammirato non batte ciglio (pp.19-20). Poi sembra che il giovane prete indù si disperi piangendo e rotolandosi davanti ai visitatori del tempio, perché la dea Kali non gli appare in visione: "La morte cova sempre lo yogi imprudente, che cammina sull’orlo dell’abisso; i testimoni lo descrivono, in quei giorni di turbamento, con il viso e il petto arrossato, per l’iper-afflusso di sangue, con occhi bagnati di lacrime, il corpo scosso da spasmi. E’ al limite delle forze vitali: di là c’è la caduta nella notte, il colpo apoplettico, oppure la visione… Vede! Cade la parte!" (p.21). Brividiamo anche noi alla rievocazione.
Poi è il pazzo di dio che rimembra con benaltra efficacia: "Un giorno ero in preda a un’angoscia intollerabile. Mi sentivo torcere il cuore come un panno strizzato… La sofferenza mi dilaniava. All’idea che non avrei avuto nella vita la benedizione di quella visione divina, una frenesia terribile mi prese. Pensavo: se deve essere così, basta con questa vita!… La grande spada pendeva nel santuario di Kali: il mio sguardo cadde su di essa: un lampo mi attraversò il cervello. Lei! Lei mi aiuterà a mettere fine…, mi precipitai; la impugnai come un pazzo. Ed ecco!…" (pp.21-22). Quello che segue è la descrizione di un abbacinamento e di una inondazione estatica, perdita di coscienza prolungata per due giorni: "Dentro di me si muoveva un oceano di gioia ineffabile: e fino in fondo, ero cosciente della presenza della Divina Madre…" (ivi). Rolland stesso richiama le confessioni di Teresa d’Avila, ritenendo che entrambi siano stati invasi dall’invisibile, inghiottiti nell’infinito (come "un mare che li anneghi"), a cui poi si attribuivano le personificazioni ereditate dalle rispettive tradizioni religiose. Preannunciata da sfinimento e angoscia, la trance allucinatoria o epilettoide (l’aura epilettica) consisterebbe in una improvvisa scarica o vampa luminosa indistinta – "illimitato", "infinito" sono indefinizioni posteriori – e in fotismi vari a onde e scintille ecc., senza contenuto figurale, che viene sovrapposto poi al ri-sveglio, interpretato come "possessione divina" ecc. Le cosiddette "illuminazioni" visionarie con specifico contenuto religioso, perlopiù conscie o semiconscie, riflettono appunto una elaborazione addizionale del soggetto o di altri, d’immagini derivate dalla tradizione religiosa.
Il caso di Ramakrisna è straordinario per l’eccezionale natura psicopatica del personaggio, predisposto dall’infanzia anche per fragilità fisica al manifestarsi di fenomeni ultra-patologici, che qui emergono evidenti, oltre l’alone lirico idealizzante del "folle amore" per la dea Kali. "Questo folle amore – secondo l’evocazione partecipe di Rolland – era uno scandalo vivente: egli non era più capace di attendere al servizio del tempio: in mezzo agli atti rituali veniva preso da crisi di perdita di coscienza, da sprofondamenti, da pietrificazioni, in cui percepiva il movimento di tutte le sue giunture come uno scricchiolio di cardini, che lo murassero all’interno di una statua" (p.24). E nella progressione saliente di un processo mistico che si esteriorizza con caratteri di elevata psico-patologia: "Ogni funzione di Ramakrisna era sospesa: non chiudeva più occhio, non mangiava più. Se un nipote non fosse stato presente per vegliare sulle sue più urgenti necessità, sarebbe morto. Un tale stato lo espose ai mali di cui i nostri visionari d’Occidente sono stati gratificato più di una volta. Gocce minuscole di sangue trasudavano dalla sua pelle, il suo corpo intero era in fuoco e il suo spirito era un braciere, le cui lingue crepitanti erano Dei. Dopo il periodo in cui vedeva gli Dei in tutti – in una ragazza vide Sita; in un giovane inglese, in piedi con le gambe incrociate contro un albero, vide Krisna –, egli fu gli Dei: fu Kali, fu Rama, fu Radha, l’amante di Krisna, più tardi sarà, per sei mesi, la gopi (lattaia) innamorata di Krisna, fu Krisna stesso, fu la divina scimmia Hanuman" (pp.24-25).
Anche Rolland, così disposto alla affabulazione agiografica, si rende conto che una psico-patologia delirante di questo grado oltrepassa ogni limite di recuperabilità, anche a una condivisa irragione mistica: gli stessi devoti indù lo prendevano per matto. "non voglio imbrogliare il lettore occidentale: gli do piena licenza (anch’io me la sono presa) di giudicare che il pazzo degli Dei sia pazzo da legare" (ivi). A noi la sua "licenza" non serve, è congeniale alla nostra ragione critica, a noi non interessa se a Rolland invece l’evidente condizione psichiatrica del mistico indù non impedisce di trovarci ugualmente pretesti ammirativi, che non mancano mai al retore predisposto, nel segno mistificante dello "spirito": le cui vie "sono spesso sconcertanti", giacché il giovane psicopatico ne uscì comunque e il suo "spirito" s’innalzò. Quali siano tali "realizzazioni potenti" che l’umanità avrebbe avuto in dono non emergono nel seguito del racconto, almeno alla mia lettura disincantata, che continua a scorgere nell’esperienza mistica di Ramakrisna una crudele ma autentica follìa auto-di-struttiva, che gli invasamenti teistici vissuti come "realizzazione di Dio" in sé, non rendono umanamente più plausibile. Per i devoti anche occidentali come Rolland, Ramakrisna è invece "il massimo saggio e santo e mistico dell’India contemporanea", a cui si attribuisce finanche una "dottrina", con "opere" pluri-voluminose scrit-te da Vivecananda e altri, malgrado il suo analfabetismo e quindi l’assenza di sue scritture in pieno XIX secolo!
Rolland persevera nel suo equivoco flusso retorico, che sale a misura della gravità dei fenomeni patologici, quasi per compensazione verbosa: "Verso la fine del 1865, Ramakrisna rimase ancora più di sei mesi nel cerchio magico, il cerchio fiammeggiante. Prolungò, fino al limite estremo delle sue forze, l’identità con l’Assoluto. Per sei mesi, a quanto egli dice, rimase in uno stato di estasi catalettica, che ci ricorda le descrizioni degli antichi fachiri: il corpo, abbandonato dallo spirito, come una casa vuota, era in balia delle forze distruttrici" (p.46). Le estasi sono fenomeni psico-fisiologici specifici, che richiedono tecniche specifiche, e culminano in una specie di orgasmi epilettici, brevi o enormemente espansi e, in certi casi come questo, incredibilmente prolungati con perdita di coscienza parziale o totale, in stati catalettici di morte apparente (Di Nola, in Enciclopedia delle Religioni, II, coll. 1256ss.). La "visione universale", "l’identità con l’assoluto", "lo Spirito Cosmico" o peggio le apparizioni di paradisi antropomorfi indù o buddhisti, cristiani o musulmani, con i rispettivi Dèi personali variamente radianti o dei "divini" profeti ecc., gli immaginari incontri e dialoghi ecc., non sono che elaborazioni di sogno individuali, produzioni inconscie o semiconscie della mente umana, sui dati culturali ricevuti dall’ambiente. I corrispettivi e contraccolpi fisiologici sono quasi sempre assai dolorosi, e spesso degradanti: "una violenta dissenteria che lo roderà per sei mesi e lo strapperà gradualmente al nirvikalpa. Con il dolore fisico, anche il dolore morale lo lega alla terra (…). Si identificava con tutte le pene del mondo, impure e assassine, e il suo cuore era disseminato di ferite" (pp.48-49). Cioè lo stesso male fisico lo ridesta dal sonno estatico, e l’estrema tensione neuro-psichica causa revulsioni isteriche.
E’ invece un prodotto culturale peculiare – come dicevo – la "superiore" disponibilità pluri-cultuale di Ramakrisna (denominazione che associa per identificazione due divinità induiste, Rama e Krisna appunto), che è tanto difficile capire nell’Occidente cristiano, maleducato in troppi secoli d’imperialismo ecclesiastico cattolico, e che poco ha in comune con la "tolleranza" laica, semmai derivando dalla tradizionale libertà di culto "politeistica", orientale e classica. Forse è pure la natura ossessa e delirante del "folle di dio", un "posseduto" permanente ("cronico"), che vive la mistica come esperienza innata, e che sembra perciò staccato dalle confessioni e dai culti, tanto da potere aderire indifferentemente (per poco) all’islamismo e al cristianesimo, considerando quei profeti, come Buddha Rama Krisna, tutti "incarnazioni del Signore" (pp.49ss). Per le conseguenze distruttive della "morte estatica", Ramakrisna è costretto ora a reprimerla, ma resta intatta l’esasperata patologica ipersensibilità fisica e psichica dell’asceta, che per es. ripugnando al denaro brucia se lo tocca, almeno secondo le esagerazioni dei discepoli, come Vivecananda che narra: "Anche nel sonno, se lo toccavo con una moneta, la sua mano si contorceva e tutto il suo corpo era come paralizzato" (p.73). Oppure contrae per simpatia i mali di altri: "Suo nipote vide la sua schiena rossa e gonfia alla vista di un uomo la cui schiena era stata martoriata. Il veritiero Girish Chandra Ghosh ha certificato la realtà di queste stimmate" (ivi).
Credo sia inutile continuare a evocare le credibili percezioni straordinarie di un tale soggetto, e le incredibili folgorazioni trasformatrici che esercitò sugli altri, sempre per attestazione esaltata di Vivecananda che, pure essendo colto e di natura vigorosa, come per contagio "magico" subisce tracolli e abbacinamenti estatici, ai primi incontri col mistico (pp.96-97). Mi affretto invece a concludere accennando alla morte di Ramakrisna, che continuava a godere delle sue estasi quotidiane, consumandovi "il suo debole corpo", fra i discepoli adoranti e le folle dei devoti pellegrini che accorrevano da ogni parte, Nel 1885 si manifesta un cancro alla gola, certamente causato dalle convulsioni estatiche, ancora inutilmente vietate dai medici. Resistette fra sofferenze estreme, svenimenti, estasi e sorrisi d’amore già beatifico, dopo alcuni mesi, si spegne in un rantolo a 50 anni. Nelle ultime pagine, in cui Rolland descrive brevemente le tecniche yoga, insiste sulla pericolosità di "questa terribile ascesi congestizia" (samadhi), e riferisce che "Ramakrisna parla del formicolio del sangue che fin dall’inizio si produce dai piedi alla testa: vede mosche di fuoco, nebbie luminose, metallo fuso. Il petto diventa rosso e mantiene una tinta mattone e dorata, tutto il corpo brucia. (…) una sera dal suo palato irritato cola sangue nero, che si coagula (…). Numerosi estatici muoiono di emorragia cerebrale…" (p.131). E’ solo un quadro parziale delle divine "grazie" dell’estasi.
La vita di Ramakrisna è una sorta di sintesi esemplare della fenomenologia mistica, nei suoi dati psico-somatici radicalmente oppositivi e conflittuali ma necessari, su una struttura ossessiva delirante: fra una elevata patologia neuro-psichica e fisica, in parte congenita e in larga misura indotta da pratiche ascetiche auto-distruttive, e improvvisi sbocchi allucinatori d’intensità variabile, squarci ultravisivi indistinti di indicibile beatitudine, che l’interpretazione ulteriore riveste d’immagini ierofaniche, "divine" o diaboliche, nelle suggestioni delle rispettive culture religiose. Paradisi e inferni complementari e inseparabili, nel complesso intrico contraddittorio ma unitario dell’irrinunziabile egoità individuale, della "personalità" psico-fisica dell’uomo, nelle sue componenti naturali e culturali, nei limiti della sua capacità di elaborazione "immaginale", autonoma anche se e quando etero-diretta, delle proprie suggestioni e "illuminazioni", delle proprie fantasie e dei propri deliri. E qui gli ardenti difensori cristiani della mistica, come Lhermitte, non potrebbero davvero speculare su "veri e falsi mistici" – magari dicendo che l’indù non era "autentico cristiano" – perché Ramakrisna (deltutto innominato nei ponderosi tomi cattolici su La mistica, editi da Città Nuova, che discuteremo!) compendia e supera vivendo la mistica al più alto livello spasmo-patologico, con superiorità inter-confessionale.
Swarga-Ashram - Pagine dal Diario indiano di Mircea Elide
tratte da India, Torino, Bollati Boringhieri, 1991 [Bucuresti]
Riproduciamo di seguito alcuni brani dal libro in cui il grande storico delle religioni M. Eliade (1907-1986) ha pubblicato parte del suo diario risalente al soggiorno in India, avvenuto fra il 1928 e il 1931.
Sulla riva sinistra del Gange, a due miglia da Rishikesh, si trova un ashram senza pari, che accoglie il fiume carico del gelo dei ghiacciai, ancora schiumante dopo aver superato le gole di Lakshmanjula. All'inizio si scorge soltanto il tempio bianco, santuario di Shiva, e alcune casette nascoste tra gli alberi. Qui il Gange si allarga tra il fianco della montagna invaso dalla giungla sulla riva destra e, sulla riva sinistra, un greto di sabbia argentea dove passeggiano gli eremiti all'imbrunire. Due barche assicurano la traversata verso l'ashram e il ritorno.
I traghettatori sono due robusti montanari, pii e lavoratori; non accettano mance perché sono pagati dal mahant (il superiore dell'ashram). Quando tutte e due le barche si trovano sull'altra riva, bisogna gridare forte per chiamare i barcaioli.
I raggi cadono perpendicolari sui flutti. Montagne da una parte e dall'altra. Il Gange scorre, mentre la stessa vita calma, monotona, concentrata dei monasteri indiani fluisce a Swarga-Ashram. L'acqua si calma formando piccoli laghi tranquilli tra enormi rocce nere. La spiaggia è orlata di una duna di cactus, poi è la foresta, striata di liane legnose, alcune elastiche, altre rigide e spinose; e la prodigiosa vegetazione della giungla -muschio e cespugli, arbusti e cordami verdi che si dondolano al vento. Le liane s'incrociano e si mescolano ovunque, benché i monaci le taglino per liberare i sentieri, e gli abitanti di Lakshmanjula vengano a raccoglierle ogni autunno per il fuoco. La foresta non è vecchia, è piuttosto l'avanguardia della giungla che scende dalla montagna, ma è fitta, piena di scoiattoli, di serpenti, di pavoni e gatti selvatici. In autunno, quando si prosciugano le sorgenti e la vegetazione della giungla s'impoverisce, gli sciacalli si spingono in cerca di cibo fin quasi all'eremitaggio. La notte sento le loro urla sinistre e solitarie, e più l'autunno avanza, più si avvicinano. Le grotte dei dintomi nascondono spesso tigri e pantere scese dal monte Pauri. Vanno di notte ad abbeverarsi nel Gange: creature di luce sotto i raggi lunari, signori imperturbabili in questa contrada dove nessuno uccide.
... Scendo a Swarga-Ashram alla ricerca di uno swami di cui ho inteso parlare sin da Delhi: swami Shivananda, che si è ritirato qui da sette anni. Chiedo di lui in una farmacia ayurvedica, dove un vecchio si offre di portarmici. Questi è un ometto alla soglia della rinuncia, venuto a cercare il luogo dell'"ultima meditazione". Ha deciso di abbandonare famiglia, figli, affari, per i quali ha sprecato la vita in una vana fatica e in neri peccati. Si confessa con una stupefacente spontaneità, e conclude asserendo che la vita familiare e una mistificazione, la società una fonte di peccati, non rinunciando a illustrarmi il suo pessimismo con deliziosi episodi personali. Da giovane, ha viaggiato molto in Persia, in Afghanistan e in Arabia, adottando dovunque le abitudini locali: ha mangiato carne di montone, si è ubriacato ed e andato a letto con tre donne in una stessa notte secondo il costume arabo. Ha conosciuto a Bassora delle prostitute romene e il passato, risuscitato nella sua anima pentita, gli strappa le lacrime. Siamo costretti a fermarci finché non cessi di piovere. Una schiera di scimmie scende dagli alberi e ci circonda, credendo che ci siamo fermati per distribuir loro noccioline...
Troviamo swami Shivananda nella sua kutiya sulla riva del Gange, in compagnia di un uomo imponente dallo sguardo ardente, il cui volto mi ricorda quello di Rudolf Steiner- è swami Advaitananda. Quest'ultimo, dottore in legge a Londra, ha percorso in lungo e in largo l'Europa, ha letto molto, e aveva un'invidiabile posizione sociale quando ha abbandonato tutto per consacrare il resto della sua vita alla meditazione nelle solitudini himalayane. Swami Shivananda, uomo del sud, è alto, con spalle larghe, molto scuro di pelle e felice come un francescano; segue il sadhana vedantico e ride spesso; si era conquistato l'amicizia dei notabili europei di Singapore dove ha praticato la medicina per dieci anni. Aveva trentacinque anni quando ha perduto la moglie e un figlio -allora ha lasciato tutto ed è partito a piedi da Singapore verso lo Himalaya, dormendo ai margini della strada, mangiando dove capitava, mendicando di porta in porta. È stato malato per due anni -reumatismo e malaria- ma è guarito grazie allo yoga. Oggi è felice, non esistendo per lui né dolore, né morte, né separazione, giacché il dualismo è apparente e la sola realtà è il Brahman-Atman, unico e identico nell'uomo e nel Cosmo. Il vecchio motivo delle Upanishad, sorprendente però quando lo si incontra realizzato e messo a frutto in un uomo di scienza del xx secolo.
Il terzo swami, dal passato sociale glorioso, è swami Narayan, che occupa una kutiya di pietra bianca, proprio accanto al tempio. Era giudice a Gwalior e, cinque anni prima di andare in pensione -che avrebbe dovuto rendergli parecchie rupie al mese- ha rinunciato a tutto per venire a Rishikesh. Da allora, tranne un perizoma, non porta più vestiti e, malgrado le gelate di gennaio, si è recato in questo modo sino a Badrinath, nella regione delle nevi perenni. Dorme sul legno, si desta prima dell'alba e si bagna nel Gange, poi sprofonda nel sadhana.
Nessuno conosce la via scelta da swami Narayan, perché è vincolato al giuramento del silenzio, e la sola parola che pronuncia è il mantra "Om!", saluto che rivolge a chiunque, salutando, con questo, Dio, che ravvisa in ognuno.
Swami Advaitananda è contento d'incontrarmi, di potermi esporre un parallelo molto astuto tra Bergson e Bradley da una parte, e Shankara, il maestro del vedanta, dall'altra. Conosce all'incirca tutta la filosofia moderna che legge in traduzione inglese e disprezza le pratiche devote che assorbono la maggior parte degli eremiti, considerando che la sola conoscenza metafisica, reale, effettiva, basta alla salvezza dell'uomo.
Swami Shivananda mi offre dei frutti in un piatto di alluminio. La sua kutiya: una celletta in mezzo al giardino, un letto, uno scaffale con dei recipienti, alcune pelli di leopardo e di tigre, due casse di libri. Per quanto semplice e piatta sia la conversazione, un'indiscutibile forza traspare dalle parole dello swami, una nobiltà spirituale che si manifesta in tutti i suoi slanci, in tutti i suoi consigli. È una specie di magnetismo, una magia, perché gli occhi dello yogin acquistano un luccichio metallico, ipnotico, uno sguardo che non si può situare, ma che si avverte statico, dominante, freddo. Come tutti a Swarga-Ashram, lo swami disprezza i "poteri" degli yogin, queste esibizioni incerte e occulte così discusse nel superstizioso Occidente. Il loro yoga è una disciplina personale, una cura del corpo, rende fluido il flusso mentale, è l'assistente immacolato e potente negli esercizi di concentrazione, nella meditazione e nel samadhi. E meglio è realizzata la disciplina, più il discepolo diviene silenzioso e solitario. Finalmente, dopo anni di pratica, il sadhana esige che egli lasci la società -e allora l'eremita si ritira nel Tibet. Lassù le grotte sono piene di monaci che si nutrono di radici e passano le loro giornate in una meditazione incomunicabile, che può essere una semplice perdita dei sensi (come piace credere agli europei), una specie di estasi statica, di possessione merafisica -contemplazioni andate perdute in Europa al tempo degli alessandrini. (1)
Swami Purnananda di Rishikesh non dorme mai. Durante la notte lavora, pensa, mentre il giorno insegna il sanscrito e la filosofia religiosa ai suoi discepoli. Da mezzanotte fino al sorgere del giorno, mantiene un bizzarro stato di sonno yogico, durante il quale -si dice- possiede qualità profetiche, doni di chiaroveggenza e udito a distanza -ma non potrei confermarlo. In ogni modo lo stato di trance dura soltanto due ore e, a giudicare dal ritmo respiratorio, stenterei a credere che dorma.
Perdipiù, al suo risveglio, lo swami sembra aver risolto dei problemi filosofici, o ancora semplici questioni quotidiane. IL risveglio è annunciato dalle campane che si sentono per tutta la lunghezza della riva del Gange alle tre del mattino. Sono le campane dei templi e dei santuari -segnale della veglia e della meditazione. Si dice che a quest'ora, in cui ogni essere è addormentato, Krishna discenda dai cieli per distribuire elemosine ai poveri, consolare gli afflitti e proteggere i deboli. Nel resto del tempo, uomini e dei si occupano della terra, ma alle tre del mattino il sonno li avvolge tutti. Ecco perché Krishna, invisibile e umile, discende donando ai poveri.
La preghiera e la meditazione dell'alba dei monaci -poveri del Signore- è benedetta...
... Il mio primo tramonto a Swarga-Ashram, mentre mi dirigo in compagnia del mio swamiji verso la dimora del superiore. Il Gange è rosso sangue, le montagne sembrano di porpora, uno strano chiarore si propaga su questa vallata himalayana fuori dal mondo.
Ho deciso di passare l'inverno in questo eremitaggio e devo chiedere l'autorizzazione al mahant. Me l'accorda di buon grado, senza farmi domande sulla mia religione, sulla mia nazionalità o sul denaro di cui dispongo. Devo comunque rispettare le regole del romitorio: lasciare i miei abiti europei per una veste gialla o per due pezzi di stoffa bianca (segni dello studente, il brahmacharin), calzare sandali ed essere vegetariano. Obbedisco con gioia: ne ho abbastanza di quei vestiti che attirano l'attenzione, abbastanza di queste calzature che devo togliermi ad ogni porta, rimettermi per traversare la corte, togliermi di nuovo sul limitare del santuario...
L'indomani faccio venire i miei bagagli da Rishikesh, spazzo la kutiya che il mahant mi ha messo a disposizione -una celletta solitaria con la soglia di cemento all'ombra dell'"albero di Shiva", con un letto e una lampada-, metto a posto i miei abiti che per molto tempo non mi serviranno e, avvolto nelle due strisce di tessuto bianco, scendo a bagnarmi nel Gange. Una ventina di passi tra le rocce, ed ecco il fiume che scorre con le sue acque verdi e fredde, ancora impregnate dell'asprezza delle nevi...
... Sono passati due mesi da quando ho deciso di fermarmi e molte cose ho imparato, molte più di quelle scritte in questo memoriale, ma non ho incontrato nessuno che mi abbia saputo dire dove si trovi Agartha...
La vita degli eremiti a Swarga-Ashram
... Le campane suonano per la seconda volta. È mattina, ma non si vede ancora il sole, perché sorge dall'altra parte delle montagne. Cornacchie e pavoni; un crocidare monotono, e questo grido acuto, metallico, penetrante dei pavoni selvaggi. La giungla è fresca dopo il vento della notte. Il Gange esala lo stesso profumo intenso di neve sciolta.
Vestiti dei loro abiti arancioni, gli eremiti scendono sul greto per il bagno mattutino. Si immergono completamente più volte, tappandosi con le dita orecchie e narici e ripetendo dei mantra. Dopo di che si lavano le vesti, le stendono sulle rocce ad asciugare e si ritirano nella loro kutiya. Ricompaiono di nuovo quando si sente il martellare della khetra: scalzi o con sandali di legno, la ciotola di rame del mendicante in mano, scendono i sentieri elemosinando cibo. Mangiano con le dita, come ogni indiano, senza parlare, servendosi solo della mano destra, perché il nutrimento è un'offerta del corpo degli dei e il pasto è soprattutto un rituale. Il braccio sinistro poggia col gomito sul pavimento, e sarebbe una grave indelicatezza, in tutta l'India, se un ospite toccasse qualsiasi cosa con la mano sinistra durante il pranzo. Ciò che resta è gettato via o dato alle vacche; nessuno può toccare gli avanzi. Non appena il pranzo finisce, gli eremiti si avviano verso la spiaggia per lavarsi il viso, la bocca e le mani. Non c'è popolo più pulito degli indiani. Il bagno quotidiano viene considerato, più che necessario, indispensabile. La maggior parte fa ogni giorno due bagni completi. Prima e dopo il pasto, si lavano accuratamente le mani e il viso, e dopo ogni atto impuro, quale che ne sia la natura, ripetono le abluzioni mattutine. Certamente fra gli ortodossi ce ne sono di quelli che, esagerando, fanno il bagno e si cambiano d'abito dopo la visita di ogni straniero, e che non accettano di mangiare se non insieme a individui della stessa casta. Se, per strada, l'ombra di uno shudra li sfiora, fanno dietrofront e vanno a bagnarsi ritenendosi impuri...
Swarga-Ashram ricorda il motto del monastero di Rabelais: "Fai ciò che vuoi". Non sono neppure obbligatori i servizi religiosi del tempio di Shiva, dove ogni sera s'intrecciano ghirlande di fiori rossi. Più di centotrenta sadhu vi abitano, ma al tempio non ne vengono mai più di due o tre. Nulla è imposto a chi ha definitivamente rinunciato ai doveri e alle gioie di questo mondo. IL loro Dio è uno e unico ma ciascuno lo chiama come crede: alcuni Narayana, altri Shiva, altri ancora Shankara, e alcuni sadhu si appagano di quel mantra divino che e "Om!", simbolo dell'impronunciabile presenza del divino in tutto. Quando si incontrano il loro saluto e lo stesso: "Om! namo Narayanaya!" ("Orn! rispetto a Narayana!"). Ma se vengono a sapere che qualcuno adora Dio sotto il nome di Shankara, gli altri sadhu, quando lo incrociano, lo salutano pronunciando; "Shankara! Shankara!"
Il mio vicino è un naga (asceta nudo) del Panjab, giovane, bello e pio. Non conosce né teologia, né etica, né metafisica, come d'altronde ignora il sanscrito, ma mi dice che Dio sarebbe davvero meschino se si rivelasse solo ai sanscritisti. Il mio naga non pratica un'ascesi violenta, si contenta di una semplicità naturale e trascorre le giornate a leggere l'immenso Bhagavatapurana e a pronunciare una stessa parola: "Shankara". Quando lo interrogo sulla salvezza della sua anima, mi risponde che basta per questo pronunciare il nome divino. La notte, tuttavia, pratica il pranayama (yoga del respiro), e spesso mi ha invitato nella sua capanna allo spuntar delle stelle per iniziarmi a questa tecnica che prolunga la coscienza nel sonno -un sonno senza sogni- e persino nella catalessi. Il suo è il ben noto metodo della scuola dello hathayoga, così come viene praticata nello Himalaya e nel Tibet. Si tappa le orecchie con la cera e adotta una posizione stabile (asana), le gambe incrociate, la schiena perpendicolare (in modo che i plessi, sacro, prostatico, solare, cardiaco, faringeo e cavernoso coincidano su una stessa linea mediana che comincia dal muladharachakra e termina nel sahasrarachakra), le mani in equilibrio sui ginocchi, gli occhi chiusi, mentre si concentra sul "plesso sottile" (ajnachakra) situato tra i sopraccigli. Dopo aver ottenuto la concentrazione necessaria (pratyahara, vale a dire l'annullamento delle attività sensoriali periferiche), la satura ripetendo mentalmente il mantra "Om", poi rallenta a poco a poco il ritmo respiratorio distanziando sempre più le inspirazioni, fino ad arrivare a una inspirazione ogni quattro secondi. Il corpo acquista un'immobilità rigida, talvolta catalettica, e si può costatare dal suo ritmo respiratorio che l'asceta dorme, nel senso che tutte le sue attività sensoriali e mentali sono sospese. In questa condizione, liberato dagli ostacoli della vigile coscienza diurna, il naga esplora la zona inaccessibile del sonno. D'altronde, la pratica del pranayama non ha altro senso se non quello di spostare la coscienza della veglia in zone che normalmente appartengono all'inconscio... Quando lascio la capanna, egli conserva la stessa immobilità statuaria: non un muscolo facciale si muove, e si può seguire con precisione le tappe della sua respirazione ritmica -prima il gonfiarsi della parte inferiore dei polmoni per il ritirarsi del diaframma, poi della parte mediana per il sollevamento dello sterno, e infine della parte superiore attraverso l'incurvatura dell'arco toracico, come stabilisce ogni trattato di hathayoga.
... La libertà degli eremiti non concerne solo le pratiche religiose, ma anche la loro condotta personale. Ciascuno può fare ciò che vuole, prega quando gli va e rispetta le credenze di chiunque. Nessuno manifesta quell'atteggiamento rigido degli occidentali, che credono di essere i soli ad aver trovato il vero Dio e pensano che tutti gli altri siano degli eretici. Nessuno tenta di convertirti (questo pregiudizio semita del monoteista intollerante e proselita). Le loro conversazioni vertono sul Brahman, Dio uno, immanente in tutta la creazione e che tuttavia la trascende, perché è immutabile, non qualificato e non deducibile attraverso relazioni. I loro testi sacri: la Bhagavadgita, le Upanishad, l'Imitazione di Cristo, i Brahmasutra, col commento di Shankara, e gli Yogasutra di Patanjali. Ma non leggono soltanto; meditano e mettono in pratica la spiritualità rivelata in questi libri. Gran parte del loro tempo la passano nella loro kutiya a pregare; la preghiera non è tuttavia sempre religiosa nel senso cristiano del termine, ma piuttosto un esercizio spirituale di purificazione interiore, un'"atletica" metafisica. Anche se non tutti sono filosofi, tutti pensano col loro cervello. Il loro pensiero e talora monotono, mediocre e poco immaginativo, improntato alla Gita e alla letteratura popolare religiosa, ed esprime fino alla sazietà quello stesso e sempre ricorrente motivo dell'identità profonda tra Atman e Brahman. Le conversazioni con questi sadhu sono sterili e stancanti, ma nessuno può dire fino a che punto abbiano portato a compimento quella banale verità, fino a che punto il loro "dogma" resti una semplice e vacua formulazione.
In ogni caso, sono particolarmente sorprendenti la loro indiscussa sincerità e la loro totale tolleranza per qualsiasi fede, da qualunque parte provenga. Le si riscontrano persino nei sadhu più mediocri, sempre ansiosi di sentir parlare di Gesù Cristo, di san Francesco, di Kabir, di Guru Nanak e di qualsiasi altro guru inviato da Dio. Da quando mi sono stabilito all'ashram, sono venuti a farmi domande sul cristianesimo e hanno tanto amato le storie di fra Lorenzo (nei Fioretti francescani) e alcune delle pie leggende medievali che mi hanno pregato di ripeterle ogni giorno. Tutti considerano Gesù come il figlio di Dio e lo chiamano Lord Jesus alla maniera dei missionari. Ciò non impedisce assolutamente di considerare Buddha, Krishna e altri, uguali a Cristo. Non possono accettare limiti o zone geografiche al manifestarsi della divinità. Il loro spirito panteista è evidente sino nelle più semplici affermazioni metafisiche. E i risultati sono toccanti. Un vecchio sadhu, maestro insuperabile nel parlare sanscrito, mi ha abbracciato al nostro primo incontro e si è messo a piangere dicendomi: "Siamo tutti Uno!" Si sono liberati dell'insopportabile curiosità degli europei, e nessuno finora mi ha chiesto se fossi protestante, anglicano, cattolico o ortodosso. Un giorno ho messo alla prova uno swami domandandogli se era necessario iniziarsi all'induismo per conoscere Dio. Questa domanda l'ha fortemente sorpreso e mi ha risposto che nessuna conversione era necessaria, che se io amavo l'induismo potevo accettarne gli ideali: ecco tutto. Nondimeno ha aggiunto che se il mio amore dell'induismo era sincero, questo proverebbe solo una cosa: che ero stato un indiano in una mia precedente esistenza.
Dicono "noi tutti siamo Uno" e, ciò che è importante, non cessano di mettere in pratica questa affermazione. Si aiutano l'un l'altro, si privano della loro personalità davanti agli amici e praticano la seva (servizio). Un certo swami alla soglia della vecchiaia è celebre per il suo comportamento. Non lavora mai per sé, benché sgobbi come un bracciante di notte e di giorno. Pulisce le kutiya dei suoi vicini, lava la biancheria per i malati, fa il te per tutti, accende le lampade, è il messaggero di ciascuno, ed è di una modestia e di una umiltà francescana. Alcuni giorni dopo il mio arrivo all'ashram, è venuto a piantare un cespo di fiori sotto la mia finestra, perché ogni mattino, al mio risveglio, mi rallegrassi gli occhi.
Un giorno ho accompagnato a Brahmapuri, ad alcune miglia nella giungla, a monte del Gange, una miss venuta a visitare Swarga-Ashram. Vi si trovano numerose grotte e una era il riparo di un sadhu del Malabar, di cui non si sapeva che cosa ammirare di più: la scienza o la santità. Ci siamo seduti sulla sabbia fredda della grotta e, benché fossimo venuti a imparare da lui, è lui che si è messo a fare domande a noi. Ci ha mostrato le Confessioni di Agostino chiedendo a questa miss se avesse letto l'Imitazione di Cristo. Alla sua risposta negativa, le ha consigliato con dolcezza : "La legga, perché è uno dei più grandi libri che siano mai stati scritti su questa terra". Allora sono arrossito ancora una volta per la vanità e i peccati degli europei venuti a convertire l'Asia.
A colloquio con Shrimati Devi
In India ogni donna è una Devi, una dea. Quando ci si rivolge a una donna sposata o a una ragazza, quali che ne siano il rango o l'età, non si pronuncia mai il nome della famiglia -si aggiunge Devi dopo il suo nome. Così, Indira Sen diviene Indira Devi; Kamala Chatterji, Kamala Devi.
Questo particolare è significativo. L'India non ravvisa nella donna né la vergine né l'amante. L'India vede unicamente la dea, il sacrificio creatore, la madre. Accanto alla maternità ogni altra virtù femminile impallidisce. Ogni donna e adorata perché è o diventerà madre. Ecco perché, quando si conosce troppo bene una donna per poterla ancora chiamare Devi, la si chiama madre. Anche se si tratta soltanto di una giovane contadina o di una studentessa adolescente.
Sulla donna asiatica, e particolarmente su quella indiana, si sono dette e scritte una quantità di sciocchezze. Pittoresche e verosimili, sono state credute per il solo fatto che lusingavano la nostra immaginazione e i nostri pregiudizi di occidentali civilizzati. Ascoltate ora ciò che mi ha detto un'indiana. Trascrivo i frammenti di quanto ho udito un po' di tempo fa, una sera di febbraio, su una terrazza di Bhoswanipur.
- Le nostre sorelle d'Europa e d'America sono abituate a compiangerci. Credono che le donne indiane siano asservite negli harem, prive di qualsiasi distrazione e libertà, desiderose di affrancarsi. È vero che esistono casi del genere, ma non appartengono alla società indù. In realtà le europee vedono nella nostra vita un'esistenza priva di romanticismo, di avventura e d'imprevisto. E ne concludono che siamo infelici. Ora, davvero ci sentiremmo infelici, afflitte, violentate, se dovessimo condurre la loro vita, nella libertà degli istinti e nella confusione sociale. In primo luogo, la libertà non ci interessa.
È un'illusione della quale ognuno si libererà prima o poi. La nostra vita è determinata dalla sorte, dal karman, e ogni evasione non fa che stringere ancora di più la catena del destino. D'altronde il romanticismo non ci sembra indispensabile alla felicità. Per noi la felicità non è un capriccio, un momento passeggero e irresponsabile, né una qualunque fatuità passionale o sentimentale. Questo genere di passioni lo chiamiamo moha, ma non e la felicità. Non so se può comprendere, ma, per un'indiana, la felicità non risiede mai nell'iniziativa, bensì nell'istituzione, il che significa consacrarsi totalmente a un ideale antico di migliaia di anni: l'ideale della famiglia e dell'educazione dei figli. La beatitudine e la liberazione finale esistono in quanto rinunciamo agli effimeri capricci passionali -nulla più che affanni- per cercare di raggiungere la perfezione delle nostre madri.
E poi non siamo sole: portiamo in noi l'esperienza millenaria della castità, della fierezza materna, della dignità e dell'eroismo. In ogni rituale religioso comunichiamo con l'immagine delle nostre antenate. Né ci separiamo mai dalle nostre madri...
Le nostre sorelle europee asseriscono che noi conduciamo una vita monotona e che siamo schiave. Ora lei è qui da abbastanza tempo per aver potuto costatare che non è assolutamente una questione di schiavitù. La sposa è la padrona della casa, salvo il caso in cui sia ancora viva la madre del marito. La sposa tiene la contabilità, decide gli acquisti e dirige tutto. Se non si vedono donne per strada, questo non significa affatto che non possono uscire, ma che non vogliono, perché la strada non le interessa, perché non hanno tempo da perdere. Avrà potuto ugualmente notare che la "casa", in India, è assai diversa da quelle che si trovano altrove. Anzitutto, essa conta tra i dieci e i trenta membri. Poi, la responsabilità del suo buon andamento spetta alla sposa. Il più grande piacere che lei possa fare a un'indiana è di chiederle di servirla: di prepararle da mangiare, di bollirle del latte, di pulirle la camera. Noi ignoriamo l'aristocrazia della pigrizia. Siamo felici quando possiamo lavare e fare pulizia in tutta la casa. Seva (servizio), ecco l'ideale dell'indiana. Ma, ripeto, è una cosa che amiamo, senza bisogno che ci venga imposta. Abbiamo tanti domestici che, se volessimo vivere pigramente, non per questo la casa sarebbe meno pulita.
Solo al cinema la vita delle europee ci entusiasma. Per questo le sale del quartiere sono piene di indiane. Se esse trovano cosi buffe le europee e perché queste si danno ad attività maschili. A casa ci divertiamo a imitare gli uomini, a scimmiottarne l'aria di superiorità. Ma, da quando c'è il cinema, ci divertiamo di più a guardare le attrici bianche.
Spesso i film ci fanno scoppiare a ridere, a volte anche davanti a un avvenimento tragico, e allora i nostri mariti ci rimproverano. È ammirevole essere una donna europea, ma come fanno a sopportare una comicità cosi prolungata? Noi moriremmo di noia. Esse vedono tanta di quella gente che non hanno il tempo di riflettere su di essa, né di imparare quale sia il caso di evitare e quale no. La loro vita è molto monotona. Un giorno sono andata con diverse famiglie indiane a un garden-party e abbiamo ascoltato del jazz. Ebbene, non avevo mai ascoltato niente di cosi noioso e rumoroso. E tuttavia pare che il jazz esalti le donne bianche. Strano.
... Non può ignorare quanto sia pittoresca la vita di una sposa indiana. Soprattutto quanto sia piena. Vediamo poco i nostri mariti, ma tutto quello che facciamo lo facciamo pensando a loro. Per questo ci sentite sempre cantare. Non stanchiamo mai il marito con la nostra presenza, lasciamo che sia lui a desiderarla e a cercarla. Vede, noi non ci sposiamo per amore, amiamo solo dopo esserci sposate. Amiamo nostro marito perché è lo sposo che ci era destinato. D'altronde ognuno sa che nella vita ci sono tre atti capitali nei quali non si può intervenire; la nascita, il matrimonio e la morte. Nasciamo, ci sposiamo, moriamo conformemente al karman. Per questa ragione, il nostro sposo è veramente nostro, da migliaia di anni, attraverso tante e tante trasmigrazioni. Questo è il fatto essenziale: altre esperienze sono superflue. Ciò spiega perché in India ci siano così pochi matrimoni infelici, e praticamente non esista divorzio.
... Ogni indiana sogna d'imitare una delle eroine del Mahabharata o del Rarvayana. Ognuna ambisce a divenire una dea. Con tali vertici davanti a noi, cosa ce ne faremmo della capricciosa libertà delle nostre sorelle europee? La getteremmo al vento come fiori di loto sul fiume, senza per questo abbandonare l'altare eretto a riva. Perché, vede, non esiste felicità passeggera, non c'è beatitudine che nell'eternità. Il resto è cinema e jazz...
Discussione con un nazionalista indiano
Il 22 aprile 1930, mi è accaduto un fatto che racconto qui non perché sia unico o più crudele di altri nella storia della rivolta civile indiana, ma semplicemente perché è successo proprio a me. Attraverso giornali e libri, o per sentito dire, avevo saputo, come chiunque altro, le decine dei fatti più gravi e atroci. Ma veniamo a quello di cui sono stato testimone. Mi trovavo nell'ottima libreria sanscrita al numero 4 di College Square, nei pressi dell'università, di fronte a un parco rallegrato da un lago e da alcune palme, come ce ne sono almeno due dozzine a Calcutta. Ero felice perché il ventilatore mi isolava dal caldo esterno, perché sfogliavo libri preziosi, ed ero orgoglioso come qualsiasi bianco che studi la filosofia indiana, con la speranza di divenire un giorno saggio.
Non avevo fatto molto caso alla folla ammassata nel parco e nelle strade. Una riunione politica. Si sarebbero fatti gli stessi discorsi e nuovi cortei di studenti e studentesse avrebbero invitato al boicottaggio delle merci britanniche. Si era nel pieno della campagna di disubbidienza civile. Niente di nuovo per me. Avevo già assistito a molti arresti e, siccome ero un bianco, avevo spesso incrociato sguardi carichi d'odio. Molto bene, mi ero detto, avviandomi in fretta verso la libreria. Alla fine di aprile -da non dimenticare- il caldo è soffocante, spossante. In strada non si riesce neppure a pensate. Solo sotto le pale di un ventilatore che smuove l'aria è possibile. Fuori, un deserto esasperato dal rumore e dai clacson, un deserto dove non si scorge presenza umana, benché si sia urtati di continuo da persone vive e vegete. Una volta messo il casco di sughero e aver chiuso la porta dietro di sé, uno sa solo il numero del tramway che deve prendere e la fermata dove scendere. Da Bhoswanipur, dove abitavo, a College Square, si deve attraversare metà città- circa un'ora di tramway fra coincidenze e attese. Era già molto se mi ricordavo chi fossi: in simili condizioni la mente è incapace di uno sforzo che vada più in la del semplice ricordo. Ma dopo un certo tempo anche il ricordo si affievolisce; non resta che la molle fiacchezza del corpo, le delizie del riposo, e l'animale ben nutrito, col suo casco coloniale e gli occhiali scuri, che avanza per inerzia in una pesantezza soffocante.
Mi attardavo nella libreria, sempre più incantato dalla mia intelligenza e dal mio sapere. Improvvisamente gli slogan si spensero nel parco, e al loro posto si levarono grida inumane, e uno scalpitio di cavalli che discendevano la strada in un finimondo di lamenti e urla. Un parapiglia: la folla cacciata dal parco, una carica a colpi di lathi (i lunghi e sinistri manganelli della polizia indiana), altre grida, altro parapiglia. Il tutto veloce come un incubo. Avevo appena avuto il tempo di rimettere i libri sullo scaffale e precipitarmi verso la porta. Di là potevo vedere la polizia a cavallo (la gloriosa mounted police) respingere i manifestanti nelle strade adiacenti. Cordoni di studentesse bengalesi smembrati, manganelli che colpivano a casaccio dove e come capitava, teste spaccate e membra spezzate dappertutto. Ma è solo nell'India britannica che si vedono bambini calpestati dai cavalli, schiacciati dagli zoccoli, straziati a colpi di manganello.
I primi feriti erano stati trasportati nella libreria: solo bambini. Certuni non avevano neppure l'età per leggere. Erano stati condotti alla manifestazione con bandierine di carta colorata semplicemente per gridare "Vande Mataram!". Forse condotti lì con la speranza che la polizia a cavallo non avrebbe osato gettarsi contro di loro.
Qualcuno privo di conoscenza. Uno accecato, l'occhio uscito dall'orbita che pendeva simile a un uovo rotto pieno di sangue; sul collo una striscia di sangue mescolato a polvere. Un altro gridava silenziosamente: un grido che gli si leggeva sulle labbra, un grido lì lì per prorompere ma che subito si riassorbiva in un rantolo di svenimento. La maggior parte erano feriti alla testa per le manganellate, e piangevano sordamente, come piangono i bambini orientali quando non sanno perché hanno male. Altri...
La libreria era tutta una ferita, tutto un pianto. Si portava dell'acqua. Un ospedale in miniatura, come deve essere la casa di ogni indiano a detta di un propugnatore dello swaraj. Guardavo, forse umiliato dal colore delle mie mani, furioso e impotente, senza sapere se dovevo andarmene, prestare soccorso o maledire gli inglesi. Uno studente in dhoti di khaddar mi si avvicinò con fare provocatorio:
- E inglese?
- No, grazie a Dio!
- La diverte tutto questo?
Non avevo voglia di discutere. Ma lo sconosciuto aveva ripreso, come se fosse una questione vitale per lui insultare la razza bianca nella persona del primo incontrato:
- Sa, non servirà a nulla ciò che hanno fatto. Possono fare di peggio. Ma noi siamo centinaia di milioni. Non hanno abbastanza prigioni per la millesima parte di noi. Tutta l'amministrazione britannica salterà in aria se imprigionano mezzo milione di volontari... E le nostre madri, le nostre spose? Sa cosa hanno fatto ad Amritsar nel 1919? Le hanno violentate con i loro manganelli! Si, può leggere il rapporto del Congresso. D'altronde dovrebbe saperlo senza aver bisogno di leggerlo. Vada nei villaggi, chieda come procede la polizia. Con tutto ciò, che cosa hanno ottenuto finora? Si battono contro dei bambini. Quello che fanno è assurdo, ma sono in preda al panico, ecco tutto: agiscono con la paura di chi sa di giocare l'ultima carta... Poveri cristiani! Anche lei è cristiano sicuramente. Come scusa questi crimini?
- Nessuno li scusa - gli risposi, vedendo che il giovane insisteva nella domanda. - Sono cristiani della domenica, come ce ne sono in tutta Europa. Parlano del cristianesimo, ed è tutto. Non condanni una religione in base agli atti dei suoi pretesi fedeli.
- Ciò che dice è assurdo, sahib (nella bocca di uno studente questa parola suona sarcastica). Perché se la vostra religione non vi ha reso migliori in duemila anni, buttatela via e trovatevene una migliore. Ma voi mandate delle missioni qui in India. Perché non cominciate da casa vostra?
- Non capisco perché mi tratta come un inglese - replicai, imbarazzato nel vedere della gente raccogliersi attorno a noi.
- Perché è europeo. Se non ha vergogna di ciò che fanno i suoi fratelli in India, questo significa che è lo stesso per lei, e allora è di corte vedute, o ha paura, e allora è un vigliacco. Probabilmente anche a lei non interessa altro che l'Europa. Siete un popolo glorioso, civile, infallibile, voi! Siete bianchi, voi! Permetteteci di disprezzarvi fino all'odio. Avete bene di che vantarvi coi vostri libri e la vostra filosofia alla quale nessuno crede, noi vi siamo superiori. Vi siamo superiori perché sappiamo tutto dell'Europa, mentre voi non sapete niente dell'India. E lei, perché e venuto in India?
- Io? Per studiare la lingua e la filosofia indiana.
- E quello che ha visto non la fa vergognare?
- Io non prendo partito - risposi imbarazzato -, non faccio politica. Non ne ho il tempo, starò in India solo qualche anno. Cosa vuole? Lei è un privilegiato: è nato in India. Ha il tempo di occuparsi di politica. Ma io dovrò tornare nel mio paese.
- Ma la politica, in India, non è politica. La nostra lotta per l'indipendenza (swaraj) e la necessaria conclusione di tutta la nostra metafisica. Forse conosce i principali fondamenti della metafisica e mistica indiana: nessuno può trovare la propria salvezza tramite gli altri, nessuno può trovare la via, la verità, la libertà, attraverso gli altri. La nostra lotta si accorda con gli stessi principi della nostra coscienza filosofica: cosi come l'anima non può aspettarsi la liberazione (mukti) altro che dal suo proprio sforzo, allo stesso modo l'India non può liberarsi che attraverso il suo proprio sforzo. Non accettiamo aiuto dall'esterno. Nessuno può portarci aiuto. Nessuno può intervenire nel destino altrui. Non solo non ne ha il diritto, ma non ne ha la possibilità. Deve sapere che tale è la nostra filosofia. Allora, come credono gli inglesi di poter intervenire nei destini dell'India senza commettere un'infamia le cui conseguenze saranno per loro, un giorno, fatali?
- La Gran Bretagna non si pone tali problemi.
- Ha torto. È per questo che ritiene la sua dominazione un atto divino.
- Vi ha però dato un'amministrazione migliore.
- Ma, sahib, questo non ha niente a che vedere con l'India. Non chiediamo un'amministrazione eccellente. Chiediamo un'amministrazione che sia nostra. So che sarà peggiore, più incerta, piena di lacune e di abusi. Ma sarà la nostra. L'amministrazione britannica ci castra, ci fabbrica coscienze di schiavi, ci rende vigliacchi. Dopo cento anni di dominazione inglese, malgrado i loro treni, le loro industrie, le loro città moderne, il popolo indiano si trova sulla soglia della decadenza. Vivere bene non significa niente per un popolo ridotto in schiavitù. Quelli che la pensano diversamente sono già degli schiavi.
- Ma l'India -dissi io- non ha una coscienza nazionale.
- Da noi la coscienza nazionale non è sentita come da voi, in Europa. Per gli indiani, l'India non è un paese o una nazione. Qui ci sono tante razze, religioni, caste. Gli europei si perdono come in un caos, e si chiedono: cos'è l'India? Ebbene, sahib, per noi l'India è nostra Madre. Il nostro grido rivoluzionario non è che l'inizio dell'inno nazionale; sono le parole "Vande Mataram!" ("Omaggio alla Madre!") . Chieda a qualsiasi povero, in qualunque angolo dell'India, con quale nome chiama l'India, egli vi risponderà "Madre". La nostra lotta non è astratta, non è dovuta a principi astratti, né si limita alle rivendicazioni. La nostra lotta è una crociata per liberare nostra Madre. Ecco perché non è politica, ma mistica. Arriviamo alla libertà, come dice il Mahatma, attraverso la purificazione, la rinuncia individuale, la non-violenza e l'agonia.
La nostra politica è un apprendistato ascetico. I nostri uomini politici cominciano la loro carriera rinunciando totalmente alle cariche, alla fortuna, alla gloria, ai beni terreni. I nostri capi sono più poveri di noi. Non abbiamo bisogno di geni politici né di tattica politica. Il Mahatma non è un genio, è un santo. Non ha strategie, ha la sincerità. Anche i nostri più accaniti nemici l'hanno riconosciuto. È il solo uomo che sia riuscito a fondare la lotta politica sulla sincerità.
- E se tuttavia non riuscisse? Tentereste altri metodi, ad esempio i metodi europei?
- Anche noi abbiamo la nostra estrema sinistra, i nostri centri di terrorismo. Ricorreremo al terrore solo quando il Mahatma abdicherà. Da qui ad allora siamo legati alla parola che abbiamo dato a Ghandi: la non-violenza.
- Ma il terrorismo è un metodo che voi copiate dall'Europa.
- Niente affatto. Esso occupa a perfezione il suo posto nella nostra filosofia e nella nostra politica. Lo si trova già nell'Arthashastra, questo trattato politico scritto tre secoli prima dell'era cristiana. La non-violenza si situa sul piano della contemplazione (sattva), il terrore su quello dell'esplosione di energia (rajas). Ma entrambi appartengono alla coscienza indiana.
- E se non otterrete niente neppure col terrore?
- Allora toccherà a loro (e indico i fanciulli feriti) tentare altro o riprovare con la non-violenza. Vede, la nostra lotta non si misura in anni, ma in generazioni. L'India sa attendere, perché l'India non dimentica. Questi fanciulli non scorderanno la seconda campagna di disobbedienza civile. Anche se schiacceranno noi oggi, loro non li potranno schiacciare tra vent'anni...
Un silenzio penoso. Tirai fuori le sigarette e gliele offrii.
- Grazie, sahib, mio fratello è morto in prigione per aver boicottato le sigarette inglesi...
Sorrise vedendo che rinunciavo ad accenderla.
- Se quello che le ho detto la fa riflettere, cerchi di non fumare più sigarette inglesi... Arrivederci, sahib...
Mi salutò e se ne andò nel silenzio della libreria gremita. Quel 22 aprile non scrissi niente nel mio taccuino.
Holy Men of India: Introduction and Classification
Since the visit of the Alexander, the holy men of India have held a mysterious position to the westerners. Indeed, within India itself, their role is often misunderstood, although revered. The Naga Sadhus who descend the Himalayas during the Kumbh Mela are not the same as those worshipped as deities! The former practice cult religions such as Shakta or Naga and are typically known as Sadhus or ascetics. They are detached from life, although not necessarily devoid of its pleasures (like narcotics, sex etc.) The Sadhus practice rituals involving fire, water, yoga, and meditation, and beg for a living, following the lifestyle of Lord Shiva.
The Rishis or sages are regarded as the bearers of the ancient Vedic values. It is believed that the Rishis who were Hindu scholars and practiced metaphysics were the originators of the Vedas and the Hindu codes of conduct. They are revered as writers of Hindu epics such as Ramayana (by Sage Valmiki) and Mahabharata (by Sage Vyasa). The Rishis sought moksha through the way of knowledge (jnanamarga) and are believed to be blessed with divine knowledge. Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, Adi Shankaracharya, and Sahajananda are some of the well-known Sages and prayers are offered to them.
The three great Acharyas or preceptors, Shankaracharya, Ramanujacharya and Madhvacharya revived and reinterpreted different traditions of Sanatana Dharma. They preached Advaita (non-dualism), Visishtadvaita (Qualified Monism) and Dvaita (Dualism) respectively, which advocated soul-body relation. The teaching of great Acharyas was restricted to Sanskrit texts and upper castes, as they taught refining of the soul.
In medieval India, a profound social movement took place that was to shun caste based practices and reform Hinduism. Collectively, the proponents of this movement (see: The Bhakti Movement) are called as Santas (Saints) and they showed a new way to reach God -- through devotion (bhaktimarga). These servants of God composed brilliant music, created masterpieces of poetry and sang the Lord's glories.
The Swamijis widely followed by Hindu religious devotees are heads of sects or religious schools of thought (muthas). The Swamis are typically scholars initiated into religion from a young age and are philosophers. They run educational and social institutions, engage in philosophical debates and on occasion provide political directives.
It is common to depict the Swamis (who are elevated to the status of deities), engaged in worship of yet another deity. This is consistent with Hindu philosophy and thought which puts great emphasis in peer respect and mentorship (Guru).
Some of the Swamis who perform miracles gain divine status and a very devout following. For instance, Sai Baba and Raghavendra Swami are widely worshipped all over the world.
Then there are the pujaris or priests. They are the professional god-men and lead family life living in (typically) temples. They perform the Hindu rituals such as birth & death ceremonies, fund raising, daily and festival worships. They are typically but not necessarily Brahmins, and have inherited the profession.
Holiness
Spiritual adventurers, ascetic warriors, devout mystics, occult rebels or philosophic monks, the sadhus are revered by Hindus as representatives of the gods, sometimes even worshipped as gods themselves.
In India, holiness quite different from the same concept in the West. It is not necessarily (though often) associated with the "good." In fact, some all-India saints, such as Ramakrishna or Chaitanya, would be considered lunatics in the West. There is a long tradition of 'divine madness' in Hinduism.
Five-fire-austerity
Only sadhus belonging to the Ramanandi sect perform the five-fire-austerity, panch agni tapas or dhuni tap, as it is called. As one of the oldest forms of ascetic penance it is mentioned in ancient Hindu mythology. Originally it involved surrounding oneself with four fires, sitting in the bright and hot midday sun which would be the fifth fire. Nowadays is executed with varying numbers of fires, starting with five, and progressively increasing in number in the course of eighteen years, until the fires form a circle and the tapasvi carries a pot with fire on the head.
An integral part of the exercise is the ritual offering of foodstuffs to the smouldering heaps of cowdung, the holy fire, under the acompaniment of muttering mantras.
In this ascetic ritual the sadhu symbolically sacrifices himself to the fire, he has become the offering.
I must remark here that dhuni tap is executed in various degrees of seriousness and corresponding length of time per session. Some babas go through the motions and are finished in 15 minutes, others take 45 minutes to an hour.
There is some ostentatiousness involved too (as with most extreme austerities), for dhuni tap is usually done by the roadside, where pilgrims will certainly notice it. Awed, the pilgrims might be more willing to part with some donation. At the Ujjain Kumbha Mela of 1992, I noticed offerings of dung-cakes to dhuni tap babas just as it is portrayed on the 1729 engraving published in Tavernier.
Finally, dhuni tap confers status in the sadhu community.
Sacred fire
Many sadhus maintain a sacred fire, the dhuni, which is the centre around which their daily rituals and ascetic exercises are performed. In fact, it should be regarded as the sadhu's 'home' and his 'temple'. As an object of worship, offerings are made to the fire.
The sacred fire and its ashes are obviously related to Shiva, the fiery god and ash-covered Yogi, and is thus a prime symbol of ascetic status, indicating self-sacrifice, transformation in the 'fire of wisdom', and rebirth from the ashes.
Agni or 'Fire'; or the 'god of fire'.
Fire and its relation to the sacrifice was the dominating feature of the fire-cult in Vedic times. The sacrifice was a rite of sympathetic magic in which an offering was made to the gods, the celestial controllers of the mysterious and potent forces of nature, to ensure the continuance of conditions favourable to mankind. To be effective it was essential that the oblation should reach these all-powerful beings. None was more suitable to act as messenger than Agni, whose flames on the altar tended always to rise, as did the aroma of the 'burnt offerings', symbolizing the ascent of the oblation itself.
Important functions are attributed to Agni. He is inherent in every god; he is the priest of the gods, as well as the god of the priests; the honoured guest in every home, who by his magical power drives away the demons of darkness. Because he is born anew with every kindling, he is forever young and is thus the bestower of life and of children, and places seed in women. Being immortal he is able to confer immortality on his devotees. His chariot is drawn by red horses, who leave behind them a blackened trail. He clears a way through the impenetrable jungle and consumes the unwanted forest, so providing 'space' for his followers.
The funeral pyre is the altar of the dead, the last oblation to Agni.
Shmashana (cremation grounds)
Shiva's abode was the burning ground, which was "covered with hair and bones, full of skulls and heads, thick with vultures and jackals, covered with a hundred funeral pyres, an unclean place covered with flesh, a mire of marrow and blood, scattered piles of flesh, resounding with the cries of jackals" "There is nothing purer than a cremation ground," Shiva declared.
The hosts of ghostly beings that are his companions loved to dwell there, and Shiva did not like to stay anywhere without them.
Revulsion as a means of detachment had its form in the imagery of the cremation ground. It dwelt not on the cessation of life and the purgation of the body through the consuming fire, but on the byproducts of physical integration. Though gruesome, they were less terrifying than disgusting. Revulsion in its last degree of sublimation reaches up to holiness.
Shiva had turned away from procreation and dwelled in the cemeteries where he liked to stay. His 'necrophilia' complemented his aversion to procreation.
The explanation that the dreadful ghosts concentrated there around him would not harm people who thus could live free from fear was only part of his entire statement - which meant that those who feared the awful ghosts were destined to remain outsiders. Only heroes could be near him in the cremation ground, heroes who had defied death and liberated themselves from passions and fear. These were the true devotees of Rudra in his form of dread.
The metaphor of the cemetery is on the same level of intensity of realization with the myths of Shiva dancing while he carried Sati's dead body. These extreme situations are symbols of Shiva's power that defies death. Shiva liked his ghostly entourage. It attracted to his presence those who had nothing to fear, who had mastered the onslaught of the multiple categories of threatening powers that were fatal to those who were less than heroes, and who could not control the frightening phantoms because they had not controlled themselves.
The rite of cremation, well known in many countries of the ancient world, has a special justification in the case of the Hindu because of his belief in the reincarnation of the soul in a new body, human or other, a belief which excludes the idea of the resurrection of the body as held by Christians and Muslims, who ordinarily look forward to the miraculous reanimation of the corpse by divine decree at the Day of Judgment. [Therefore their elaborate tombs] From the Hindu point of view, it is evident that when the soul quits its mortal tenement, that tenement is of no further use or value, and its destruction by the purifying element of fire is for him a reasonable and convenient mode of disposing of the dead.
Enlightenment, spirituality
When you'd go to India and happened to encounter some sadhus you might be disappointed.
First you'd have to discriminate between impostors and real sadhus, those that belong for instance to a respectable line of gurus, or are members of a definite sadhu sect. Among the real sadhus you'd have to differentiate between the good, those that follow the ascetic and religious rules, and the bad, those that just have made a superficial adaptation to the rules. Once you've found a good sadhu, you'd have to realize that their 'spirituality' is of a different kind than what we generally mean with this word. Finally, true sages are rare, not to mention the really enlightened ones (if they exist, if enlightenment exists).
Those sadhus that are indifferent to spirituality (even if they perform the prescribed rituals and look their part), are usually involved in some kind of powerplay, all ego and ostentatiousness. This is nothing new. I'll quote a verse, attributed to Kabir, the fifteenth-century poet and mystic, about the Nagas, both Shaiva and Vaishnava:
"Never have I seen such yogis, brother. They wander mindless and negligent, proclaiming the way of Mahadeva. For this they are called great mahants. To markets and bazaars they peddle their meditation -- false siddhas, lovers of maya. When did Dattatreya attack a fort? When did Sukadeva join with gunners'? When did Narada fire a musket? When did Vyasadeva sound a battle cry? These numbskulls make war. Are they ascetics or archers? They profess detachment, but greed is their mind's resolve. They shame their profession by wearing gold. They collect stallions and mares, acquire villages, and go about as millionaires." (I found this quote in an excellent article by William Pinch on warrior-ascetics.)
Especially at Kumbha Melas , one meets a lot of the greedy, gold-wearing numbskulls. Contemporary Nagas don't fight much anymore (only occasionally at Kumbha Melas, such as the one in Haridwar 1998), but the majority don't meditate much either. They just smoke chilams and drink tea.
One more quote, from Ghurye's Indian Sadhus, p. 237, where he mentions "an observation by a modern Sadhu Ram Tirtha in about A.D. 1902: 'The Sadhus of India are a unique phenomenon peculiar to this country. As green mantel gathers over standing water, so have Sadhus collected over India ... Some of them are indeed beautiful lotuses -- the glory of the lake! But the vast majority are unhealthy scum.'"
But as things stand now in India, all sadhus are still considered holy men (though holy in varying degrees, I should add) by a large part of the population, no matter how unspiritual the behaviour and attitude of many babas. That's the mystery, the paradox.
Performers
With their costumes, their make-up, their 'props' and their public appearances, the sadhus in a sense resemble 'performance artists'. Many sadhus show great artistry in painting their face, adorning their body, decorating their stage and performing their act.
As emulators--as artists--of the divine, the sadhus endeavour to express the unearthly beauty of divinities. The sadhus' performances are both for the spiritual benefit of the public and for their own good, since their primary 'audience' is formed by the deities themselves.
Jata, long hair
For most of the time, jata is worn in a twisted knot or bundle on top of the head. It is 'opened' for special moments and rituals, like performing puja or taking a bath. Jata is treated with reverence: the strands are rubbed with ashes and cowdung, both sacred and purifying; it is scented and adorned with flowers.
As a typical feature of ascetics it is already mentioned in the ancient Vedas, as in the 'Hymn of the longhaired sage'. The sacredness of jata is exemplified by Shiva's powerful hair, with which he captures and controls the river Ganges, whose torrential descent from the heavens would otherwise have deluged the world. His jata are the foliage and the roots of the Himalayan trees. The tangled roots hanging down from the branches of the sacred Banyan tree are also called jata; it is his tree, with his jata. And they represent also Vayu the Wind-god, who in turn represents the subtle form of soma, which again is made manifest in the Ganges. So everything is connected.
Ganga
All water, be it the sea, rivers, lakes or rain, is for the Hindus a symbol of life and is considered to be of divine character. Outstanding in this respect are three sacred rivers, the Ganga, the Yamuna, and the mythical Sarasvati, of which the first is the most important. As the Ganga is feminine, it is often pictured as a woman, possessing long, flowing hair. As a goddess, Ganga washes away the sins of those fortunate enough to have their ashes thrown into her holy waters. In a hymn to the Ganga included in the Brahmavaivarta Purana, Shiva himself says, 'Mountains of sins accumulated by a sinner in the course of his millions of transmigrations on earth disappear at a mere touch of the sacred Ganga water. Cleansed will he be also, who even breathes some of the air moistened by the holy waters.' The touch of the divine body of Ganga is believed to change anyone who comes in contact with it into a sanctified being.
One of the most colourful stories in Indian mythology is that relating to the circumstances of the coming down of the Ganga from heaven:
Once upon a time there was a group of demons who used to tease Brahmin hermits and upset their prayers. When chased away, they would hide in the ocean, but return at night to resume their teasing. The ascetics then asked the sage Agastya to free them from the torture of temptation. Wishing to help, Agastya chose the easiest course, and swallowed the whole ocean, including the devils. The temptations thus came to an end but the earth was left without water. Men then had to appeal to another sage, Bhagiratha, to deliver them from the scourge of drought. In order to be worthy of a godly boon of such magnitude, Bhagiratha spent a thousand years in ascetic practices and then went before Brahma and asked him to let the heavenly river Ganga-one of the milky ways in the firmament-fall upon the earth.
Brahma, satisfied with the tapasya (ascetic performances) of Bhagiratha, promised to try his best, adding that he would first have to persuade Shiva to help him. He explained that if the great heavenly river fell upon the earth with all the force and immeasurable weight of its waters, earthquakes and unheard of destruction would result. Consequently, someone should interpose himself to absorb the shock of the falling water, and nobody else could do so save the almighty Shiva.
Bhagiratha continued his fastings and his prayers, and the time came when Shiva was moved. He allowed the Ganga to let her waters flow upon the earth and interposed his own head between the sky and the earth to lessen its impact. The heavenly waters then flowed smoothly through his divine hair into the Himalayas, and from there into the Indian plains, bringing prosperity, blessings from heaven, and the remission of sins.
More on Ganga:
Ganga: 'Swift-goer.' Name of the river Ganges and its personification as a goddess. The river rises from an ice-bed, 13,800 feet above sea-level, beyond Gangotri, i.e. 'the sacred manifestation of the Ganges', at Gaumukh..
The Indus, Yamuna, Narmada and other rivers have similarly become local objects of worship. But to the early Aryan intruders, temporarily halted in the Panjab, the Indus and Sarasvati were the only great Indian rivers known to them. Thus Ganga is mentioned in two passages only of the Rig Veda. and is invoked in hymns to rivers (X.75,5), simply as one of a number of river-goddesses.
With the Aryan occupation of the Gangetic basin, Ganga gradually became the chief river-goddess of a vast area, the subject of numerous legends, and endowed with fabulous virtues. Along the banks temples were erected, each the centre of pilgrimage at which priests could officiate and expect a multiplicity of sacrificial and other 'gifts'. Legend was piled on legend, some of them obviously priestly fictions invented to sustain the role of the priests as intermediaries between the goddess and her devotees.
A celestial Ganga called Abhraganga or Akasaganga was invented, who bore the epithet Devabhuti (flowing from heaven). It was also called Mandakini (the Milky Way), which issued from Vishnu's left foot; hence Ganga's epithet Visnupadi.
Not only will those who bathe in the Ganga obtain Svarga ('heaven'), but also those whose bones, hair, etc., are left on the banks. All the country through which the Ganges flows should be regarded as hallowed ground. Seeing, touching, or drinking the water or addressing the goddess as 'O mother Ganges', will remove all sin.
Future
My observations at the last Kumbha Melas (Haridwar 1998, Allahabad 2001) have reinforced my opinion that purity of sadhana and "spirituality" (perhaps some more categories), are in accelerating decline. One important factor here is the gradual disappearance of the old generation of sadhus. These are replaced by young Mahants and Shri Mahants, more interested in temporal than "spiritual" power.
So far the number of sadhus seems to remain steady. Even their prosperity seems to be increasing; perhaps the result of support from the growing middle class in India. Perhaps also because nowadays quite a few turn to a new clientele: the foreigners.
But this kind of modernization also involves, on the part of sadhus, a seduction by western gadgets and statussymbols (car, motorcyle, tv, radio, cassetteplayer, watch, etc.), exposure to gullible western tourists of the occult (easily intimidated into donating large sums of money) and temptation by its female contingent (no social control, sexually liberated, easily intimidated). This may lead to a weakening or even disappearing of the limits imposed by a proper sadhana, which in turn leads to loss of respect, and loss of power (in a "spiritual", not materialistic, sense). In another way, however, part of this (the use of mobile phones, email, and websites by sadhus nowadays) can only be seen as a pragmatic adaptation to the 21st century.
Hashish
Many sadhus smoke hash or grass as an everyday ritual. In their ascetic way of life as well as in their use of hash they follow god Shiva. They worship Shiva as the Lord of Yogis and as the hash smoking god, the Lord of Hash, forever intoxicated, forever High.
Other deities besides Shiva are worshipped too, such as Rama and Krishna (both manifestations of Vishnu). Or one of the many goddesses, like Kali or Durga. But in all sadhu-sects smokers are to be found - and nonsmokers. Some sadhus even condemn smoking as a bad habit of the lower castes, and as counterproductive.
Although nowadays hash is illegal in India, the smoking by sadhus - as an age-old tradition - is still tolerated.
But in India too the times are changing.
|
Standing the world on its head, Shiva Giri practices yoga everyday. This posture is emblematic for the life of a sadhu, for by 'reversing all values', by acting contrary to human nature, they intend to speed up enlightenment |
Performing a hatha yoga posture, the headstand, after the 'five-fire-austerity'. |
Holiness is still common in India. In most Hindu households, shops and businesses you will find altars and shrines, and the day is routinely started with worship of gods and gurus.
Many mountains, rivers, stones and trees are sacred. Dozens of cities are holy and, of course, the millions of temples and idols. Quite a few animals are holy -- the cow, of course, but also the bull, the monkey, the elephant, the peacock, the snake, the rat....
So it may come as no surprise that people can be holy too, though they have to become holy.
To Hindus, spiritual enlightenment has always represented the highest goal in life, the one thing that gives it meaning and purpose.
Moreover, enlightenment is a state of being that is in principle attainable by everybody. The average individual, however, would need many incarnations to become enlightened, to see God, to become one with the Absolute, to merge one's mind with Cosmic Consciousness -- in short, to become holy.
But since time immemorial shortcuts have been available for people wanting to become enlightened in this life rather than the next. Those who follow the fast track, mostly men, are the sadhus, the 'holy men' of India.
For thousands of years they have been around. Once they must have been more numerous, but even today there are still four to five million sadhus, constituting about half a percent of the total population.
Organised in various sects, they passed on the wisdom of old, the method of yoga, that is 'yoking' soul and Soul together.
The sadhus radically renounce 'the world' in order to focus entirely on the Higher Reality beyond. They abstain from sex, cut all family ties, have no possessions, no house, wear little or no clothing and eat little and simple food.
Usually they live by themselves, on the fringes of society, and spend their days in devotion to their chosen deity.
Some perform magical rituals to make contact with the gods, others practise intense forms of yoga and meditation to increase their spiritual powers and acquire mystical knowledge.
|
|
|
|
For an ordinary human being these 'basic' self-abnegations are already hard to comprehend. But almost unimaginable are the extreme self-mortifications by which a number of sadhus intend to speed up their enlightenment.
There are those who keep their right arm straight up until it degenerates into a kind of stick. Some do not sit and lay down for years on end, or keep silence for many years, or wear a 'chastity-belt' forever, or fast for a long time...
Most sadhus, however, take it a lot easier. And for many the main 'self-mortification' seems to be the smoking of hashish.
According to age-old tradition they follow the example of Shiva in this respect. To them Shiva is not only the Lord of Yogis, but also the Lord of Hash, the hash smoking god, forever High.
Shiva is the god of Destruction as well as Creation, which in a perpetual cyclical movement follow one another.
His body is covered with ashes, symbolic of death and regeneration.
Shiva is always naked, which symbolizes his primal condition, his non-attachment to the world.
His body shows feminine characteristics, like soft rounded contours and no beard, which is symbolic of his transcendence of opposites, the primal unity of polarities.
|
|
With half-closed eyes he is immersed in meditation, in divine bliss. The Ganges springs from his long hair, his jata, as a fountain, splashing in the Himalayan mountains in the distance. The crescent -- the new moon, 'Shiva's moon' -- on his forehead, the cobra around his neck, the white bull Nandi, the river Ganges, and the full moon form a symbolic cluster which indicates Shiva's function as a fertility deity, a moon god. On his forehead are three horizontal lines, painted with ashes, representing the three main gods, the three 'worlds', etc. Around his neck is a garland of 108 beads, the 108 elements of material creation, and in his hand a rosary of 50 beads, the 50 letters of the Sanskrit alphabet. The two large rings through his ears are indicative of his extra-sensory perception. He is seated on a tiger skin, a symbol of power, showing his mastery over the animal world. |
Shiva is often shown sitting in the cremation ground (shamashana), which symbolizes the correct attitude of a yogi to life. Shmashana is the end of the pysical phase of life. This is a prerequisite for every new creation. In appearance sadhus try to resemble the gods as they are known through ancient myths and popular legends, especially Shiva. Though Shiva is popularly known as the God of Destruction, for sadhus he is foremost the Master of Yogis.
Following his example, quite a few sadhus walk about naked, symbolising their renunciation of the world of mortals, and rub their body with ashes of their holy fires, symbolic of death and rebirth.
Many sadhus wear extremely long hair (jata), again in emulation of Lord Shiva, whose long strands of hair are regarded as the 'seat' of his supernatural powers.
Other deities besides Shiva are worshipped too, such as Rama or Krishna, who are both incarnations of Vishnu, a god who rivals with Shiva for the supreme position in the Hindu pantheon. Or one of the many goddesses, like Kali or Durga.
The allegiance of sadhus can be recognised by differences in the marks on their forehead, and the colour of their clothes.
In the past, there have been intense rivalries between the various sects, even leading to battle. But in essence all sadhus have the same roots
|
|
|
Holy Women
In contrast with the many young male sadhus, a beautiful young woman is but rarely seen in the brotherhood. About ten percent of sadhus are women, called sadhvis, but most of them are old, having become sadhvi after they were widowed.
This reflects the generally subordinate position of women in Indian society -- the popular belief is that women have to be born again as men before they can be spiritually liberated -- and the even more marginal position of widows.
Choosing the sadhu life was -- and still is -- about the only respectable way to escape from the 'living death' of widowhood.
Nevertheless, since time immemorial there have been female sadhus. And quite a few have, like their male counterparts, chosen the sadhu life in their teens, convinced as they were of their spiritual predestination.
Quite a few sects do not allow women because the celibates fear their 'corrupting influences'; some sects are mixed, but then female sadhus usually have their separate quarters; some minor subsects are all-female.
Though generally speaking their position in the spiritual hierarchy is inferior to men, there have always been great woman-saints and female sadhus are treated with much respect -- being for instance addressed as 'Mataji,' that is 'Revered Mother'.
Enlightenment
Certainly, not all sadhus are enlightened. But believers regard them all as holy anyway, if only because of their radical commitment. And successful sadhus are even worshipped as 'gods on earth'.
Believers only have to 'behold' a sadhu -- as a kind of living idol -- to receive a spark of his spiritual energy. They give donations to the sadhus -- regarded as offerings to the gods -- and get their blessing in return. Thus, since time immemorial, has Indian society been organised to support the holy men, for they are not supposed to work. But in India the times are changing too.
Fiction based on facts: Holy Extremists
In the early dawn, the mighty mountain of Girnar rises darkly against the bright orange sky. Here, so the Hindus believe, the gods once descended and since time immemorial this mountain has been a sacred place.
I'm not alone, I'm in the middle of a wide, endless stream of hundreds of thousands of pilgrims. Every February at new moon, the birthday of god Shiva is celebrated here.
To Hindus, Shiva is male Consciousness and female Power, the principle of Love. He is naked and without a beard, but he has very long hair, twisted into a bundle. He is the Lord of Yogis and completely covered with blue-grey ashes, the symbol of death and regeneration.
But this mass-pilgrimage has another reason as well: on this day more than a thousand sadhus will gather at Girnar and these are really worth the trip, also for a non-Hindu.
Ever since my first sojourn [in the 60's], these sadhus, who are revered as holy men by the Hindus, have fascinated me. These men and women - there are about five million - have chosen a form of worshipping god, to which a normal middle-European would react with incomprehensive astonishment.
There are babas who continuously keep one arm up for years on end; others `stand' day and night, even while sleeping, or they sit in one place and stay sitting there, till they die. And in order to control their sexual urge -- because sadhus must live chaste -- some reach for extreme methods: they wrap their penis around a stick, or, the intensified form, they wrap it around the blade of a sword. And I have seen myself, how a baba tied a rope to his penis and in this way lifted a heavy stone.
I decided to make a photo-book about sadhus, not only because of my fascination, but also because I believed that soon they wouldn't be there anymore in an India, which is changing into a modern industrial state.
But for now, they are still there in great numbers, without worries about new members. And as ever they are revered as holy men, wise teachers and understanding advisers, through whom the light of the deity shows itself. Just to see them is a joyful moment for many believers, and a source of new spiritual strength.
The sadhus who have gathered here, at mount Girnar, have chosen Lord Shiva as their example. They sit in a high-walled courtyard around several fires. One of them, about 50 years old, is an impressive baba, whom I have met before. He is sitting cross-legged behind a small fire. His naked body is completely covered with blue-grey ashes. "Om namah Shivaya," I say and bow respectfully. `I bow my head to Shiva', that is the traditional salutation towards a sadhu.
Sarasvati Giri is a real master at the damaru. He rattles two different sized drums simultaneously, each at a different speed, creating a specific rhythm. The damaru is the musical instrument of Shiva, with which he creates the primordial sound, the origin of all sounds.
Silently smiling, he gestures for me to sit next to him, and silently he continues with his ritual act: he sprinkles fresh marigolds around the fire, reciting magical formulae. With sadhus even the most normal activities like cooking, eating or bathing, become ceremonies in worship of Shiva.
The sadhus emulate their Lord Shiva, follow him, especially in his asceticism, which to them is the way towards enlightenment: to control the body so the spirit will be liberated. Sarasvati Giri, that is his name, rather shows by being naked, innocent like a child, that he is beyond all lust of the flesh and thus also beyond shame. Even female devotees may look at him and that in prudish India, where a movie in which a harmless kiss is shown, is considered very thrilling.
Not far away sits an elderly Naga in an orange dress, over which he wears a kind of rosary with beads of amber and crystal. Hari Giri is his name, and he obviously enjoys much respect -- in any case the pilgrims give generous donations, up to a 100 rupees (about U$ 3), and a large crowd has gathered around him, listening attentively to his stories, which he recounts with great ease and humour. For example the story of the thief, who was sentenced by the king to have his nose cut off. As soon as the punishment was carried out, the thief ran through the town beaming with joy and shouted: "I'm enlightened, I'm enlightened!" When the king heard this, he became jealous and had his nose cut off as well. That was the revenge of the thief... All laugh and applaud enthusiasti cally.
Hari Giri has two disciples a young man, whom I estimate to be twenty, whose hair reaches to his waist, and a good-looking young woman, who with loving care and devotion massages the feet of her Guru.
Respectfully I bow for Hari Giri, who nods at me smiling, and I sit down near the young man. Gradually we get into conversation, his name is Mohan Giri, and I ask him how old he is. I can't believe it when he tells me: he is already 45! I shake my head, no, that's impossible. He laughs and is amused by my incredulity. "Yoga," he explains. "And sexual abstinence." I ask him, how he became a baba an improper question, I know, since sadhus usually don't talk about their `former' life. But Mohan Giri doesn't mind my impoliteness, and is even prepared to tell me his life- story. When he was six, his parents died; there was nobody who wanted to take care of the boy and so he had to live out on the streets and beg for his food. "That was my karma," he says, his fate. One day he met an old baba, who took him in, and together they wandered through the land. But then the old baba died, and he had to look for a new Guru. Finally he found him... Mohan Giri glances at Hari Giri, who meanwhile is growing tired of all the stories he has to tell and all the questions he has to answer. He has kindly requested his audience to depart, so he can lie down and take a nap. Mohan Giri smiles. "This is the free life," he says. "We know no worries, we know only God."
The young woman, who had massaged the feet of her Guru, comes over to us and sits next to Mohan Giri. She is quite exceptional; not more than ten percent of sadhus are female, and most `sadhvis', as they are called, are old widows. A woman, whose husband has died, is usually relegated to the margins of Indian society. A life as sadhvi offers the women the opportunity tobecome old in dignity. And there have always been highly revered female Hindu saints. Sadhvis are treated with great respect and addressed as `Mataji', `Revered Mother'.
But such a young woman as sadhvi is unusual. I bow to her. "Mataji," I say and request her to allow me the question of how she became sadhvi. She looks the other way and keeps silent. Only when Mohan Giri encourages her, does she start talking about her former life: she was 13, when she ran away from home. "In a dream my Guru appeared," she tells. "My soul yearned for union with God, and so I went in search of my Guru." And indeed, at a festival, where many sadhus came, she recognized Hari Giri as the Guru of her dream. He, however, didn't want to have anything to do with her. But she was firmly convinced of her vocation as sadhvi. Her parents tried desperately to dissuade her from her plans to no avail. Finally Hari Giri accepted her as disciple and her parents agreed as well. Ever since, Deva Giri serves her Guru, the `Dispeller of Darkness'. In Hindi there are six words for love: `prema' means the purest form of love. Deva Giri looks at me and says: "it is prema." She wants to stay with him until he dies. Then she will look for a new Guru or live alone, as a respected mataji.
Shiva's birthday celebrations last for four days, after which I travel on to Ayodhya, the birthplace of god-king Rama. In the Ramayana epos it is told how his wife Sita was kidnapped by a ten-headed demon, absolute Evil, and how he fights and vanquishes the demon.
In Ayodhya there are many sadhus who emulate Rama. One of them is Bhagwan Das, who became famous as `standing baba'; only for sleeping did he lean over a kind of swing. Now I see him in the courtyard of his temple pleasantly reclining on a sofa. "Sita Rama, Sita Rima," he intones and kindly orders me to take my seat on the ground. His face is painted in bright red, yellow and white; his moustache is `cemented' with white clay, all in the shape of Rama's traditional symbol, and in the middle of the forehead a large red oval stands forth, the mark of Sita, the female principle. Bhagwan Das is stark naked except for a metal chastity belt, which covers his genitals. He has worn it almost all his life.
After a while I ask him why he is sitting down now and doesn't `stand' anymore. "Doctor's orders," he answers. His legs had become extremely swollen and covered with sores, moreover there was immediate danger of thrombosis. Then he followed the doctor's advice; a party was organized and Bhagwan Das festively sat down.
"How long did you stand?" I ask.
"28 years," he replies modestly.
"28 years? Whence does one get so much willpower?"
Bhagwan Das smiles and stares silently into space.
A small group of old men and women enters the courtyard of the temple. Their clothes are rather worn; these people surely had to save for years to make this pilgrimage. Timidly they approach the famous Bhagwan Das, fold their hands respectfully and bow low. Bhagwan Das raises his right hand and gives them the blessing of Rama. You can tell by their looks: They're happy.
Sadhus and Drugs
>Ramakrishnan Balasubramanian wrote: connecting shaivism by ancient myths connecting shiva to ganja.
I know myths picturing Shiva as Lord of Charas, good and stoned, I guess I`m allowed to search for more information on the phenomenon.
Many people may find the use of drugs in religion insulting, but this thread is drifting way off topic.
Since Hinduism derives its religious authority from the Vedas, and also from the Puranas, that would be the place to look. In light of any proof to the contrary, you must conclude that no such connection exists in classic or contemporary Hinduism. In one sense your question has been answered.
If you are looking for more information on the connection between
drugs and Sadhus, your search is really an anthropological one.
Many sources indicate that Shiva is a pre-Vedic God that was incorporated into Vedic religion as time passed.
As for Soma, it is only interpreted strictly as an intoxicating herb
by those who wish to see that aspect. (The beauty of any religion is that you can interpret it any way you want.) In the Mahabharata, Soma is the name most often used for the moon. In my quick perusal of other texts, Soma usually refers to the Elixir of Immortality, drunk by the Gods. It also is the sublimated sex energy brought to the third eye center. Shiva is shown, with a crescent moon on his forehead, "drunk" on the bliss from the energy of this center.
I think that contemporary Hindus may get upset at the attempt to
connect their religion with such things because that is all many
non-Hindus will see. Stuff like: Shiva is the God with the Bong,
tantra and the Kama Sutra are the sex things, and Yoga is the thing where you twist around like a pretzel. Unfortunately, most non-Hindus never examine the Vedas, Puranas, etc, and these myths are never dispelled. Certainly, my quick review of the literature, makes a very weak case for the scriptural authority of a Ganga\Shiva cult.
Rituals and Revolutions
(c) 98 by Richard S. Ehrlich
http://members.tripod.com/ehrlich/rituals3.html
INDIA
Chapter Three (excerpt)
Not all uprisings are filled with gunfire and geopolitical maneuvers. Some of the most extreme rituals and revolutions occur deep in the minds of individuals. In India, matted, ash-covered holymen "sadhus" twist their bodies into pretzelled positions, for days, months or years, in an effort to rapidly change their physical and spiritual perceptions. Sadhus try to free their imprisoned spirits from the shackles of their mortal bodies. They aim towards bliss. Unity with Hindu gods.
One sadhu stabs spikes into his body. Another holyman astounds audiences by tying a thick rope around his penis, and knotting it to a boulder. Using his groin muscles and intense concentration, he lifts the heavy rock, like hoisting an anchor from the sea. Intentionally using the penis to lift such weights is way of destroying sexual pleasure. The painful exercise tears apart the organ's nerves. The goal is to permanently banish sexual obsessions from causing distractions during deep meditation. A holyman may coil his sexual organ around a big stick, stretching all erogenous nerves past their breaking point, and brutally destroying erotic fervor. There are sadhus who sleep on nails, sadhus who live in caves, and sadhus who walk half-naked across India's cities, deserts and glaciers. Survival is difficult. Family, fortune, physical comforts, and ego must be abandoned. They wander as beggars in a land swarming with desperate people who are also pleading for alms. This tradition of renouncing the material world can be traced back 3,000 years ago to the times of pre-Vedic Hinduism.
Swami Jayaprakash Puri, a sadhu in the holy Hindu town of Hardwar along the Ganges River, suggested, "You should have a guru who will give you every cultural guidance, and teach you the way of eating, sleeping, living, preaching and worship. A guru will tell you not only about peace, but will give you protection. You will reside with him. He will know everything about you. You will know everything about him. I have been a sadhu for 15 years. Before that time, I was a student of economics in Dehra Dun. I completed my studies, but felt I was not a special man. I felt I was just like everyone else. I was cut off from humanity. Now, because I'm a sadhu, I am a special man."
Wrapped in a long, pumpkin-colored cloth, barefoot and bearded, Puri, 35, was transfixed by the rushing Ganges. As he spoke, other holymen came by. Sometimes, they nodded in agreement. Sitting in a circle, they began passing around an upright, funnel-shaped, clay "chillum" pipe packed with hashish and tobacco. Many sadhus smoke hashish every day. Puri gestured towards the smoke-bellowing chillum, grinned, and said, "This is our enjoyment. You must be clear in your heart. I wander all over India. I also get food from other sadhus. I like being a sadhu." He cheerfully took a massive hit on the pipe, held his breath, and exhaled, smiling. He proudly proclaimed, "I smoke hashish, this is my need. Hashish is God's gift. God is faith." He brought the pipe to his mouth again and inhaled more of the resin's bluish smoke. "I am going for salvation. I think to myself, 'What is our soul? What is our heart? Our feet? Hands? And why we feel angry and sleepiness?' These questions are the path to salvation." Completing a third deep drag on the pipe, he passed it to the next sadhu. After reflecting on the Ganges, Puri added, "Our soul? From where all the light is coming, that is our soul. The destruction and creation of the universe, that is our soul. We do not know about everything. The one thing in possession of God, is, we do not know the time. But the time will come."
There was a time when sadhus massacred each other by the thousands. They fought to be the first people to bathe in the Ganges at auspicious moments. The worst of the sadhu wars erupted in 1760 here in riverside Hardwar. Worshipers of the Hindu god Shiva, battled devotees of Vishnu, another Hindu god. Historians say thousands of sadhus were slaughtered before Shiva's side won. As victors, Shiva's sadhus got to dip themselves in the Ganges' fast-flowing waters at special, foretold moments during the Kumbha Mela festival, while everyone else had to wait. Devout Hindus believe bathing in the Ganges cleanses their sins, with startling effect. Bathing at Hardwar's fabled Har Ki Pauri ghat, during a Kumbha Mela festival, is said to bestow sould-purification equal to 1,000 horse sacrifices. But after washing away so many people's sins, the Ganges unfortunately retains some of the humans' evil. The river's waters must then be spiritually cleansed. To purify the Ganges, and make it sin-absorbant again, sadhus and saints must immerse themselves at key moments each year.
American author Mark Twain was stunned when he saw sadhus in India in 1895. "There was a holy man who sat naked by the day, and by the week, on a cluster of iron spikes, and did not seem to mind it," Twain wrote in More Tramps Abroad. "And another man who stood all day holding his withered arms motionless aloft, and was said to have been doing it for years. All these performers have a cloth on the ground beside them for receipt of contributions, and even the poorest of the poor give a trifle and hope that the sacrifice will be blessed to them. At last came a procession of naked holy people marching by and chanting, and I wrenched myself away."
But in 1915, Mohandas "Mahatma" Gandhi was irritated at how sadhus had degenerated from Hinduism's lofty spiritual ideals. They had formed decadent groups competing with each other for power. Gandhi wrote, "The swarm of sadhus who descend on Hardwar seem to have been born to enjoy the good things in life."
In 1954, sadhus were blocked from reaching the Ganges by the chaos of thousands of other devotees vying to wade in the river. Forcibly, the sadhus shoved their way forward. People panicked. The resulting stampede killed at least 500 people, though many believe the toll was much higher. Today, police are posted along the Ganges at Hardwar and elsehwere. They try to guard the area from stampedes, especially during festivals which attract millions of Indians from across the nation. The police also try to keep sadhus from squabbling among themselves. Some sadhu factions occasionally hurl cowshit or rocks at rivals for the right to bathe first.
No one knows how many loinclothed sadhus are rambling across India. According to some Indian statistics, there appears to be more than a million. Most sadhus are male. Anyone can declare himself to be a sadhu and worship in their own style. Such complete freedom means the ranks of sadhus are filled with schizophrenics and psychotics who feel insane inspiration. Others appear crazy simply from smoking so many chillums. Devious, Biblical-looking beggars loiter around Hindu temples, masquerading as sadhus to get fast cash from naive passersby. The public is often shocked when they see a sadhu's head laying in the dirt. On closer inspection, witnesses realize he has buried his entire body up to his neck, in an effort to attract coin-tossing viewers. Is he a real sadhu? A fake? A madman? During eclipses, some sadhus ignore government warnings not to stare at the sun. They defiantly gaze up at the celestial flames, which they fear are being devoured by a demon. As a result, some sadhus become permanently blind.
Nearby, where Puri and the others sat smoking, a sadhu with his hair in matted tangles casually reclined on a bed of nails. Silently, he indicated backsheesh could be dropped in his coin-filled, beat-up aluminum dish. A few naked holymen, called Naga sadhus, eventually arrived at the riverside nearby and began smearing their skin with sanctified white ashes. Naga means "snake" in Hindi and Sanskrit -- and many years ago when sadhus were warriors, these Naga sadhus were the fiercest. When it comes time for nude Nagas to plunge in the Ganges, nearby women will be ordered not to look.
Another group of sadhus along the Ganges, had brought along aluminum bowls filled with dried cow manure. Each sadhu arranged several bowls in a circle. Someone lit a match, and the dung ignited. A single sadhu then sat cross-legged in the dirt in the center of each flaming circle. One more bowlful of dung was balanced on each sadhu's head and then lit. The sadhus then closed their eyes and meditated, surrounded by flames, capped by a flaming bowl atop their heads. The purpose of the ring of fire is to create intense heat, akin to being baked alive in a big oven. Sadhus swear this process, coupled with a deep religious trance, produces "paramananda" or "supreme pure bliss."
One drug-ingesting sadhu, the late Bhagawan Shri Gopinath Ji, is still revered by followers in Kashmir and elsewhere. Bhagawanji, as he was affectionately known, achieved some strange mystical states. Bhagawanji lived in Kashmir's capital, Srinagar in 1930 and often plunged into a deep hallucinatory stupor, which he and others interpreted as transcendental.
"He would sometimes take handfuls of datura, opium, panak and other intoxicants in this period of intense sadhana," wrote devotee Nath Fotedar. "At times, Bhagawanji would vomit basinfuls of blood, and his body was wholly swollen and he looked like a ghoul. On one occasion during this period, his sister reminded him of the intense suffering which they were undergoing and suggested to him to take up a worldly life. His reply, firm and direct was, 'Our boat is in the midst of an ocean, either both of us will land safely or get drowned'." After seven years, "he came out of this great ordeal, clairvoyant and clairaudient, with full vision of the past, present and future. A siddha with a badly mauled body but a radiant soul."
Professor K. N. Dhar wrote in praise of Bhagawanji, "The inhaling of the smoke from the chillum acted as a fool-proof aid for having a psychic dialogue with the Supreme Being. Even at such planes of mystic exhilaration, the natural propensities of the human organs are reversed. Eyes can speak. Ears can see. And the mouth can feel."
A poem sung in Bhagawanji's honor emphasized this point: "Denying food for days and nights, he only kept his chillum live. And his mind got stamped with 'Om'." Bhagawanji's devotees also insisted he ultimately achieved, "undecaying super bliss."
In a set of scribbled "oracles," Bhagawanji explained the secret recipe for spiritual enlightenment. "Throw your 'self' in the simmering cauldron of incessant mental discipline, and bake it fully as that of the 'super self.' With the fire of self-scrutiny from below, and the non-leaking lid above it, make the self fool-proof from any norm whatsoever. This delicacy of the 'self' needs to be prepared with the fragrant spicy salt of self-education. Be vigilant that nothing leaks out of it. This fully fried 'self' should be tasted by himself only. Otherwise, O my Sentience, what have you attained on coming into this world?"
But despite all the chillums and rituals to Shiva, some sadhus have difficulty achieving any spiritual revolution at all. "I am trying to be a sadhu but it is so difficult," lamented a former Calcutta shopkeeper who sat in the shade under a big tree in Hardwar while gawking at the circles of fire created by the other sadhus. "I tried walking barefoot. But I hurt my feet, so now I wear these tennis shoes. I pray to Shiva. I get money from begging. I even smoke hashish with the other sadhus so I can witness God. But still I feel no liberation. And now I must make a pilgrimage up the Himalayas. My feet are killing me, my head hurts from the hashish, mosquitoes bite me all the time. And I'm always hungry. Other sadhus are just laughing at me. I was a shopkeeper for 22 years in Calcutta, and now I am seeking. But I cannot transcend so easily."
Important sadhu sects:
Sadhus belong to many different sects or orders.
The Naga babas
The Gorakhnathis or Yogis
The Udasin
The Aghoris
The Ramanandis
The Sakhis
Foreigner sadhus
Upon joining a sect, an apprentice-sadhu must undergo an initiation-rite, which is regarded as a symbolic death -- and a rebirth. He dies from his former, earthly life and is reborn into the divine life. The visible symbol of this rebirth is the shaven head of the novice, bald as a baby's.
After initiation, any talk or thought about the former life is discouraged; it is irrelevant now and age is reckoned from the new birthday.
The bond with the guru is now all important. He is the 'dispeller of darkness', the guide for piercing the Veil of Illusion. The guru is father, mother and teacher -- and the disciple worships his guru as god incarnate; he will please him any way he can (in the ideal case, anyway). Most sects are rather moderate in their practices, but some can be quite extreme.
The Naga sadhus or 'warrior-ascetics'
One large and prominent Shaiva sect consists of the 'warrior ascetics', or Nagas (the 'naked'), who have existed since the prehistoric past.
Though sadhus in general can de characterized as peace-loving, the Nagas used to be extremely militant, fighting with rivalling sects, the Muslims and later even the British. They were excellent fighters for they had no fear of death.
Traces of this 'macho' attitude are still discernible today. The Naga sect is subdivided into Akharas, i.e. 'regiments', like an army. Their bellicose past is visible in their display of weaponry -- sticks, spears, swords and especially the trident -- but nowadays these have a mostly symbolic function.
Among the Nagas -- as this name would lead us to expect -- we still find many sadhus who walk about naked. In other respects as well they represent the ideal image of the sadhu as it was created thousands of years ago.
|
|
|
|
|
Shyam Giri and Ram Giri, two Naga babas of the Juna Akhara.
|
Saraswati Giri is a real master at the damaru. He rattles two different-sized drums simultaneously, each at a different speed, creating a specific rhythm. It is an active form of meditation and performing it for any length of time requires great concentration and physical strength.
|
High up in the icy Himalayas, but naked all the same, Bhola Giri Naga baba blows the serpentine horn, called nagphani, that is, 'cobra-hood', producing one piercing note. This instrument is related to the cobra (naga), the intimate companion of Lord Shiva, always coiled around his neck.
|
|
|
|
|
|
With a certain degree of 'exhibitionism' these Babas are displaying their various penis-penances. But then, they are here to give darshan, to show themselves and the visible signs of their austerities to the faithful; and the erotic element is lacking of course. In their nakedness they do not emanate sexuality. On the contrary, they control, inhibit the sexual 'vibrations', retaining its energy so it can be mystically transformed into psychic and spiritual power.
|
Lal Baba keeps a special triangular stone for his lingasana (see below), on which is painted "30 kilos". He has developed this exercise into a regular show and even advertises himself as "lingasana Naga Baba" on painted boards (in the background). He is a small man so he has to stand on two bricks to lift the stone a few centimetres off the ground. But still, no mean feat: thirty kilos must be more than half his own weight. |
Lifting weights with the penis, as done here by Shyam Puri, is in essence the same exercise as the chabi (see above). It is a 'miracle' that the penis is not torn off. The scene recalls the chains used in the past to weigh down the penis continuously, but this exercise is now only occasionally done, and then for a minute or so. Just long enough to show the sadhu's power, his transcendence of sexuality |
The Baba on the left wears a metal ring around his penis, an ornamental remnant of the large chainssome ascetics used to wear some time ago.
The Baba on the right performs a yogic exercise which goes by the name of chabi, meaning 'key'. The aim of this exercise is not just retention of the sexual energy, but forcing it back, and 'up'.
Put in simplistic yoga 'mechanics': keeping the penis down so the kundalini may rise.
Strangely enough, lifting weights with the penis does not have a special name, but is generally designated as a kriya (yogic exercise). Lal Baba (see above, photo 2339) uses the term lingasana (penis-posture), which he probably coined himself.
In a sense it is reminiscent of the now historic kara-lingi, the ball-and-chain with which the penis was continuously weighed down. As Abbé Dubois, a French missionary who lived in India from 1792 to 1823, observed in his Hindu Manners, Customs and Ceremonies: "they attach to their generative organs a heavy weight which they drag about until the power of muscles and nerves is completely destroyed."
So the aim of these exercises (lingasana and chabi) is certainly not to enlarge the penis, as some rumours would have it, but rather to desensitize the penis, to destroy its erectile capacity. Whether this aim is actually achieved is hard to say, but it is a fact that the dozens of sadhus that I have observed performing these exercises did not have a larger than normal penis.
The Gorakhnathis or Jogis
The Gorakhnathis are commonly referred to as Yogis or Jogis.
Although in outlook very similar to the sannyasis, the Jogis do not follow the Vedantic teachings of Shankara, but adhere to the Tantric way taught by their Guru-founder Gorakhnath. Still, they are devotees of Shiva, albeit in his manifestation as Bhairava, and they worship Hanuman and Dattatreya.
Gorakhnath, being an incarnation of Shiva, is worshipped as a deity by the Jogis, and has a number of temples dedicated to him. The Jogis are therefore often designated as 'Gorakhnathis', or more simply 'Nath-Babas'.
|
|
Pagal Mauni Baba belongs to the Aghori section of the Gorakhnathis. As his name reveals, this Baba is 'mad, divinely intoxicated' (pagal) and 'non-speaking' (mauni).
|
The Udasin
The major sect of Udasin ascetics was originally not Shaiva -- nor even Hindu -- but belonged to the Sikh religion. It was founded in the sixteenth century by a son of Guru Nanak -- himself the founder of Sikhism -- called Shrichandra.
The Udasin are therefore also known as Nanakputras, the 'sons of Nanak', and they revere the Grantha Saheb, the sacred book of the Sikhs.
They were excommunicated by the successor of Guru Nanak and gradually turned to Hinduism.
The Udasin worship panchayatana, a combination of five deities, namely Shiva, Vishnu, the Sun, goddess Durga, and Ganesh; moreover they worship their founder-Guru Shrichandra.
Their philosophy is basically the monistic Vedanta as set forth by Shankara, and in other respects as well they closely resemble the Shaiva sannyasis.
Like all Shaiva sannyasis, the Udasin usually wear red or black cloth, apply ashes, have long hair in jata, and so on, but differ in details such as their woollen knitted caps and a small silver crescent ring in the right ear. Furthermore, whenever they had to choose sides in fights with rivalling sects, they were on the side of the Shaivas.
The Aghoris
Holiness cannot only be macho, but even 'crazy', god-possessed, as it is shown by the members of a rather obscure and small sect, the Aghoris.
They emulate the most extreme characteristics of Lord Shiva as the Conqueror of Death: his favourite haunt is the cremation-grounds; he bathes in cremation-ashes; he wears a garland of skulls and bones; he keeps spirits and ghosts for company; he is continuously intoxicated; and he acts like a madman.
The Aghoris willingly transgress all ascetic (and Hindu) taboos, convinced as they are that by 'reversing all values' they will speed up enlightenment. While all sadhus are supposed to be vegetarian and teetotallers (like all ordinary Hindus for that matter), Aghoris eat meat and drink alcohol.
Even more horrid habits are attributed to Aghoris: they eat the putrid flesh of corpses; they eat excrement and drink urine, even of a dog; they have ritual intercourse with menstruating prostitutes on the cremation-grounds, where they usually hang out; and they meditate while sitting on a corpse.
It is questionable whether all this is regularly done, but it seems quite certain that at least occasionally, and then in a ritual context, as a kind of 'eucharist', these cannibalistic and other 'inhuman' acts are still taking place.
Aghoris preferably live on cremationgrounds and surround themselves with artifacts of death, like human skulls out of which they drink and with which they perform magical rituals.
Nonetheless, the Aghoris represent a tradition that is thousands of years old, and there have been times that the sect was quite numerous.
|
|
Drinking out of a human skull is only one of the striking peculiarities that differentiates Gauri Shankar Mishra from the average ascetic. He drinks liquor (forbidden to caste Hindus and certainly ascetics), eats the flesh of dead animals found in the street and abuses people with foul obscenities. |
The Ramanandis
In the beginning of the fourteenth century, a very successful ascetic sect was founded by Ramananda: the Ramananda Sampradaya, more popularly known as the Ramanandis.
Nowadays, because of its dominant position, it is regarded as a separate organization, but officially it is still part of the Shri Sampradaya, for Ramananda started his ascetic career as a member of this sect. He remained loyal to the philosophy of its founder Ramanuja, but he choose Rama and Sita as personal gods, and made devotion to them the central feature of the sect's religious practices
On the poster below Rama and Sita are surrounded by the main characters of the Ramayana and the Hindu pantheon. Kneeling before them is their faithful servant Hanuman, the monkey-god and general of the monkey army.
The epic Ramayana, with its many exemplary adventures of Rama, is the primary source of inspiration for shaping the attitude of exclusive, one-pointed devotion to Rama which is the hallmark of a Rama devotee.
|
|
Rama plays an important part in contemporary Hinduism. He lives in the hearts of the common people. He rules the lives of sadhus devoted to him. For many sadhus, memorizing, analyzing, and absorbing the Ramayana is a life-time pursuit, and some become professional exegetes, reciting and interpreting the texts to the public. It is believed that just hearing the sacred words of the Ramayana is in itself liberating and will confer the grace of Rama. And in an even simpler way, continuous recitation of the name of Rama from the heart will enlighten the soul. In fact, in this Dark Age, Rama's devotees regard it as the only way to reach the Absolute. And if enligtenment does not happen in one's life, it may happen at the moment of death, that is, if one dies thinking of Rama and with his name on one's lips. As it is chanted by the mourners in funeral processions: "Rama nama satya hai!", "the name of Rama is Truth." |
Celibacy is no doubt the most important austerity practised by sadhus. According to Yoga-metaphysics, sexual energy, the fire of passion, is the main potential source of spiritual energy.
But as an aid to mental control of sexuality, physical restraint must sometimes be employed and one method is the continuous wearing of 'chastity belts'.
|
|
Sects can be recognized by the symbols painted on the forehead, but within a sect the marks are seldom entirely identical. Most sadhus give it a personal touch. But some make more extreme variations on the fundamental theme. The result can be quite impressive, as is shown by Hanuman Hari Das, but it does not necessarily imply a higher status. Nor does it, by itself, reflect a higher degree of spirituality
Right: Kailas Das has worn this steel chastity-belt for fifty years. He is also known as Mauni Baba, for he did not speak for twelve years |
|
|
|
This wooden arbandh with its wooden langoti attached, may quite rightly be called a 'chastity-belt'; only this one is self-imposed. The langoti can be unhooked for cleaning, but the arbandh of course stays on all the time. Jaganath Das has worn the belt for thirteen years and has vowed to remain doing so for life. This austerity, like most, is usually undertaken for a minimum of twelve years. dhoti usually, modestly, covers this wooden underwear, but as these Bab's are about to take a bath, they have a valid reason to take it off. |
|
The Sakhis or religious transvestites
Sadhus who have chosen Rama or Krishna as their deity, are characterized by a strong, sentimental devotion and total self-surrender to one of his earthly 'incarnations' as the god-king Rama or the divine cowherd Krishna.
The deity is regarded as a 'person' with whom the devotee can establish an intimate bond, which usually takes the form of a Master-slave relationship.
Some sadhus, however, dare to regard him as their Lover, and since the deity is a male, it follows quite logically that they have to play the part of 'mistress' of the Lord. They are designated as sakhis. They imagine having an erotic 'love' relationship with him. Some sakhis even go to the extreme of pretending to have regular sexual intercourse with their Lord -- except on the days when they're having their 'period'.
Obviously, the sexual overtones of their behaviour make them rather suspect in the eyes of other ascetics, since repression of sexuality is the norm, not its projection. Even if this projection is aimed at a deity. Nevertheless, it is a recognized way of expressing devotion to a deity -- and devotion is a characteristic of all sadhus.
|
|
A sakhi, who regards Lord Rama as her Lover. These transvestite sadhus are to be distinguished from another group of transvestites, or rather eunuchs, who practise prostitution and obnoxious forms of begging. The hijras, as they are known, are completely castrated upon initiation into their order. They are regarded as 'neither man nor woman', but they dress like women and affect exaggerated female mannerisms. As in almost all things Indian, there is a religious meaning to their voluntary mutilation and subsequent behaviour. During Rama-festivals hijras may masquerade as sakhis in order to collect more money.
|
Foreigner Sadhus
Every foreigner in India, no matter how long he stays and how completely he 'Indianizes', will always remain an alien.
Yet foreigners can become sadhus too, and the locals consider them just as holy as Indian sadhus. Especially the simple rustics (75% of the total population still lives in the countryside) treat them with great respect and ask for their blessing. The city-dwellers, the modern, Westernized Indians often show less understanding.
Though many nationalities are represented, and both male and female, most of these foreigners are Italian or French.
Some foreign sadhus are 'part-timers', who time and again plunge into the adventure of sadhu-life but keep their ties to the home-front.thers burn all their bridges, as it should be done, and totally commit themselves to the realization of the sadhu ideals.
Ever since the 'sixties', with an upsurge of interest in the 'mystic East' mirroring a growing discontent with the 'materialistic West', scores of young Westerners went to India searching for the meaning of life and often finding a guru.
Many became disciples of famous, international gurus such as Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, Bhagwan Rajneesh, and Saï Baba, but others chose the more individualistic path of the sadhu and committed themselves to the hardships of the ascetic life.
So today there are at least a few hundred foreign sadhus, male and female, some of whom have been sadhu for over twenty years, and it seems that their number is still increasing. They are formally initiated into various sects, receive their sadhu name, and in appearance and behaviour conform to the sadhu life-style.
Pious Hindus, especially those in rural areas, treat these foreign holy men and women with the same respect as they would Indian sadhus.
Though most nationalities seem to be represented -- notably American, German and Japanese -- it is quite remarkable that most of these foreigners are of Italian or French extraction.
Some foreign sadhus are 'part-timers', who time and again plunge into the adventure of sadhu-life but keep their ties to the home-front. Others burn all their bridges, as it should be done, and totally commit themselves to the realization of the sadhu ideals.
|
|
|
|
|
Charan Das, originally an American lived as a sadhu in India for over twenty years. Cheerful and without cares, he roamed the country for part of the year, going from one holy place to the other, visiting with brother-sadhus. He died a few years ago |
Parvat Giri, an Italian sadhu who is a chela of Dipak Giri (right) and who has been a khareshwari 'standing sadhu' -- for over two years. He is the first foreign sadhu ever to practise such a serious tapasya. |
Dipak Giri, a longtime baba of Italian descent, who is a Mahant in the Avahana Akhara. He also has an ashram in Italy, on a mountain in the middle of a national park. |
If you'd like to ask Mahant Dipak Giri questions about the past, present and future of the Avahana Akhara, and especially its militancy, send him an email.
He is not so much interested in giving information on yoga, fakirism, or esoteric aspects of Hinduism as he thinks there are enough possibilities to get the information from other sources.
An American Sadhu: Rama-priya Das, a true story, all facts.
|
|
Rama-priya Das, an American who has been a sadhu for four years and has even attained the rank of Mahant, poses in a yoga posture. His body and hair are covered with ashes from holy sadhu-fires. A bead (made of sacred tulsi wood) hangs on a thread around his neck and over his left shoulder he wears a string which may only be worn by 'twice-born', high-caste Hindus and sadhus of this sect.
|
Standing in the cool shade of a tree, I watched the crowds pass by. Undeterred by the blistering sun, thousands of pilgrims shuffled, many of them barefooted, over the hot and dusty asphalt road. Mainly villagers and peasants, travelling in large clans or families, they were dressed in clothes typical of their region, the men in once-white cotton and the women in colourful sarees.
They came from many different parts of India to attend the Kumbha Mela in Ujjain (this was in 1992) where millions of Hindus would gather. In a few days from now, when the planets would be in the right position, they'd take a bath in the sacred river. This holy dip, forming the culmination of their pilgrimage, would cleanse them of age-old sins. Some might even hope to attain a vision of the divine, for at this sacred place the gods almost touch the earth.
Surely all would see, even meet and touch, the earthly representatives of the gods, the holy men. For the sadhus are at the heart of this congregation. Like the pilgrims, they had come from all over India, where they usually live in remote places. The pilgrims would visit them in their camps and bow low to the ground, reverentially addressing these semi-divine human beings as baba, 'old wise man'.
Among the pilgrims I noticed a few sadhus, clearly distinguished from the common people by the way they dressed and looked. Two sadhus had extremely long hair which they wore in a bundle on top of their head. Both carried a brass water-pot in their right hand and on their forehead they had painted a striking symbol. It looked like a white 'tuning-fork' with a red line in the middle. By this sign I recognized them as devotees of Rama, the divine king and legendary hero of the epic Ramayana.
Another baba, with long hair and a brass pot as well, who wore nothing but a bright red loincloth, had a totally different symbol on his forehead: three horizontal stripes painted with grey ash. This marked him as a follower of Shiva, who is generally regarded as the 'god of destruction', but who to sadhus is first of all the Master of Yogis. For basically that's what sadhus are, yogis. And monks and ascetics, mystics and even 'magicians' (if you believe in magic).
As a devotee of Shiva, this sadhu looked a bit out of place here, since this area of the festival grounds (which covered over fifteen square kilometres) was reserved for followers of Rama. Some camped out in the open, next to their smouldering fires, but most had settled in canvas tents on both sides of the road. It was in fact a virtual city of tents, stretching out over the undulating dusty plain of parched grass, between sparse trees and shrubs.
Suddenly I noticed a rather peculiar holy man crossing the road. On his forehead was the mark of Rama and he was almost naked, except for a rope around his waist to which a tiny piece of cloth was attached covering his genitals. This was nothing unusual, nor the fact that he had rubbed grey ashes all over his body, hair and beard. But through the ashes I could discern his skin, and a very light skin it was. Of course, the man could belong to one of the northern tribes of India, some of whom have very light complexion, but when he returned from filling his brass water-pot at a public tap across the road, I saw his eyes. Bright blue eyes. A white man? A foreigner baba?
He had disappeared between the tents and I decided to follow him, to check it out. Smaller, V-shaped tents were rather haphazardly clustered around a large square cubic tent where the leader of this subsect resided. This dignitary - tall, big, white-haired, in a long white robe - was standing in front of his tent as a young sadhu approached him. A disciple, I assumed, who bent down low and touched the feet of his guru. The master raised his right hand in a gesture of blessing, affectionately.
|
|
Construction of the camp was still in progress. Young sadhus were levelling the ground, hammering tent poles into the hard earth, stretching canvas over the poles, joking and laughing. I greeted them by folding my hands and calling out, "Jay Shri Rama" ('Hail Lord Rama'). And all within hearing range would echo this mantra. "You go there," one of the sadhus said and pointed to a tent a bit away from the cluster, under a solitary tree, sparsely leafed and throwing a faint shadow. |
Behind the tent the dry open plain stretched out in the shimmering distance, under the white light of the midday sun, and a hot, fragrant wind blew little dust devils around the bushes.
As I came closer I saw an older sadhu sitting cross-legged on a bed in the shade, half naked, with long grey hair and beard. On some plaited mats on the ground, with his back towards me, sat a younger sadhu. The older man saw me and he shouted, "Jay Shri Rama!" while beckoning me to come closer. I heard the old man say, "Here's a friend." The younger sadhu turned around and, indeed, he was the one I was looking for - and he was white.
They both smiled at me as I saluted them with "Jay Shri Rama" and a mat was drawn into the shade for me to sit on. The older sadhu leaned over to me, his big belly touching his crossed legs, and asked, "Where you from?"
"Holland," I said and, since many Indians have never heard of it, I added, "Europe."
"Ah, good country," he said and immediately went on, "so you come to India to find guru?" It was a statement, not a question.
"You must have guru," he continued, "life with no guru is like travelling in train with no ticket!" We laughed. "If ticket-collector come ..." I would never know what would happen then, for apart from his broken English, he had no teeth, which made him slur his words. But we laughed anyway and I didn't want to spoil the fun by some sort of interrogation.
"Guru mind is like elephant," he then said and looked at me with penetrating eyes. I was still puzzled by this metaphor (did he mean strong like an elephant?, or agile like an elephant's trunk, its 'fifth hand' as it is known in India?, or what?), while he made a more contemporary comparison, "Guru is direct telephone with God! You go your own country and think of guru and he makes connection. Guru always know what you do!"
I glanced at the white baba, and wondered if he believed all this and how he would feel being watched all the time. As a good disciple he had been sitting straight up in the lotus-posture, smiling in approval of his master's words. He was well built and very slim, as a sadhu should be. From close-up the ashes couldn't really conceal the whiteness of his skin or the blondness of his long hair and beard. His wrinkled face made him look older than he probably was.
He caught my glance - his blue eyes shining with enthusiasm, eyelids wrinkled in smiles - and took the opportunity to break into the conversation. "That's right, man," he said, "guru-ji has some kind of superconsciousness, you know, tremendous mind power!" He spoke in a rather shrill voice, but guru-ji, 'revered teacher', was pronounced softly, with much affection.
He went on, telling me how he had met his guru. It was seven years ago, while he was aimlessly drifting through India. At a religious festival he was wandering through the sadhu camps and had sort of bumped into him. Just by chance it seemed, but actually it was his karma, his 'fate'. Of course. Soon he was initiated and guru-ji had given him his sadhu-name, Ramapriya Das, which means 'Rama's beloved servant'.
The guru commented, "Ramapriya Das is now seven year old boy!" We laughed, but Ramapriya Das was not to be interrupted. Initiation is a rebirth, the start of a new life, a divine life. He had changed enormously since that time, a real metamorphosis, but there was still so much to learn. His words came out so rapidly and so heavily accented - Mid Western American - that his guru soon lost track and hardly got a chance to do his bit.
He regularly had to go back to California. There he lived in a camper in the mountains, where he tried to keep up his sadhu-life. Of course, this caused problems with the authorities who treated him as just another homeless bum. Well, what else could you expect from this government, this conspiracy of big business, the mafia and the CIA. The American population was totally disillusioned, the rich got richer and the poorest, over twenty percent of the people, lived in the streets. This was a deliberate policy, a strategy to keep the dissidents down. "In the West," he said with a sarcastic grin, "it is the survival of the meanest." He went on and on, about pollution, crime, racism, trying to convince me.
I had heard it all before, so to bring us back to the here and now, I said, "tell me more about your guru."
"Guru-ji's name is Lakshman Das," he said, looking up at the older sadhu with affection.
Lakshman Das - whose name would translate as 'servant of Lakshman', who is Rama's half-brother - came to attention when he heard his name and beamed a happy, toothless cherubic smile.
"You smoke?" he asked me, meaning hash or weed.
"Yes."
"Good." He rummaged in his sadhu-bag and came up with a plastic bag filled with green marihuana.
"Patti," I joked in Hindi with ridiculing emphasis. 'Patti' means 'leaves' and is slang for low quality stuff. "Let me give you some good charas."
I gave him a piece of black Manali hash - that another sadhu had given to me - and a cigarette, and he started preparing the chilam, a clay hand-held pipe.
"I stopped smoking," Ramapriya Das said, "it gave me ulcers all over my body." He pointed to some scars on arms and legs, barely discernible through the ash.
"And I don't need it anymore," he continued. Now he practised yoga, and more importantly, japa. 'Japa' is the endless repetition of a mantra, which in his case was the name of Rama. He showed me his mala, a 'rosary' of small wooden beads (made of the sacred tulsi plant). He did a thousand malas a day now, but he wanted to increase this number, until he would do it continuously, in the back of his mind, for twenty-four hours per day.
"Discipline is important," he said. Then he laughed heartily, "my father should see me now!" His father had been an officer in the US army. A fascist bastard who tyrannized his family with military discipline. Everyone was scared of him. As a child, Ramapriya Das had hated his father, rebelled against all he stood for. There were endless arguments, there were fights. One day he ran away from home and he had never seen him since.
But now he had his guru, who was more than a father to him. Naturally, they had their differences, their quarrels, but ultimately it was based on love. He looked up to his guru.
"Hey, guru-ji!" he shouted cheerfully, "we fight a lot, he?"
With mock-seriousness Lakshman Das looked at me and commented, "this boy always think he know better, he must have some beatings." He pretended to hit Ramapriya Das on the head who in defence held up his arms. Both were laughing out loud and their sham fight ended by Lakshman Das affectionately putting an arm around Ramapriya Das and kind of hugging him. All this display of affection overwhelmed me a bit. Was it genuine or were they trying to prove something?
We were joined by a sadhu from their camp. He had wandered by while Lakshman Das was heating and crumbling the hash and mixing it with the tobacco. Now he held a match to the chilam while Lakshman Das sucked on it through his cupped hands and drew out large clouds of smoke. The chilam was passed around - and Ramapriya Das talked on.
It was fantastic to belong to the brotherhood of sadhus now, to have renounced the world. All those people who wasted their lives chasing after cheap material pleasures, all that greed, all that technology, all that corruption and stress - it was a disaster that could only end in a total catastrophe. As a sadhu he went in the opposite direction, to an increasingly simple life in harmony with nature, like in the stone age. He was going back to the roots, back in time, and finally, back to the womb, to the source of life. "Of course, sadhus aren't perfect but at least they are doing something about it."
Meanwhile, we had finished smoking the chilam. The other sadhu had gone and Lakshman Das stretched out on his bed. "Good charas," he mumbled and closed his eyes.
"Speaking about the womb," I said, "what about sex?" And I meant renunciation of sexuality, which is a fundamental feature of sadhu life. As, in fact, celibacy is a characteristic of most mystic doctrines, East or West. Lust, sexual energy, must be converted into spiritual power, while love must be focussed exclusively on one's god.
Repression of sexuality, however, makes it shameful to discuss. It's a topic usually avoided in prudish India, and with sadhus as well, though they ought to be 'above' or 'beyond' sexuality. But Ramapriya Das had no such inhibitions. We, as sexually liberated Westerners - he perhaps even 'postsexual' - could talk about it in a straightforward manner.
"Control was difficult," he said, "especially at first. Sex was an obsession. I was addicted to sex. That's why I wear this arbandh." He pointed at the tight rope around his waist and the even tighter piece of cloth over his genitals, as it is worn by most members of his sect. "This makes it easier to control. 'Arbandh' means 'below closed', physically as well as mentally."
"Do you never dream about it?"
"Not anymore, very occasionally, but to prevent it I wear this arbandh during my sleep as well. It wakes me up when I get an erection and then I'll do some yoga exercises, you know, and japa. I also wear it when I go to the States, under my normal clothes"
He'd made some mistakes, while he was back in the States. He had to go back there regularly, to make money and because of visa regulations, and once he'd had an affair lasting several months. But that was many years ago now. If he could stay in India forever, continuously, things would be much easier, for here one wasn't bombarded with sex all the time, like in the West.
I remarked that his watch - a plastic green and rose Swatch - was identical to that of his guru.
"I gave it to him, I give him everything I have." When he came back from the States this time he had brought a blender, for guru-ji had recently and suddenly lost all his teeth, so now he could cut, grind and mix all kinds of healthy things. He had done lots of repairs to their ashram, installed an electric water-pump and a tank. It had cost him a few thousand dollars. Around the ashram he wanted to plant a forest as part of an international development plan for reforestation. "It's all an investment, you see, for it is my ashram too. I will inherit it, when guru-ji gives up the body."
"You'll inherit the ashram?" I was a bit sceptical.
"Yes. Guru-ji has made me a Mahant and he's appointed me as his successor."
I was really surprised. I had met foreign sadhus before, but never one with the rank of Mahant. It implies a certain recognition by one's fellow sadhus, a definite function in the hierarchy, and moreover, it confers lots of status. Well, there had been some opposition in the Council of Mahants against elevating a foreigner to this position, but his guru had cited ancient scriptures which had made it clear that sadhu sects must be fully accessible to non-Indians.
When I heard that Mahants have to make financial contributions to the sect, I wondered a bit cynically if Ramapriya Das's generosity towards his guru might have influenced the positive outcome. It also appeared that Ramapriya Das had to contribute to the sect's expenditures for this camp, and that he had rented this tent here, the folding bed for guru-ji, the mats, the stove, some utensils, etc. A very costly undertaking, such a festival.
Seen positively, however, his generosity showed of course his total involvement, his unconditional surrender to the guru and the brotherhood. And he got something in return, a kind of refuge in the 'tribe' and a father-son relationship with his guru, his 'dispeller of darkness'. And what is more, he got respect. Like all sadhus, he was treated with the utmost deference, especially by the peasants and the villagers (still the large majority in India). They bowed down into the dust for him, touched his feet, brought him food and drink, and asked for his blessing. Only the townspeople, the modern Indians, infected with the Western virus of consumerism, were often less sympathetic. From afar we heard someone shouting.
Ramapriya Das put on his spectacles (darkened prescription-glasses), looked over to the cluster of tents and said, "Lunch is ready." He woke up his guru by softly shaking his leg. Out of his brightly coloured backpack he got a large plastic bag filled with medicines and vitamins. While he was making a cocktail of at least five different drugs he explained to me what they were good for - his ulcers, his constipation, his liver, his energy.
Lakshman Das, laying on his side on the bed, commented, "Ramapriya Das very unhealthy boy."
|
|
A day or so later I went to see them again. Ramapriya Das was happy to see me and he showed me his improvements of the site. He had dug a shallow fireplace in front of the tent, and around it he had smoothed the ground and plastered it with cow-dung. On the other side of the tree, where it casts its shadow in the morning, he had arranged another sitting area. There his guru was, reposing on his bed. We joined him, and sat down on the mats, at his feet. "You must have guru," Lakshman Das said straightaway. "Give me your right hand." |
Around my wrist he fastened a bracelet of plaited red and white threads and one wooden bead (the sacred tulsi wood), a cheap trinket no doubt, but rich in symbolism.
"Your name is now Mangal Das," he proclaimed.
To hide my astonishment over this rapid and unasked-for ordination, I enquired after the meaning of Mangal. Mangal Nath - this I knew already - was the name of a temple nearby. And, well, today happened to be mangal-day, Tuesday. Mangal is another name for Hanuman, the monkey-god and most devoted servant of Rama. And it's the name for Mars.
"It's a nice name," Ramapriya Das said smiling, "it also means 'pretty face' or something."
I had to agree (flattered?) that it was a beautiful name, but inwardly I was holding off these attempts to turn me into a disciple. None of the hundreds of sadhus I had met before had ever tried to do so, let alone so blatantly. It wasn't just that, being a sceptic, I couldn't belong to any sect. I also knew that a disciple has to fulfil too many obligations and duties; some are virtual slaves.
But in this case that didn't really apply, for I realized that the initiation wasn't complete. He had not given me a mantra, had not whispered that sacred sound into my ear - and for my ears only - had not effected that transfusion of mind which is the essence of the whole affair. So, as long as it didn't interfere with my freedom, why not go along with it, see where it would lead? And I liked the little bracelet - it looked bright - and my new name - it sounded sweet and strong.
"Mangal Das," guru-ji spoke, "if you have problems you think of me. I see you, then I help."
Out of his bag he produced a piece of black hash the size of a tennis-ball and started to prepare a chilam. I had to light it, and we smoked, the chilam going back and forth between us.
A bunch of pilgrims, simple peasants dressed in once-white garments and bright yellow turbans, came squatting at the edge of our territory. Timidly they murmured their greetings and just sat there, watching the two holy men and the foreigner. Ramapriya Das held out a handful of grapes and one by one they came forward, bowed low, stretched out both hands and received a few grapes - as prasad. 'Divine food', made sacred by the touch of a holy man, it transfers spiritual energy to the believer. The pilgrims went back to their spot and reverentially ate the grapes.
Guru-ji, laying on his bed, had closed his eyes, so his disciples could relax too. Reclining on the mats, we ate the rest of the grapes, and I had a chance to survey the scenery. Right in front of us was a shallow dry ditch with some shrubs, and behind it the rolling terrain stretched out in all directions. Far away a city-bus moved across the land followed by a huge cloud of dust. Birds were chirping in the bushes and tiny fruits fell from the tree overhead, its leaves rustling in the warm breeze.
"It's nice and quiet here," I commented.
"Yeah, man, this is the life!" Ramapriya Das called out, making a sweeping motion with his arm, encompassing the entire vista, "free, no worries, no stress!"
(As long as you have money, I thought.)
Of course, he continued, things would get worse in India too, with increasing materialism and consumerism, as was inevitable, but for the time being there were still plenty of good places. Their ashram near Mount Abu was also in a beautiful location, and usually he stayed there all the time when he was in India. He didn't go anywhere else, wanting to stay near his guru. He owed him everything, his total transformation as a human being, with only one goal now, liberation and enlightenment. Naturally, he wasn't there yet, not by a large measure - the road is long and difficult - but he was making progress.
One year ago he had undergone the ash-initiation, and ever since he rubbed his body twice a day with ashes from the holy fire. Next year he'd start with the 'penance of the five fires', doing meditation and japa, surrounded by five smoldering fires, under the hot summer sun. But he wasn't ready yet; now it would kill him. And he had lots of plans for the ashram. He wanted to build an annex for guests, start an international school of yoga, plant a forest, grow his own vegetables, rear some animals, like elephants.
"Elephants?"
"Yeah, man, don't you think it'd be great to have your own elephant?" he dreamed on. "Tomorrow guru-ji and I will be riding on an elephant. There is a procession from the town to our camp. Won't you come and make some photos of us, Mangal Das-ji?"
The following morning, after some asking around in the overcrowded, hot, filthy and noisy town, I found the place where the procession would start, an ancient pilgrim's lodginghouse near the railway-station. The area was cordoned off by police-constables armed with long sticks, who leisurely restrained the hundreds of people waiting for the holy men to come out. With my camera held high at the ready as evidence of my special status as photographer, I pushed through the crowd. The police made an opening for me - the 'international press' - and I went through the gate into the outer courtyard.
Three elephants, their grey skin adorned with intricate colourful patterns, were standing there impassively, each with its own mahout. I had seen them before in another sadhu-parade, so obviously they were for hire.
Some hundred sadhus poured out of the building, rushed across the courtyard out of the gate and with much shouting and shoving started to line up in disorderly rows. They were followed by more solemn dignitaries, all with elaborate facial painting and some with extremely long hair in a topknot shaped like a flat hat. Among them I discerned Lakshman Das and Ramapriya Das.
They went over to one of the elephants, who was made to kneel, and with some effort they climbed on its back and took their seat on the square dais. The elephant got up with a jerk, tilting the dais and almost throwing them off. But they clung to the railing and the giant animal lumbered out of the courtyard. Ramapriya Das waved at me triumphantly from up high. He had his glasses on, but took them off - and made a gesture of blessing - when he saw me pointing the camera at him.
After some initial confusion the cavalcade took off, headed by a ragtag marching band playing popular devotional songs. The barefooted sadhus walked over the hot tar road, hardly cooled by the water freshly sprayed by the local fire-brigade's tank-truck a hundred metres in front. The holy men looked wild and unruly with their long matted hair and flowing beards. Quite a few were almost naked, except for their tiny arbandhs, but some were more sedately dressed in pieces of white cloth. Orange flags and banners with the insignia of their sect, and staffs and spears were carried aloft. The Mahants on their elephants looked like kings in an oriental fairytale making their triumphal entry into town. All wore garlands of yellow flowers, and flower-petals were rained down on them by the devoted populace standing on roofs and balconies. In their turn the sadhus threw back flowers and sweets - as prasad, food from the gods - which were eagerly grabbed by the public. Ramapriya Das was visibly enjoying the adulation of the crowd and from time to time he would lift his right hand and bless the populace. I wondered how much he'd had to pay for it.
On one of my next visits I found guru-ji by himself, stretched out on his bed, half in the tent. I sat down in the shade of the tree. "Ramapriya Das is taking bath," he said, and after a long pause, "he is good chela, he care for me."
Was he insinuating that I wasn't a good chela, a good 'disciple'? Our relationship had cooled a lot. My doubts about him had grown. At previous meetings, whenever we were alone, he had asked me for hash. When I said that I didn't have any, he would complain about the costs of this festival, implying no doubt that I - his chela - should give a contribution. I pretended not to understand. I knew that Ramapriya Das payed for everything (he was almost broke now), and besides, a 'real' sadhu doesn't have to ask for it. It comes to him 'naturally', or he does without.
But most devastating had been a cheap trick he once tried to play on me. When Ramapriya Das was away on an errand or so, I saw Lakshman Das rummaging in his bag, furtively glancing at me, surreptitiously arranging things there. Then he gave me an aluminum coin and told me to close my hand tightly around it. I knew what was going to happen, an Indian astrologer had tried to fool me like this before. He'd said that if I spoke a mantra (he'd just given me) over my closed fist, the coin would 'by the power of the mantra' produce ashes (which, of course, would be 'sacred'). And indeed, the coin became hot and when I opened my hand, there was some blue-grey ash. I didn't know how he did it, but this 'miracle' was obviously the result of oxidation.
So I told guru-ji, "I know this trick." He laughed, a bit embarrassed. Wanting to cover up his attempted deception, he explained how it worked. A substance he called 'white stone', when mixed with water and rubbed on the coin, would oxidize the aluminum. Then he elaborated on the many other wonderful, medicinal, properties of this 'white stone'. I had hidden my disappointment, my contempt. Later I'd spoken with Ramapriya Das about it, who justified it as an innocent prank. "He's such a child," he'd said, "he just likes to play."
I still wore my 'initiation'-bracelet, but, symbolically, the white threads had become soiled and the sacred bead had fallen off unnoticed.
"Hey Mangal Das, you bring me some good charas?"
"No guru-ji, there was nothing available." I lied, for I hadn't really tried to get some, and I looked away from him.
The view over the terrain was now partly obstructed by a brightly coloured patchwork screen, two metres high and running for tens of metres along the dry gully. Behind this cotton fence were the latrines, used by hundreds of pilgrims and sadhus on a daily basis. So much for the nice scenery. But then, this is India, where picturesque sites often turn out to be the communal shitting grounds.
In the distance Ramapriya Das was approaching, his brass water-pot in his right hand, naked except for his arbandh, his white skin unprotected by the ashes. He greeted me, as usual, enthusiastically, "Jay Shri Rama! Mangal Das-ji!" A tattoo on his right upper arm was now plainly visible, an indelible reminder of his former life. He scooped dark ashes out of a plastic bag, mixed them with water from his brass pot, and rubbed himself from top to toe. As usual he didn't stop talking. He didn't know if he would stay long enough to participate in the 'Emperor's Bath', the climax of the whole festival, when all sadhus would march to the sacred river and take their holy dip. "All this damn DDT here makes me sick," he shouted, making a sweeping motion with his arm. "The birds are falling dead from the trees."
Indeed, overzealous authorities fearing for epidemics caused by this gathering of millions of pilgrims, were sprinkling white powder in thick lines along roads and paths. It mixed with the dry dust, was stirred up by the wind and blown all over the place. Disinfectants were put in the water supply, and at night a jeep with a giant fan would traverse the streets, spewing out large clouds of repulsive gases, fumigating the town. In the camps, every few days, men with copper tanks on their backs would come along and squirt foul smelling liquids on the tents.
"DDT was banned in the West a long time ago, and now they're dumping it in the Third World," Ramapriya Das called out. "It's a plot to poison the sadhus and those crazy Indians don't want to listen to me. They even call it 'medicine'!"
Guru-ji, having lost interest in this conversation, was just about to close his eyes for a nap, when a group of young travellers arrived. Foreigners, three boys and three girls. Lakshman Das almost jumped up, his eyes shining, and called out, "Jay Shri Rama! Sit down, sit down!" Ramapriya Das zealously pulled some mats over to the sitting area and called out to their 'attendant' (an older pilgrim who had volunteered to serve guru-ji for the rest of the festival, thus gaining religious merit) to bring tea.
The foreigners were some sort of neo-hippies. The boys had long hair, and all wore a colourful mix of Western and Indian clothes, necklaces, bracelets and rings. They were European, except one, who came from Brazil. In the train, on their way to this festival, they had met a sadhu who had told them about Lakshman Das and who had written his name and approximate location on a piece of paper. Lakshman Das was highly pleased with this demonstration of his fame and wanted to know who this sadhu was and what else he'd told about him. Alas, they had forgotten his name, but he'd spoken of foreign disciples or something.
Almost immediately one of the boys got an enormous chilam and a chunk of hash out of his bag, and soon the chilam was going round.
"Do you smoke?" one of the girls asked, hesitantly offering the chilam to me.
Lakshman Das lost no time in expounding his wisdom, "Guru is direct telephone with God!"
The young travellers looked at him in surprise. They didn't seem to understand, so Ramapriya Das explained. Rapid and shrill, as usual, he showered them with his flood of words. About how fantastic Lakshman Das was and how fantastic it was to be a sadhu. About the terrible conditions in the West, and so on. He invited them to stay in their camp so they could be close to guru-ji.
"Life with no guru is like travelling in train with no ticket," guru-ji interjected, and they laughed. A bit later he proclaimed, "guru mind is like elephant." And then - that was really quick - he began to give them new names. "Your name is now This-and-that Das, and your name is So-and-so Das, and your name, let me think, ..."
I watched it from the sidelines. The new 'disciples' apparently found it all very amusing, weren't really impressed, were just playing along. So I saw no need to tell them about my experiences with Lakshman Das - supposing they would listen to me - or tell them about other, 'better' gurus - assuming they were looking for one. Besides, I still had some sympathy for guru-ji - a holy man after all is human too - and I didn't begrudge him his new disciples, and the hash. And finally, as is well known in India, one gets the guru one deserves. When I came back to my hotel that night, I cut the bracelet from my wrist. It was worn and dirty, not gay anymore.
Epilogue
At the Hardwar Kumbha Mela in 1998 I met Lakshman Das again.
At a Kumbha it's not always easy to find one's friends and acquaintances, and after a lot of enquiries I had just found Sukhdev Das, a kathiya baba (one who permanently wears a wooden "chastity belt"), whom I had met before in Ujjain, and who I greatly appreciated.
We were very happy to meet again, and exchanged some news about mutual friends - sadhus and civilians. After a while he started talking about reincarnation in which he firmly believes. If there has been no sex, no longing even for sex, then one is reborn again as a bairagi (a Ramanandi renouncer); sometimes in between bairagi births as a householder, but then in Brindavan, the holy city of Krishna. And if those householders perform the right kind of bhakti (devotional worship), they'll certainly be reborn as baraigis. The bairagis stand at the top; the sannyasins (Shaiva renouncers) are "animals."
Tea was served by one of his foreign chelas (disciples), Jagannath Das, an American. There were also an uninitiated Italian and an uninitiated Israeli. And the chilam, filled with good hash, made its rounds. A new visitor arrived, an older Ramandi with grey beard and greying jata. He was heartily welcomed by Sukhdev Das and invited to sit next to him on the wooden platform or bed. It was Lakshman Das!
When he looked at me, I said with glad surprise, "Lakshman Das ji!" And he said, "your name is Dolf." (Would he still remember me as Mangal Das?)
I enquired after Ramapriya Das and it appeared that he wasn't here.
Together with Lakshman Das, an older woman, in a loose red dress, had entered and sat next to me. She wore her bleached jata in a ponytail, and she had a distinct moustache, blond hairs, that extended in two lines to her chin. To Indians she must appear as a holy woman, although after talking to her I found she had no such pretensions. Her name was Nancy but Sukhdev Das, in whose camp she was staying, lovingly called her Kali-ma, "my Kali-ma."
Yesterday, she told me, she'd had an amazing experience with Lakshman Das. A miracle! He'd given her a 10-paisa coin, which he had first wetted, and which she had to hold in her hand. Then she had to repeat mantras over it, concentrating on her hand, and the coin had become almost unbearably hot, had dissolved into ash, had almost burned a hole in her hand, but there was no scar. Lakshman Das had said that she "possessed great Kali-power!" She was very happy about the experience, about her Kali-power. I hesitated. Should I take away that happiness? Erase the darkness of superstition (but comforting belief) with the cold light of reason?
But then I told her. How Lakshman Das had tried the same trick on me. And I explained the mechanics: the chemical that together with the water causes the aluminum coin to oxidize rapidly; the heat caused by the oxidation; the grey-white aliminum-oxide powder. At first she refused to believe me, because yesterday she had told the story to Sukhdev Das, and he had supported the "Kali-power" explanation. So I told her again, ending with, "why would I lie to you? Let's confront them with the facts."
We had been talking in low voices, but Lakshman Das and Sukhdev Das seated on their platform on the other side of the dhuni had no doubt realised what we were talking about, and Lakshman Das, knowing he was being exposed as a cheat and a liar, was giving me dirty looks.
Kali-ma, a bit indignant, then asked Lakshman Das, "Well, how about it, did you put something on that coin?"
He still tried to deny it, but then I said to him that he himself had told me in Ujjain what kind of substance he had rubbed on the coin. But he said that he couldn't remember what he had told me. A pretty lame excuse. Sukhdev Das tried to support him by remarking that the actual facts didn't matter so much, but that we should realize how much "joy" the event had caused her.
But Kali-ma and I, almost simultaneously and in unison, said, "we're here to find the truth!"
And then Lakshman Das gave in, a bit anyway, and said it was "magic" and in a still softer voice, "a trick."
It diminished him, and by implication Sukhdev Das too. We smoked a chilam. Kali-ma took a long deep draught. The babas now talked about Lakshman Das' teeth, or rather the lack of them. His dentures (once given to him by Rampriya Das) were broken and he badly needed new ones. "Two thousand rupees," he said to Kali-ma. Hoping perhaps she would give him the money?
It appeared his dentures were broken during a "robbery" of his ashram in Abu. He had been beaten up, the ashram had been demolished, even the tops of the trees in the garden had been cut off. And, of course, he had no money for repairs.
"What about Rampriya Das?" I asked, "wasn't he there to help you?"
"No, he has not come for three years," he answered, "not since the ardha-kumbh [half-kumbh] in Allahabad. Even now he did not come. And he took diksha [initiation] here in Hardwar twelve years ago." That was indeed remarkable; to miss such an important 'anniversary' could only mean that Rampriya Das had broken with his guru. "But he is free," Lakshman Das continued, "many problems, but I am happy." It's your 'bad karma' I thought, because of your tricks with the coins. At the Allahabad Kumbha Mela in 2001 I met Lakshman Das again.
We smoked a few chilams together. He had no chelas and Rampriya Das has never come back.
Rumour has it that he is living in California, with a girlfriend.
A Japanese sadhu: Mohan Das
Holy Smoke: True story
|
|
It is mainly to see Mathura Das again that I've just covered over a thousand kilometres to arrive at Omkareshwar. This is a small island in the Narmada river which, seen from the air, resembles the Sanskrit letters for "OM", the sacred mantra. The Narmada is holy too, so there are reasons enough for the sacredness of this place. Hindu pilgrims take a bath in the Narmada for the cleansing of body and soul. And over a path that follows the contours of the island they circumambulate this magical 'power-spot', tracing the "OM" mantra with their feet - worshipping the divine and simultaneously absorbing spiritual energy. In passing, they also visit the sadhus, 'behold' them, make offerings and receive their blessings.
|
|
|
Mohan Das being blessed by his guru of two years, Mathura Das. According to ancient tradition, the pupil must carry out all his teacher's chores, and Mohan Das acts almost as the slave of his master. However, he does so willingly, since such work brings much positive "karma" to wipe away the sins of previous lives. |
Of all the sadhus whom I've met during previous trips through India, Mathura Das stands out most clearly in my mind. His long hair in twisted tresses - a kind of dreadlocks - falling over his shoulders. His pockmarked face that looks a bit like Jimi Hendrix's. His boyish body, lean and lanky, while he must be at least thirty-five. His deep voice, sparkling eyes and booming laughter. His jocular wisdom, and sometimes serious counsel. At first he may appear somewhat macho, but in fact he is gentle, and very generous. Everything he gets he gives away.
The sun is just up when I arrive, but I don't feel tired so I decide to check out Mathura Das right away. Especially for him I've kept some hash that I had gotten from another sadhu, a piece of black Manali of passable quality. In my hotel-room I cut it in two pieces - each sufficient for one chilam ( a hash-pipe, usually earthenware, in the shape of a bottleneck, that has to be held in two hands for smoking).
Bypassing the two, three streets of the village, I take the shortest route over a footpath through a rural area, a grassy field with some small houses here and there under big trees, to a centuries-old Shiva temple. Behind it stands a partly ruined temple-like structure that originally consisted of three rooms, but the roof of the middle one had once collapsed. In this space, surrounded by three walls and under the open sky is Mathura Das' fireplace.
And a sadhu's sacred fire, his dhuni, is his home. Mathura Das is not allowed to sleep under a roof according to the rules of his sadhu-order, but deities may. So he has turned the left room into a shrine with altar and idol of Rama.
I walk around the whitewashed building, under gigantic - and holy - trees, and go up the steps to a terrace in front of it. Nobody is to be seen, but the fire is smouldering, so he cannot be far away.
As I stand there, wondering whether I should go to the river instead, a young half-naked sadhu appears from the temple-room. His features are rather Asiatic, a very thin beard, and straight, black hair that comes down to his shoulders. Perhaps he's a Nepali or Tibetan?
I ask him in my simple Hindi, "Mathura Das where is?" He points in the direction of the river and says, "snana," Hindi for bathing. Then I ask him, "his disciple you?" He nods yes. His limited vocabulary makes me suspect that he isn't Nepali, or Tibetan either, so I ask him in English, "where are you from?" And then he has to kind of confess - he'd probably have preferred to stay in his role of a native, I think - that he's from Japan.
As a real sadhu he invites me for a tea, so we sit by the dhuni. He puts a pan with water and milk on the smouldering logs and pokes the ashes till flames shoot up. Mumbling in a mixture of broken English and sadhu-slang he asks if I have any hash on me, for he has only inferior weed. He shows me a plastic bag with very green leaves. I lie and say that I don't have any, so he starts to slowly clean the grass.
We smoke the chilam and I ask him some more typically Indian (intrusive) questions, like "what is your name," and "what is your purpose," to which he replies with shy smiles and hardly audible mumbles. But I catch his name, which is Mohan Das, and it appears that two years ago he was initiated as Mathura Das' disciple. The weed has no effect.
He is very slow in everything, perhaps deliberately, to show how stoned he is, or enlightened. Or is he just dim-witted? Finally the tea is ready and he sprinkles a few drops into the fire, an oblation to the fire-god, before filling the stainless steel beakers. He asks me for a cigarette and we smoke in silence, slurping the hot tea.
The rays of the sun peek through the rustling leaves of the giant tree forming a roof over our heads. Chirping birds flit from branch to branch. In the distance a troop of monkeys passes by, swinging through the trees, then again running through the field. In the foreground are the ancient walls and spires of the Shiva temple. A cow is calmly grazing. Time stands still. Sadhus may have little or no material comfort, but they often live in the most beautiful places, free and without a worry.
Then I hear the deep, booming voice of Mathura Das in the distance.
As he comes onto the terrace he recognizes me immediately, laughs and calls out loudly, "Sita Rama!" A greeting and invocation of the deity Rama and his divine wife Sita. I bow and touch his foot with my right hand. He puts his hand on my head, and then goes into his temple-room, singing and humming, continuously repeating the mantra, "Sita Rama, Sita Rama, Sita Rama..."
A young sadhu has come with him. He is dressed in red cloth and has a red dot painted in the middle of his forehead, distinct signs of a Shiva devotee. He sits next to me and immediately starts asking the usual questions, where I come from and so on.
But after a few minutes Mathura Das comes out of his shrine, now dressed in a light-rose silk shawl around his waist, and all attention focuses on him. In a gruff voice he calls out, "Mohan Das, make tea!"
Submissively Mohan Das goes about it, but he has become very clumsy suddenly, dropping everything.
Mathura Das takes his seat near the dhuni and asks me for a cigarette. I assume he just wants to smoke it and want to give one to Mohan Das as well, but that is not allowed. "He only smoke hash!" Mathura Das cries out. Then I give him the piece of hash too and his face lights up. Immediately he starts preparing a chilam. He heats the hash with a match and mixes it with the tobacco in a coconut cup.
"Hash problem," he says. It is hard to come by nowadays and expensive, two hundred rupees a tola (ten grams). And he needs at least a tola a day, for himself and for his guests. I wonder how he manages to obtain such a sum each day. It isn't much more than seven dollars, but nevertheless, that amounts to a week's wages for an unskilled labourer and the usual donations he receives from pilgrims are at most a few rupees per head.
These price-increases are mainly caused by foreigners who buy hash for their own use in India or for export, since they can pay any price. Besides, there are arrests in the sadhus' own supply-lines. Some sadhus are even imprisoned.
"Really?" I ask surprised. For hash may be illegal nowadays in all parts of India, but the smoking of it by sadhus is tolerated. It's an ancient tradition and they need it for their worship of Shiva. Moreover, sadhus stand a bit outside - and above - the law.
I tell them about the coffeeshops in Holland. They have heard of it before but can hardly believe it. The prices neither, for that matter.
Meanwhile, Mathura Das has prepared the chilam. With joined hands he lifts it heavenwards and calls out loud, "Sita Rama!" He inhales deeply, and blows out an enormous cloud of smoke.
The chilam goes round, and hits; our spirits rise. Mohan Das is urged to take an extra puff and Mathura Das sees to it that he inhales deeply enough.
After that Mohan Das doesn't have a moment's rest. He has to distribute the tea and Mathura Das spurs him on with ever new commands and then criticizes everything he does. Mohan Das becomes totally confused, goes on strike, stares ahead senselessly, seemingly deaf and dumb.
Laughing out loud, Mathura Das turns to me. "Cracked brain!" he sneers, twirling his index-finger next to his head, "screw loose!"
And then, with blazing eyes, he roars, "me, full sadhu life!" In his limited English, but very articulate all the same, he explains how he sees 'The Reality' beyond our everyday material world. Without eyes. Pointing at the backside of his head he says, "me inside out!" But for this knowledge he has to pay a price; he must lead a hard life, full of risks: "full sadhu-life, dangerous!" He illustrates this with shaking and quaking of arms and body, as if he is falling apart, disintegrating, and roars once more, "dangerous!"
After this illuminating performance he disappears into his shrine again.
The Shiva sadhu turns to me again and asks rather bluntly, "You also give me some hash?"
I shake my head, "That was my last piece, it's all finished."
"Money little problem," he then says, "you give me hundred rupees?"
I try to explain that I'm seeing far too many sadhus and that they all need money and that I'm not rich, but he doesn't care.
"Fifty also good," he says.
Then I tell him not to be so money-minded, "sadhus have to be poor, and that's what you wanted, isn't it?" Besides, I think, 'good' sadhus like Mathura Das don't have to ask for anything: they are just given all they need.
But he points at my bag - as if he were looking through it with x-ray glasses, seeing my expensive cameras, traveller-cheques and cash, all in all equalling some two years' wages for an average Indian labourer - and says, "you money automatic!"
This makes me laugh, but I'm fed up with his nagging, so I get up.
Mathura Das comes out of his shrine-room and tells me to smoke another chilam, but I am going.
"You come back tomorrow," he says, "OK?"
The next morning I take the shortest route to the river, a path with rough, uneven stone steps leading over a low hill. On top I stand still for a moment to have a look at the picturesque scenery. Below me, part of the village, large trees between houses and temples.
And straight ahead, the island of Omkareshwar in the blue-green Narmada river: sparsely wooded hills, a cluster of small houses around a domineering sandstone palace and a whitewashed temple near the river.
I'm thinking of the rather disappointing meeting with Mathura Das yesterday. Especially his relationship with Mohan Das had shocked me. Obedience, servitude, submissiveness and so on are expected of any disciple, but he treats Mohan Das as a slave and ridicules him for it to boot.
But on the other hand, can I fairly judge it? Perhaps he gives Mohan Das exactly what he needs. From a Hindu perspective it may be necessary for the 'burning' of his karma, his fate, determined by good and bad deeds in his previous lives. Moreover, from the same perspective, is a sadhu, a holy man who perceives a Reality unknown to us ordinary mortals, not by definition infallible?
|
|
Morning scene at the teastall, after the smoke. I walk down the hill, through winding streets, down wide stone steps to a small beach on the bank of the Narmada. From the other side, near a tea-stall, a red-dressed sadhu is waving at me. It is the Shiva sadhu whom I met yesterday, beckoning me to come closer.
|
I hesitate, but then I see Mathura Das too, sitting on the wooden table of the tea-stall, under a brown tarpaulin awning.
Mathura Das looks downcast and complains about pain in his arm. It is only with difficulty that he can bend it. He shows it to me and explains that this is caused by not having smoked any hash yet.
I had intended to keep my last piece of hash for later, but seeing his suffering (real or enacted) I give it to him anyway, and immediately his face lights up. But first he wants to take a bath in the river. A bit later, with holy water still dripping from his long hair, Mathura Das comes and sits next to me.
We smoke the chilam, drink a tea, and he is his 'old self' again, happy, expansive, full of laughter.
Before I leave Omkareshwar I want to give some money to Mathura Das. At first I had thought I could make a generous gesture with a hundred rupees, but after all those stories about the high prices of hash, that doesn't seem quite sufficient, so I have decided to give him two hundred. Surreptitiously I try to extract the banknotes from my bag, but Mathura Das notices it immediately. He points at his shrine and together we enter this dark, incense-filled room. I want to hand him the notes, but he points at a low altar where a statue of Rama is standing: it has to be an offering. I let the banknotes drift down on the altar while he loudly invokes the deity, "Sita Rama, Sita Rama!"
Kumbha Mela
A Kumbha Mela is the temporary establishment of a heavenly city, the building of a collective dream, the manifestation of the fantasy of man's god-linked existence on earth.
It is a tribal gathering of sadhus and pilgrims from all corners of India and, more recently, the world.
Prayag (Allahabad) in 1989
A 108 degree panoramic view of the mela grounds. Far away in the background, you can see the hazy contours of the fortress of Allahabad where the rivers Yamuna and Ganga (and Sarasvati) meet.
Left on the foreground, there are some temporary bridges over a branch of the Ganga, who flows from right to left. On the extreme right (you may have to scroll), you can see the highway bridge.
The whole area, from the foreground to the fortress, and from left to right and even extending several kilometers beyond the highway bridge to the right, is filled with tents.
In this enormous tent-city the sadhus, the holy men of India, are the stars of the show.
The Kumbha Mela is undoubtedly the most important gathering in the lives of sadhus. It is held in Allahabad, Ujjain, Hardwar and Nasik, in twelve year cycles, alternating in such a way that about every three years a Kumbha Mela takes place. The twelve year cycle is related to the movement of the planet Jupiter through the zodiac, and when Jupiter enters Aquarius (Kumbha), the occasion is most auspicious. However, to complicate matters, it is also connected with solar cycles, the sun entering Capricornus or Aries, so only an expert astrologer can fix the exact dates; but the final decision rests with the Naga Babas, particularly the Juna Akhara.
The choice of these four locations is based on a myth concerning a pot (kumbha) of divine ambrosia, over the possession of which a heavenly fight broke out. And out of the kumbha four drops of nectar were spilled and fell on earth, sanctifying those four places.
The Kumbha Melas attract an incredible number of people. Like a hundred thousand sadhus and tens of millions of citizens. It is an impressive demonstration of the unshakable faith of Hindus in the holy bath and the darshan of sadhus as means to wash away one's sins and purify the soul.
The Kumbha Mela lasts about a month and there are several important bathing days. The main event is the shahi snan, or 'emperor's bath', when all Akharas form processions to go to the right spot along the river, wanting to be there at around the right time, when the divine planetary influences are most auspicious, to jump into the water. In the past, fights between rival sects took place because everybody wanted to be at the same spot at the same time, but during British rule orders of precedence were fixed, a little different for every Mela so that all rival sects would be content.
And it is a good show, religious theatre. But not merely entertainment, it is meant to be a liberating experience for all. Millions of pilgrims mill through the sadhu camps, wanting to see as many Babas as possible, sitting at a dhuni for a while, making donations, receiving blessings and prasad, sharing in the spiritual, magical atmosphere. Quite a few citizens will find 'their' Guru, make the jump into the unknown and join the brotherhood of sadhus. It is the most auspicious time for making such a portentous decision.
I think (though this can never be proven) that Kumbha Melas evolved out of stone-age tribal gatherings (their timing regulated by the position of stars and constellations), that became "institutionalized", or received their present form (as a sadhu and people gathering) in the Harappan period. The latter would explain why they are only taking place in the north-western corner of India.
1,173 Two disciples staying with their guru, Siyam Balak Das, for the duration of the Kumbha Mela. They regard him not only as their teacher, but worship him as their god on earth.
A stay at a Kumbha Mela will be full of creature-discomforts, which in this context (a pilgrimage) provides the necessary austerities (no pain, no gain).
But there will be joy and inspiration, a feeling of communality, that can only be had at such gatherings.
For a believer, it may even offer divine revelation.
Taking shape over several weeks, the heavenly city is built with the cheapest of materials: bamboo poles, sackclothing, cardboard, tarpaulins, etc.
The Melas in Allahabad are the most important. Amongst sadhus this town is better known by its ancient name 'Prayag', the 'place of sacrifice'. Since time immemorial it has been a famous place of pilgrimage (tirtha), situated at the confluence of the brown Ganga and blue Yamuna rivers and the 'hidden' mythical subterranean Sarasvati: hence it is called the 'triple braid' (triveni). It is a power-spot, a 'cross-over' point between heaven and earth, and thus the focal point for the multitudes of pilgrims and Babas. This confluence, the sangam, is most holy and there one must bathe. The earth of this tirtha is so sacred that even a small portion is said to cleanse from all sin. Women sometimes offer a braid of their hair to Ganga.
…
Da tempi immemorabili, sulle rive dei fiumi sacri, si celebra il Kumbha Mela, il più importante raduno religioso del mondo.
Da tutte le parti dell'India, genti d'ogni religione, casta e setta, confluiscono nei Tirtha (luoghi sacri), per celebrare riti, discutere, condividere conoscenze. Milioni di devoti partecipano a questi raduni per immergersi nelle acque dei fiumi, che durante questo periodo, si reputano trasformate in nettare purificatore. I bagni rituali, o shahi-snan, in giorni propizi predeterminati, garantiscono grandi meriti, ed anche la liberazione dal ciclo della morte e rinascita (moksha).
Nei luoghi indicati dalla tradizione il Kumbha (vaso, giara) Mela (celebrazione, festival, pellegrinaggio), celebra la confluenza di energie cosmiche come un evento magico. Questo raduno è rinnovato periodicamente, ogni tre anni a rotazione, in ognuna delle quattro località:
* Prayag (Allahabad, Uttar Pradesh), alla confluenza dei tre fiumi Ganga, Yamuna, e Saraswati,
* Haridwar (Uttar Pradesh), dove il fiume Ganga entra nella pianura.
* Ujjain (Madhya Pradesh), sulle rive del fiume Kshipra,
* Nasik (in Maharashtra), sulle rive del fiume Godavari.
Un ciclo completo di Kumbha Mela si compie quindi ogni dodici anni, si distinguono così: Kumbha Mela: il mela tenuto ogni tre anni, a rotazione, nelle città di Prayag, Nasik, Haridwar e Ujjain.
* Poorna (completo) Kumbha Mela: tenuto ogni dodici anni.
* Maha (grande) Kumbha Mela: tenuto a Prayag ogni 144 anni. Rappresenta la conclusione di un ciclo di 12 Purna Kumba Mela.
* Ardha (metà) Kumbha: tenuto sei anni dopo il Kumbha Mela.
* Magh Mela: il mini Kumbha Mela tenuto ogni anno, tranne gli anni di Kumbha Mela e Ardha Kumbha Mela, ed è celebrato nel mese di Magh (Gen-Feb).
A Prayag e Haridwar, tra i due Poorna Kumbha Mela, ne è tenuto uno intermedio, detto Ardha Kumbha. In altre parole, Ardha Kumbha Mela è tenuto a Prayag e Haridwar negli anni in cui Purna Kumbha Mela è tenuto ad Ujjain e Nasik.
La tradizione vedica ha stabilito le località, e gli astrologi determinano, in base alle congiunzioni astrali, quando sarà celebrato il Kumbha Mela.
Kumbha Mela, i bagni rituali per la liberazione dal ciclo delle rinascite
Probabilmente per il devoto non vi è nulla di più sacro del bagno rituale, o shahi-snan, durante il Kumbha Mela, il più sacro di tutti i festival. Per l'hindu ortodosso, che dà importanza all'esecuzione dei rituali, l'immersione nelle acque sacre nel giorno propizio è una purificazione del corpo e dello spirito e garantisce la liberazione dal ciclo della morte e rinascita (moksha).
Il bagno rituale, una completa immersione nell'acqua e una libagione al sole, si svolge in pubblico sulle rive del fiume o nella corrente. Gli shahi-snan dei vari campi religiosi sono accompagnati da elaborate processioni, i leader sono trasportati su palanchini ed elefanti con gran fasto ed ostentazione. Il bagno è il rito più importante ed attraverso esso si mostra anche la supremazia di un akhara sugli altri e sulla gente comune.
La sequenza degli shahi-snan stabilisce che i primi ad immergersi siano gli Shaiva Akhara, poi i Vaishnav, quindi gli Udasin e Nilmal Akhara. La precedenza assoluta spetta ai Naga Sanyasi, gli asceti nudi che armati di tridente aprono la gran processione verso il luogo del bagno rituale.
La gente comune potrà immergersi nelle acque solamente dopo i bagni dei sadhu, rishi, e yogi.
In passato l'ordine dei bagni ha dato luogo a scontri tra le varie sette (nel 1954 vi sono stati oltre 500 morti), ma attualmente le autorità hanno fissato i tempi e la durata dei bagni rituali di ogni akhara.
Altri avvenimenti accompagnano lo svolgersi e l'alternarsi dei bagni. Discussioni, assemblee, danze e canti devozionali, dibatti dottrinali, pasti gratuiti per le migliaia di sadhu e mendicanti.
Kumbha Mela, i pellegrini, Baba, Swami, Sanyasi e Sadhu
Il Kumbha Mela, oltre ad essere il festival religioso più importante, è anche il più antico. Probabilmente celebrato nel periodo della civiltà di Harappa (5000 anni fa), è menzionato nei Veda e nel Ramayana. Il pellegrino cinese Huan Tsang, che visitò l'India nel VII secolo, riferisce di un raduno hindu a Prayag.
Nel IX secolo, il filosofo Adi Shankaracharya, nel tentativo di riforma ed integrazione della cultura hindu, riorganizzò questo festival, chiamando a raduno da tutta l'India le varie sette di sadhu (asceti), santi, e monaci. Il festival divenne così un modo per propagare la religione vedica, per appianare le controversie e creare un ambiente di reciproca comprensione tra le diverse sette e congregazioni religiose.
Ancor oggi il festival dà l'opportunità ai devoti di incontrare eremiti e saggi che normalmente vivono in isolamento nelle foreste, molti dei quali abbandonano gli eremi unicamente ogni dodici anni.
Le congregazioni religiose hindu sono tradizionalmente divise in Mathas (monasteri), ognuno sotto la guida di un capo, chiamato Shankaracharya. I matha si suddividono ulteriormente in Akhara (sette), le due principali sono:
* Shaiva Akhara - seguaci di Shiva; i Naga Sanyasi, gli asceti nudi, sono i più noti;
* Vaishnav o Bairagi Akhara - i seguaci di Vishnu.
Al festival partecipano anche le sette Sikh, raggruppate in Udasin e Nilmal Akahra.
Le varie sette durante il Kumbha Mela risiedono in diversi campi, ed i loro dibattiti e sermoni rappresentano la maggiore attrattiva dei visitatori. Gli esponenti più popolari sono venerati come divinità viventi, e sono portati in processione in palanchini sovraccarichi d'ornamenti e doni.
La presenza di migliaia di rishi, sadhu e yogi, rende particolarmente importante la partecipazione alla Kumbha Mela, milioni di persone intraprendono il pellegrinaggio per avere un'udienza (darshan) o una benedizione. Per gli adepti, vederli ed ascoltarli è un grande merito. Il pellegrino che trascorre in meditazione l'intero mese del Kumbha Mela sulla riva della Ganga compiendo i rituali prescritti, diventa Kapalvasi, ed è liberato dal ciclo di morte e rinascita (moksha).
Per oltre un mese enormi accampamenti di tende, stile militare, sono organizzati nelle aree circostanti il fiume per accogliere e sfamare i pellegrini.
I partecipanti, arrivati con diverse motivazioni e attese, tutti, dal sadhu al curioso, si bagneranno nelle acque del fiume sacro.
Kumbha Mela, le origini
Probabilmente il Kumbha Mela ha origine nei rituali di fertilità pre-vedici, quando vasi contenenti sementi venivano ritualmente immersi nelle acque dei fiumi prima della semina. Nel corso di queste cerimonie il vaso è simbolo del grembo della dea Madre. Il fiume, portatore di fertilità, è considerato un Tirtha (luogo sacro), perché funge da tramite tra cielo e terra, tra i mortali e la divinità dispensatrice di vita.
Secondo le leggende, agli inizi dei tempi, i demoni (asura) e gli dei (deva) si accordarono per sospendere i conflitti in corso ed unire le forze per recuperare un vaso (kumbha) che conteneva il nettare dell'immortalità (amrita). Il vaso giaceva in fondo all'oceano di latte, e per raggiungerlo era necessario l'intervento congiunto di tutti, asura e deva.
L'oceano fu frullato, ed alla fine emersero i quattordici Gioielli Virtuosi (Chatudasa Ratna), tra cui il vaso con l'amrita. Ben presto scoppiò la disputa per il possesso dell'elisir. Vishnu se ne appropriò con l'inganno e Garuda lo trasportò nel paradiso degli dei (Swarga). Durante il viaggio fu fermato dagli asura in quattro località (Prayag, Haridwar, Ujjain e Nasik), alcune gocce caddero al suolo, santificando per sempre quei luoghi. Il mito racconta che Garuda volò per12 giorni (12anni per l'uomo), guidato da Brihasapati (Giove), e protetto da Saturno, Sole e la Luna.
Per questo motivo il Kumbha è celebrato ogni 12 anni, e gli astrologi ne determinano la data, in base alle congiunzioni astrali. In teoria il Kumbha Mela dovrebbe tenersi nelle quattro città ogni tre anni, a rotazione. In pratica il ciclo si può completare in undici o tredici anni, a causa deicomplessi calcoli delle congiunzioni astrali. Inoltre l'intervallo tra il Kumbha Mela di Nasik e di Ujjain, non sempre è di tre anni, talvolta sono celebrati nello stesso anno.
* Haridwar - quando Giove entra in Acquario e il Sole entra in Ariete, durante il mese di Chaitra (Marzo-Aprile); 1986, 1998, 2010, 2021.
* Prayag (Allahabad) - quando Giove entra in Ariete o Toro e Sole e Luna sono in Capricorno, durante il mese di Magha (Gennaio-Febbraio); 1989, 2001, 2012, 2024.
* Nasik - quando Giove e Sole sono in Leone, nel mese di Bhadrapada (Agosto-Settembre); 1980, 1992, 2003, 2015.
* Ujjain - quando Giove è in Leone e Sole è in Ariete, o quando Giove, Sole, e Luna sono in Bilancia durante il mese di Vaisakha (Aprile-Maggio); 1980, 1992, 2004, 2016.
Ujjain in 1992
Ujjain is in May, and thus the 'hot' Kumbh. Dry as well. Good locations, though the farthest ends of the encampments are still at least 25 kms apart. But plenty of space. The Shipra is rather shallow, but extra water will be pumped in.
Apart from Mahakala Mandir (which is built around a very 'powerful' jyotir linga) there are the Bartrihari caves (important especially for Nath baba's), the Datt Akhara (one of the most important Juna Naga establishments) and a popular Hanuman Mandir: Mangalnath.
Ujjain is also associated with Bhairom (ot Bhairava), the Aghori manifestation of Shiva.
|
|
The initiation ceremonies of the Juna Akhara on the bank of the Shipra river at Ujjain during the 1992 Kumbha Mela. About three thousand new disciples took part, just for this Akhara - impressive evidence of the attraction Sadhu-life still has today.
|
|
|
2729 At initiation, these apprentice Naga Babas had their head shaven as a most visible sign of their rebirth into the brotherhood of Sadhus, in this case the Juna Akhara. |
Haridwar in 1998
|
Shiv Giri, a khareshwari of one year's standing, belonging to the Juna Akhara, with pilgrims and babas. |
Bengal Baba Ragunath Das |
Prayag (Allahabad) in 2001
This Kumbh was a really big media event.
Hundreds of journalists, filmers and photographers from all over the world attended. Whenever something spectacular (like the bathing processions) took place, they had to jostle for space and were getting into each other's way.
At almost every hour of the day, tens of media people surrounded the more 'interesting' sadhus, such as Amar Bharati (left).
In contrast with their attitude at previous melas, the sadhus didn't seem to mind it too much.
After the first bathing day, however, a ban on filming and photographing on the riverbanks was proclaimed to protect the privacy of female pilgrims having their holy bath.
(It is a bit sad to realize that all this disturbing media activity will result in very few serious publications.)
It was also the first Kumbh actively marketed (by the U.P. government as well as private travel agencies) to Indian and foreign tourists. And indeed, a thousand or so did turn up.
So now sadhus have become tourist-attractions.
One wonders how this will effect future Kumbhs, as well as the sadhus.
Since tourism always seems to turn gold into lead, however, there is no reason to expect anything positive.
Another remarkable aspect of this Kumbh was the presence of a lot more 'non-tourist' foreigners than at previous Kumbhs (all in all numbering a thousand or two):
Foreign sadhus (one, Dipak Giri [right] even with his own foreign chelas), foreign sadhu-like persons, foreign chelas of Indian sadhus, foreign followers of Indian sadhus, and foreign 'neo-hippies' with sadhu-like tendencies.
Does this herald the beginning of an international sadhu movement? Or is it only a temporary fashion?
Or does it herald the end of the sadhus "as we know (knew) them"?
(for more on foreign influences see notes.)
|
Amar Bharati, the 'one-armed' baba, was no doubt the most photographed and filmed sadhu of this Kumbha mela. |
Saraswati Giri, a Naga baba of the Juna Akhara, one of the few
sadhus nowadays, who is naked all the time (and not only at the Kumbh, as the
other Naga babas). |
4423 Dipak Giri, a longtime baba of Italian descent, who is a Mahant in the Avahana Akhara. He also has an ashram in Italy, on a mountain in the middle of a national park. (vedi sopra)
4396 Parvat Giri, an Italian sadhu who is a chela of Dipak Giri (right) and who has been a khareshwari -- i.e. 'standing sadhu' -- for over two years.
Maha Kumbha Mela, 2001
Un evento che si ripete ogni 144 anni a Prayag
La Maha (Grande) Kumbha Mela, il più importante festival religioso, è l'evento più atteso, che avviene ogni 144 anni, ed è considerato il più favorevole di tutti i Kumbha Mela. Rappresenta il culmine di un ciclo di dodici Poorna Kumbha Mela, ognuna delle quali si conclude ogni dodici anni.
Per i mistici, l'allineamento di pianeti e costellazioni produce la polarizzazione d'energie positive in una località, con straordinari effetti sul nostro pianeta. Queste energie sono ulteriormente intensificate dalla presenza di saggi e santi che si danno convegno durante questo evento cosmico.
Allahabad, o Prayag (l'antico nome), è una città santa, meta di pellegrinaggi da migliaia d'anni. Prayag è nota come Tirtharaj (il Signore dei Tirtha), qui, infatti, si ha la confluenza, Sangam, dei fiumi sacri Ganga e Yamuna, che incontrano il fiume dell'Illuminazione, la mitica Saraswati. Giorni favorevoli per i bagni rituali:
* 9 Gen. 2001 Paush Poornima. Ultima luna piena dell'inverno.
* 14 Gen. 2001 Makar Sankranti (Shahi Snan) Il sole entra nella costellazione del Capricorno. Prima grande giornata per le abluzioni.
* 24 Gen. 2001 Mauni Amavasya (Shahi Snan). "La luna nuova dei santi". Il giorno delle abluzioni dei sadhu, rishi, e delle iniziazioni.
* 29 Gen. 2001 Vasant Panchami (Shahi Snan) Inizio della primavera nel nord India.
* 8Feb. 2001 Magh Poornima Luna piena del mese di Magha.
* 21Feb. 2001 Maha Shiv Ratri La grande notte di Shiva, in cui si evoca il matrimonio del Dio con Parvati.
In queste giornate milioni di pellegrini si immergeranno nelle acque alla confluenza (Sangam) dei fiumi sacri. Il numero dei partecipanti alla Kumbha Mela ad Allahabad è costantemente cresciuto negli anni.
Anno 1954 Visitatori (milioni) 6
1966: 7
1977:10
1989: 15
2001: 30 (attesi)
La particolare congiunzione astrale richiama in questi luoghi migliaia di mistici, rishi, sadhu, e monaci.
Milioni di pellegrini allora si uniscono al raduno per poter beneficiare sia dell'evento cosmico sia della presenza di persone in odore di santità. L'evento richiama di conseguenza missionari, giocolieri, ciarlatani, mendicanti e commercianti creando un'enorme, incredibile fiera, dove tutto può accadere.
Nasik in 2003
The 'wet' Kumbh, where, it seems, "nobody" is going. Some reasons: bad locations, far apart.
Ujjain in 2004
The 'hot' Kumbh, where, it seems, "everybody" is going.
Mast' of India - Meher Baba
Avatar Meher BabaEric Solibakke - He attended the Christian High School and Deccan College. Meher Baba, as he came to be called by his disciples, took up his avataric duties early in 1922 after seven years of intense work with the five Perfect Masters of the time. Hazrat Babajan, the aged woman master of Poona, initiated his spiritual awakening in January, 1914, by kissing him on the forehead. Almost immediately he entered into a transcendental state of mind out of touch with normal gross consciousness. He scarcely ate or slept for nine months. Dazed and apparently insane, he made his way during the next year to Shirdi Sai Baba, the chief of the five Perfect Masters, who acknowledged him publically as the Sustainer of the Universe, and sent him to Upasni Maharaj. As soon as that master saw the young man approaching, he picked up a stone and threw it with great force. It struck him on the forehead exactly where the old woman had kissed him. Thus began a painful five-year process of regaining normal consciousness while retaining his divine state. During the 1920's he gathered and rigorously trained his inner circles of disciples while founding an active spiritual community in Ahmednagar, India, with schools, hospitals and other public service projects. In the middle of the decade he became silent and never again uttered a word. For 44 years he communicated by spelling words on an alphabet board and through hand gestures, including two important books, God Speaks and Discourses. In 1931 he came to the West for the first time, traveling on the same ship that took Mahatma Gandhi to the Round Table Conference in London. During that voyage, he became Gandhi's spiritual adviser. In England and America he gathered a select group of western disciples, some of whom joined him in India later on. He visited his disciples in the West a half dozen times before the Second World War. During the 1940's he traveled all over India in his work with the poor, with lepers, with the insane and with masts, a category of mentally disturbed people seldom found in the West whose afflictions come from unwise use of powerful spiritual practices, overwhelming and unbalanced love for God, or enthrallment by a sudden vision of Divinity. He set up temporary mad and mast ashrams in every part of the country where he contacted and served them in his own silent way. He established two places of pilgrimage outside of India during the 1950's, Meher Spiritual Center, in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, U.S.A., and Avatar's Abode, near Brisbane, Australia. It was necessary to spill his blood in America, he said, and while there to dedicate his center, major bones were broken and his face severely smashed in an car accident. A few years later he suffered a similar fate in India. He became well known in the West during the 1960's by opposing the use of LSD and other drugs in the quest for spiritual experiences. In the last years he largely withdrew from public life and intensified his work in seclusion, announcing in the fall of 1968 that his work was completed 100% to his satisfaction. On January 31, 1969, one month before his 76th birthday, he left his body, which now lies in the tomb near Ahmednagar, a place pilgrimage for those who love him. He said that his tomb, called his samadhi, takes the place of his physical body. For a period of 100 years, entering his samadhi is equal to coming into his physical presence. Many pilgrims take advantage of this opportunity to keep his company. After 70 years, he said, his samadhi will be the most frequented place of pilgrimage in the world.
|
 |
Meher Baba's Name
One day in 1920 Merwan Irani (then age 26) who was also called Merwan Seth by those who knew him closely, expressed his desire to his dear friend Sayyed Saheb to find a place where he could stay secluded for the work he had to do. Merwan and Sayyed discussed different possible places, and since it was work of a spiritual nature, Merwan decided upon a particular site where his Master Upasni Maharaj had stayed in a cave for nearly a year fasting, before achieving God-Realization. Merwan and Sayyed together found this same cave and days and nights passed as Merwan secluded himself in the cave with Sayyed keeping camp outside the cave, waiting for the seclusion to end. When Merwan had stayed exactly forty days and nights in seclusion there, he emerged and Sayyed expressed his sincere wish to call Merwan something besides Merwan Seth. Seth is a term used more formally for society's great personalities, yet Sayyed had become deeply impressed with Merwan's spiritual greatness. Merwan agreed that some other name could be used, but asked to call his other friends to come to their mountain side camp and discuss it further. They were able to assemble Gustaji, Behram, and others and in the end Sayyed himself offered the name Meher Baba. (See Lord Meher, pg. 290)
Meher is a Persian name. The name Merwan is derived from the same root as Meher, which is Meheraban. In Persian, Meheraban means compassion, empathy, reaching out to those in need. It has also been said to connote the light that appears in the sky just before dawn. Baba is a word which has more than one meaning, but in Persian in the context of a name it means someone so close they are like father and dearest friend. Thus, in english we say that Meher Baba means Compassionate-Father. Merwan was accepting of this name and from that day onward the name was used for and by Merwan S. Irani as a pseudo-name. However, Merwan's signature remained M.S. Irani throughout his days.
In the book Origins, which is an Etymological Dictionary showing how words have evolved, compassion points to the word patience. Patience is derived from the Latin pati: to suffer, to endure, to be patient. Patience gets further divided into eight parts the seventh of which deals with Prefix-compounds of pati such as compassionate. Compassion: to suffer with another, to feel pity. In the same book, Pity: dutiful to one's god(s) and parents.
That is history and those are facts. Meher Baba is now that name of Merwan Sheriar Irani by which most people remember him. His own sister Manijeh has lovingly called him Baba since those days. But I have been asked to write about Baba's name and to leave it on this formal note does not express my heart. What has happened historically is much more significant than just a young man's changing of his name. With no apology, I am happy to express my conviction that Meher Baba is the New Christ. His name, offered and received with love, is his gift to all those who realize that his suffering with us is the most significant aspect of his love. When a young man travelled the middle-east, west to Europe and far into India with his disciples, only later to be crucified for the work he manifested in the world, he became known historically as Jesus Christ. Yet, the son of Mary and Joseph was a jewish boy with an old hebrew name, probably sounding something like Yeshewa which we know as the modern Joshua.
But it is Jesus Christ who is remembered the world over. In the same way, when we remember the personal aspect of God, the Christ, we remember him with humanity and divinity both, and Meher Baba, the Father-friend of so many, who is eager to reach out to those in spiritual need, who feels such empathy for those who suffer because he suffers with them, when we remember him with love... what happens?
Good question. For the answer I point only inward, toward him. I have not the blood in my pen to answer love questions, but this web site tells the divine story of hearts touched by His Love.
Meher Baba Writings
Meher Baba Discourses. (c) 1971 Meher Spiritual Center, Inc., Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
The Avatar
Consciously or unconsciously, every living creature seeks one thing. In the lower forms of life and in less advanced human beings, the quest is unconscious: in advanced human beings, it is conscious. The object of the quest is called by many names -- happiness, peace, freedom, truth, love, perfection, Self-realization, God-realization, union with God. Essentially, it is a search for all of these, but in a special way. Everyone has moments of happiness, glimpses of truth, fleeting experiences of union with God; what they want is to make them permanent. They want to establish an abiding reality in the midst of constant change.
This is a natural desire, based fundamentally on a memory -- dim or clear as the evolution of the individual soul may be low or high -- of its essential unity with God. For every living thing is a partial manifestation of God, conditioned only by its lack of knowledge of its own true nature. The whole of evolution, in fact, is an evolution from unconscious divinity to conscious divinity, in which God Himself, essentially eternal and unchangeable, assumes an infinite variety of forms, enjoys an infinite variety of experiences, and transcends an infinite variety of self-imposed limitations. Evolution from the standpoint of the Creator is a divine sport, in which the Unconditioned tests the infinitude of His absolute knowledge, power and bliss in the midst of all conditions. But evolution from the standpoint of the creature, with its limited knowledge, limited power, limited capacity for enjoying bliss, is an epic of alternating rest and struggle, joy and sorrow, love and hate -- until in the perfected person, God balances the pairs of opposites, and duality is transcended.
Then creature and Creator recognize themselves as one; changelessness is established in the midst of change; eternity is experienced in the midst of time. God knows Himself as God, unchangeable in essence, infinite in manifestation, ever experiencing the supreme bliss of Self-realization in continually fresh awareness of Himself by Himself. This Realization must and does take place only in the midst of life; for it is only in the midst of life that limitation can be experienced and transcended, and that subsequent freedom from limitation can be enjoyed. This freedom from limitation assumes three forms.
Most God-realized souls leave the body at once and forever, and remain eternally merged in the unmanifest aspect of God. They are conscious only of the bliss of Union. Creation no longer exists for them. Their constant round of births and deaths is ended. This is known as Moksha (ordinary Mukti), or Liberation.
Some God-realized souls retain the body for a time; but their consciousness is merged completely in the unmanifest aspect of God, and they are therefore not conscious either of their bodies or of creation. They experience constantly the infinite bliss, power, and knowledge of God; but they cannot consciously use them in creation or help others to attain Liberation. Nevertheless, their presence on earth is like a focal point for the concentration and radiation of the infinite power, knowledge, and bliss of God; and those who approach them, serve them, and worship them are spiritually benefited by contact with them. These souls are called Majzoobs-e-Kamil; and this particular type of Liberation is called Videh Mukti, or liberation with the body.
A few God-realized souls keep the body, yet are conscious of themselves as God in both His unmanifest and His manifest aspects. They know themselves both as the unchangeable divine Essence and as its infinitely varied manifestation. They experience themselves as God apart from creation; as God the Creator, Preserver, and Destroyer of the whole creation; and as God who has accepted and transcended the limitations of creation. These souls experience constantly the absolute peace, the infinite knowledge, power, and bliss of God. They enjoy to the full the divine sport of creation. They know themselves as God in everything; therefore they are able to help everything spiritually and thus help other souls realize God, either as Majzoobs-e-Kamil, Paramhansas, Jivanmuktas -- or even Sadgurus, as they themselves are called.
There are fifty-six God-realized souls in the world at all times. They are always one in consciousness. They are always different in function. For the most part, they live and work apart from and unknown to the general public; but five, who act in a sense as a directing body, always work in public and attain public prominence and importance. These are known as Sadgurus, or Perfect Masters. In Avataric periods the Avatar, as the Supreme Sadguru, takes His place as the head of this body and of the spiritual hierarchy as a whole.
Avataric periods are like the springtide of creation. They bring a new release of power, a new awakening of consciousness, a new experience of life -- not merely for a few, but for all. Qualities of energy and awareness, which had been used and enjoyed by only a few advanced souls, are made available for all humanity. Life, as a whole, is stepped up to a higher level of consciousness, is geared to a new rate of energy. The transition from sensation to reason was one such step; the transition from reason to intuition will be another.
This new influx of the creative impulse manifests, through the medium of a divine personality, an incarnation of God in a special sense -- the Avatar. The Avatar was the first individual soul to emerge from the evolutionary and involutionary process as a Sadguru, and He is the only Avatar who has ever manifested or will ever manifest. Through Him God first completed the journey from unconscious divinity to conscious divinity, first unconsciously became man in order consciously to become God. Through Him, periodically, God consciously becomes man for the liberation of mankind.
The Avatar appears in different forms, under different names, at different times, in different parts of the world. As His appearance always coincides with the spiritual regeneration of man, the period immediately preceding His manifestation is always one in which humanity suffers from the pangs of the approaching rebirth. Man seems more than ever enslaved by desire, more than ever driven by greed, held by fear, swept by anger. The strong dominate the weak; the rich oppress the poor; large masses of people are exploited for the benefit of the few who are in power. The individual, who finds no peace or rest, seeks to forget himself in excitement. Immorality increases, crime flourishes, religion is ridiculed. Corruption spreads throughout the social order. Class and national hatreds are aroused and fostered. Wars break out. Humanity grows desperate. There seems to be no possibility of stemming the tide of destruction.
At this moment the Avatar appears. Being the total manifestation of God in human form, He is like a gauge against which man can measure what he is and what he may become. He trues the standard of human values by interpreting them in terms of divinely human life.
He is interested in everything but not concerned about anything. The slightest mishap may command His sympathy; the greatest tragedy will not upset Him. He is beyond the alternations of pain and pleasure, desire and satisfaction, rest and struggle, life and death. To Him they are equally illusions that He has transcended, but by which others are bound, and from which He has come to free them. He uses every circumstance as a means to lead others toward Realization.
He knows that individuals do not cease to exist when they die and therefore is not concerned over death. He knows that destruction must precede construction, that out of suffering is born peace and bliss, that out of struggle comes liberation from the bonds of action. He is only concerned about concern.
In those who contact Him, He awakens a love that consumes all selfish desire in the flame of the one desire to serve Him. Those who consecrate their lives to Him gradually become identified with Him in consciousness. Little by little their humanity is absorbed into His divinity, and they become free. Those who are closest to Him are known as His Circle.
Every Sadguru has an intimate Circle of twelve disciples who, at the point of Realization, are made equal to the Sadguru himself, though they may differ from him in function and authority. In Avataric periods the Avatar has a Circle of ten concentric Circles with a total of 122 disciples, all of whom experience Realization and work for the Liberation of others. The work of the Avatar and His disciples is not only for contemporary humanity but for posterity as well. The unfoldment of life and consciousness for the whole Avataric cycle, which had been mapped out in the creative world before the Avatar took form, is endorsed and fixed in the formative and material worlds during the Avatar's life on earth.
The Avatar awakens contemporary humanity to a realization of its true spiritual nature, gives Liberation to those who are ready, and quickens the life of the spirit in His time. For posterity is left the stimulating power of His divinely human example -- of the nobility of a life supremely lived, of a love unmixed with desire, of a power unused except for others, of a peace untroubled by ambition, of a knowledge undimmed by illusion. He has demonstrated the possibility of a divine life for all humanity, of a heavenly life on earth. Those who have the necessary courage and integrity can follow when they will.
Those who are spiritually awake have been aware for some time that the world is at present in the midst of a period such as always precedes Avataric manifestations. Even unawakened men and women are becoming aware of it now. From their darkness they are reaching out for light; in their sorrow they are longing for comfort; from the midst of the strife into which they have found themselves plunged, they are praying for peace and deliverance.
For the moment they must be patient. The wave of destruction must rise still higher, must spread still further. But when, from the depths of his heart, man desires something more lasting than wealth and something more real than material power, the wave will recede. Then peace will come, joy will come, light will come.
The breaking of my silence -- the signal for my public manifestation -- is not far off. I bring the greatest treasure it is possible for man to receive -- a treasure that includes all other treasures, that will endure forever, that increases when shared with others. Be ready to receive it.
The 'Avatars' - deities down to earth
by Aryadasa Ratnasinghe
'Wherever there appears
A decrease in righteousness,
An increase in wickedness,
I then myself generate'
- Bhagavad Gita
According to the accepted belief, an 'avatar' is the descent of a deity down to earth in visible embodiment. This earth emanation or the down coming of deities, in their different manifestation, is characteristic of Hinduism, and particularly associated with God Vishnu, the second godhead of the Hindu 'Trimurti' or the Divine Triad. It is not certain why this happened. According to E.G. Parrinder, Professor of Comparative Study of Religions at the University of London, and a world authority on the doctrine of 'avatars', 'Vishnu was quite a minor god in the Vedas (classical scriptures of ancient Aryan Hinduism), mentioned in only a few hymns and chiefly credited with taking great three strides across the universe, as a sun-god whose light fills all the worlds."
The ten 'avatars' of God Vishnu were Matsya (fish), Kurma (tortoise), Varaha (boar), Nursinha (man-lion), Vamana (dwarf), Parasurama (man with an axe), Ramachandra (warrior Rama), Balarama (Sri Krishna) and Buddha (Buddha Gautama) and these have already appeared on earth from time to time.
The earthly emanation of the tenth 'avatar' yet to come is Kalki, "who will appear on a white horse with a flaming sword to restore order and peace in the world subject to wickedness and evil, devoid of righteousness and compassion towards all beings". Some call this 'avatar' Manjusri, or the future Buddha Maitreya, known as Bodhisatva Avalokitheswara Natha of the Mahayana tradition, who will appear in the world in another 2,500 years, once the existing Sasana of the present Buddha becomes defunct
Concept
Prof. Parrinder says that 'the 'avatar' concept appeared relatively late, and died not figure in the Upanishads (esoteric texts of Hindu philosophy), but in the popular tales and teachings of the Great epic Mahabharatha, where the belief emerged to be developed in many later writings" It is said that the 'avatar' concept is first mentioned in the Bhagavad Gita (Song of the Lord), a treatise belonging to the 2nd century BC. The association of the 'avatars' with God vishnu had done a great deal to bring the deity into greater prominence than others, so that, with the passage of time, he became one of the leading deities of the Hindu pantheon. To this day, he remains the greatest and even the only god to millions of Hindus all over the world.
Even the Buddhists venerate God Vishnu with great faith and devotion and consider him as next to Buddha, especially because of his compassionate nature and sublime qualities. Buddhists believe that God Vishnu and God Upulvan are the same who was entrusted with the task of protecting the Buddha Sasana in the island. According to chronicles, Buddha, just before his Mahaparinibbana (demise) had requested God Sakra alias Indra to protect the Sasana, but the God had delegated the authority to God Upulvan, the God of lotus hue. But, Buddhists do not believe that Buddha is an 'avatar' or God Vishnu, and there is no resemblance at all to confirm so.
The 'avatars' Matsya, Kurma and Varaha figure in stories where the God Vishnu in his earthly emanation had fought against evil to save mankind and the world from vicissitudes of nature and specially from the Great Flood (The Deluge) that had inundated a vast area of open land. The flood is supposed to have obliterated the human race from the face of the earth except for a chosen few. Excavations have revealed an eight feet layer of water had covered the face of the earth in or about 4,000 BC, and God Vishnu is supposed to have saved a selected few who were not sinners. There is reference to this Flood in the Holy Bible. It says "And the rain fell and the flood came and the wind blew" (St. Mathew 7:25).
Narratives. At every natural calamity, the God had transformed himself into each of these creatures mentioned as 'avatars' and had saved the world from serious disaster. As Nursinha, he had destroyed a demon who could not be killed by an ordinary man. As Vamana he had strode over the three worlds to fight and kill a demon that was very powerful and was averse towards gods. As Parasurama, he had fought oppressive armies. As Ramachandra (Rama of the Ramayana) he was a warrior king whose consort was Sita. Balarama was a herds-man and a hero. Among these 'avatars', Rama and Krishna figure as important manifestations, and these two along with Sita and Radha (their consorts) hold the centre of devotion among the Hindus.
"In the Puranas, or the popular narratives, other 'avatars' are named, sometimes 22, and these include famous sages and heroes. In some, the Buddha appears as an 'avatar' of God Vishnu, doubtless with the aim of attracting Buddhists back to Hinduism by showing that the Buddha was none but an 'avatar' of the god.
Hinduism developed in the Middle Ages, almost absorbing Indian Buddhism and it remains to this day a great popular force. Devotional religions needs some philosophical justification to make it acceptable to the educated. This justification was provided by the Bhagavad Gita, and developed in later centuries by some of the great Indian thinkers, especially Ramanuja in the 11th century AD. Ramanjua taught that the supreme God Bhraman was the god Vishnu," says Prof. Parrinder.
Rama was a prince, born as an 'avatar' of God Vishnu to overcome evil, and his story is told in another renowned epic, the Ramayana written by the sage Valmiki, and later writings. According to the story, Rama was married to the beautiful princess Sita, herself an 'avatar' of a goddess. Being debarred from his throne, Rama with his wife and brother Luxamana, lived in exile in the forest for 12 years. In the meantime, Sita was abducted by Ravana, the demon-king of Lankapura (Sri Lanka), and Rama pursued them with the help of the monkey-god Hanuman. Finally, Sita was rescued and the royal couple returned to rule their rightful kingdom.
Prof. Parrinder says "that this is a simple heroic story but it came to receive many religious overtones. Rama embodied all the virtues, and his nature as a divinity was revealed even in his infancy. Yet his human sufferings and sorrows in the forest, the death of his father and the loss of his wife, are stressed. The whole narrative of heroic and marital fidelity is taken as a great pattern of human conduct. To this day, many people worship Rama, call upon his name when dying and at cremations, and in the great popular festivals he is prominent. At the Dashara festival, great cardboard figures of Rama and the demon Ravana are paraded in carnivals and exploded by fireworks."
Symbols
Krishna is even more popular and is said to appear in more elaborate tales. In the Great Epic Mahabharatha, little is said about his birth and childhood, but in later stories these became and remain elaborated by popular devotion. According to the story, Krishna was a mischievous child, stealing butter, upsetting milk churns, breaking trees, fighting demons and in his adolescence he was specially the favourite boy of the milkmaids or 'gopis'. His dancing and hiding with the 'gopis' were seen as symbols of the divine love for the soul. Krishna and Radha, his special paramour, symbolised the love, separation and rapturous re-union of god and the soul.
Goddess Pattini is supposed to appear in seven manifestations, viz: Uramala Pattini, Karamala Pattini, Gini Pattini, Devol Pattini, Saman Pattini, Ayragana Pattini and Siddha Pattini, and each one is attributed to some sort of infectious disease believed to be due to the wrath of the divine. They are also represented as the seven 'ammavaru' to whom alms are offered in times of distress beseeching their divine help. Goddess Pattini became deified due to her chastity which is the sublime quality of womanhood. Her earthly name was Kannaki and her husband was Kovalan who deserted her after befriending with Madhavi to satisfy his lustful longings.
The concept of 'avatar' means that deities come down to earth, from time to time, for specific purposes, specially to protect the righteous, destroy the wicked and establish the right, and this process continues age after age.
The Lives of the Avatar
The concept of Avatar is ancient in origin. Briefly described, it means the direct incarnation of God in a human form.
However, Meher Baba himself explained:
"It is very difficult to grasp the entire meaning of the word 'Avatar.' For mankind it is easy and simple to declare that the Avatar is God and that it means that God becomes man. But this is not all that the word 'Avatar' means or conveys.
"It would be more appropriate to say that the Avatar is God and that God becomes man for all mankind and simultaneously God also becomes a sparrow for all sparrows in creation, an ant for all ants in creation, a pig for all pigs in creation, a particle of dust for all dusts in creation, a particle of air for all airs in creation, etc. for each and every thing that is in creation."
According to Meher Baba, the Avatar comes every 700 to 1,400 years, depending on the cycles of time, and the work of the Perfect Masters (see God Speaks).
In His message entitled The Highest of the High, Meher Baba identified the following spiritual figures as major incarnations of the Avatar: Zarathustra, Rama, Krishna, Buddha, Jesus, and Mohammed. On the occasion of the dictation of the Highest of the High message, Meher Baba confirmed that Abraham was an incarnation of the Avatar as well (perhaps a minor incarnation), but for His own reasons did not include Abraham in that list of incarnations. On other occassions He explained about the difference between a major incarnation of the Avatar and a minor incarnation of the Avatar, gaving the example of Shivaji, an Indian warrior, who was a minor incarnation. The He also indicated that there have been countless incarnations of the Avatar before Zarathustra and that the Avatar will continue to come until the end of time.
Major incarnations of the Avatar, in light of Meher Baba's explanations about these figures:
Zarathustra or Zoroaster
Abraham or Abram
Rama or Ram
Krishna
Buddha or Sidhartha Gotamma
Jesus Christ or Yeheshua Ben Yusaf
Mohammed or Prophet Muhammet
Meher Baba or Merwan S. Irani
Zarathustra
(also Zarathushtra, Zarthusht and Spitama Zoroaster)
also known as Zarthusht and Zoroaster, was the third of five sons. His mother was DUGHDHOVA (also known as DOGDO). His father was POURUSHASPA of the clan of Spitama. As a child, Zarathustra was taken care of by the spiritual teacher BURJIN-KURUS. He is said to have had three wives. His second wife was HUOVI (Havovi). He had three sons and three daughters. Among his sons were AUVARTAD-NAR and KHURSED-CHIHAR. His daughter by his first wife was POURUCISTA. Among his disciples were MAIDHYNIMAONHA (MEDHYOMAH), HUTAOS, ZAIN, ISFENDIR (ASPANDIAR), LOHRASP, ZARIR, JAMASP, CHANGRANGANCH, and VISHTASPA (GUSTASP), who was a king.
One of the most fascinating things about Zarathustra (or Zoroaster) is that, according to Meher Baba, he is the earliest well known Avatar in Earth's present history, as Baba explains in His messageThe Highest of the High:
"Of the most recognized and much worshipped manifestations of God as Avatar, that of Zoroaster is the earliest -- having been before Rama, Krishna, Buddha, Jesus and Mohammed. Thousands of years ago, he gave the world the essence of Truth in the form of three fundamental precepts -- Good Thoughts, Good Words, and Good Deeds. These precepts were and are constantly unfolded to humanity in one form or another, directly or indirectly in every cycle, by the Avatar of the Age, as he leads humanity imperceptibly towards the Truth. To put these precepts of Good Thoughts, Good Words and Good Deeds into practice is not as easily done as it would appear, though it is not impossible. But to live up to these precepts honestly and literally is as apparently impossible as it is to practice a living death in the midst of life."
Meher Baba further explains about Zarathustra, and the Avatar:
Meher Baba, 8 October 1922, Juhu (Bombay)
"The light of Zarathustra has been extinguished by his followers themselves. His was the highest form of Sufism.
"If Zarathustra were born again in this material world, he would find it difficult to recognize his own religious tenets as practiced by the present-day followers of his creed.
"The same is true of all religions. The Muslim mullas, Hindu pandits and Zoroastrian dastoors and Christian priests have mutilated the original religion for their own selfish ends."
Interview From a Ghazal by Meher Baba:
Holy Zarathustra - how much did he suffer for the world?
This Saviour's end came at the stroke of an enemy's sword...
The foundation of the Mazdiyasni religion was love.
The knot Zarathustra tied in the kusti is the bond of love. Through love, Zarathustra proved the existence of Truth. May Truth prevail in man's thoughts, words and deeds.
O Zarathustra, the Saviour, bestow love on your followers.
This is my prayer in the kingdom of Ahuramazd.
Mazdiyasni = Zoroastrian
kusti = sacred thread of Zoroastrians
Ahuramazd = impersonal God
"Were someone to ask me who is greater, personal or impersonal God, Tukaram or Bhagwan, Zarathustra or Ahuramazd, Jesus or God the Father, I would definitely answer that Tukaram, Zarathustra and Jesus are greater.
"In fact, they are the greatest of the great, because by being a Sadguru or the Avatar they render infinite service to the universe, and suffer infinitely
by taking upon themselves the burden of the world's infinite amount of sanskaras. Undoubtably a conscious divine person such as Tukaram or Zarathustra, compared to the unconscious hagwan or Ahuramazd (formless God) is definitely greater.
"Zarathustra was actually God in human form, an Avatar. In order to work in creation, he had to come down as man among illiterate, fanatical and hot-
tempered humanity. Had Zarathustra told them to worship him, they would have denounced, harassed and murdered him. They would have thought him an enormous egotist and absolutely crazy.
"So he taught them to pray to formless God. But in reality, by worshiping formless God, they were worshiping him. And consequently they gained the impression that Ahuramazd was greater than arathustra, which was wrong."
"Zarathustra had fourteen disciples whom he Realised. There was one whom he Realised after the fourteen. From him the knowledge and experience of God descended from father to son for 700 years.
"After that, the last one, Dastoor Azer Kaiwan, was false, and obtained the sacred seat and started collecting money. Those who followed him decreed as they thought. After them, until the present, there has been no Realised person among the Zoroastrians.
"Whatever religious books the Zoroastrians have now got are books of these false dastoors, and not of Zarathustra. Zarathustra taught and gave out gems of truth, gems of Sufism, but they are not known to the people. There were tremendous changes in the doctrines set down by Zarathustra made by the false dastoors.
"So my best advice to you is to create love for God. Earn something in my contact. Otherwise, if you spend your time in discussions on religious
doctrines and dogmas, it will take you nowhere toward Truth. It is all rigamarole, and will waste your precious time, which might better be used in
thinking of God, meditating and creating love. Love is the sum and substance of all religions, and the only essential of all creeds. Leave the rigamarole
alone.
"For example, this alphabet board which I use may be given to a child to make him begin the ABCs. But if he merely learns the alphabet without any efforts at proceeding further, he will learn practically nothing. It is the same in religion. The shariat, doctrines and dogmas are given as a preliminary beginning, like the alphabet, to reach the ultimate aim of the realisation of the Truth. After one learns to master the fundamentals, one advances. But if a person merely sticks to religious ceremonies and rituals, and believes that religion is that alone, then he does not advance at all. God and Truth are far, far above shariat, doctrines and dogmas, ceremonies and rituals."
"Prophet Zarathustra lived some six thousand years ago. His Master was a Hebrew. But what the world knows about the religion that came from him is
practically nothing. All these Zoroastrian rites, rituals and ceremonies have come down from the dastoors (priests) and Zarathustra's followers, who began them centuries after his death.
"For example, those ornaments of the Zoroastrian religion, the sadra and kusti, are the outcome of the preachings of the dastoors centuries after Zarathustra's advent. The sadra and kusti have no connection with his teachings. They are nothing but after-creations. I am revealing to you the absolute truth.
"Zarathustra was the greatest Sufi. He was the father of Sufism, and its very foundation owes its creation to him. Sufism began with Zarathustra and ended with Muhammad."
"The Shah Nameh* is almost total fiction. Zoroastrianism is very old, almost 6000 years. The reigns of the famous kings Jal, Rustom and Jamshed, were before Zarathustra, almost 100,000 years ago. Who could authentically document such ancient history?
"Religion as the Parsis practice it today has nothing in it. All the original teachings of Zarathustra were buried and destroyed. Hence what they have is an afterthought, and quite different from what Zarathustra actually said and taught. It is a pity, but true."
Zarathustra and Abraham were both incarnations of the Avatar, according to Meher Baba. The historians Plutarch and Diogenes believed Zarathustra lived 5000 years before the war of Troy (1184 bc). Plato and Aristotle dated him 6000 years before their time. Meher Baba said Zarathustra lived almost 6000 years ago, hence ciraca 4000 bc.
According to Eruch Jessawalla, Meher Baba explained that Abraham, who was a more recent incarnation of the Avatar, had a number of Zoroastrian followers who recognised him as the Prophet Zarathustra come again. Abraham was thus also called Zarathustra. Because of this, some historians believe there were two Zarathustras (some believe there were many Zarathustras). Historians generally date Zarathustra between 1400 and 500 bc., roughly 3000 years later than he actually lived.
Jesus
(Jesus Christ or Yeheshua ben Yusaf [6 B.C. - ? A.D.])
Jesus was a great Jewish teacher, who is considered to be the Christ (from the Greek: literally "The Anointed One") or Son of God by Christians. It is interesting to note that of himself, Jesus said he was the "Son of Man," and ordered His disciples not to reveal His true identity. He is recognized by Islam as a prophet according to the Quran, in which He is mentioned. Many Hindus also recognize Jesus to be an Avatar, or divine incarnation, especially in Northern India, where there are legends of one "Isa" who came from another land to live in the area of Kashmir during the time after the crucifixion of Jesus.
The main body of work relating the life of Jesus is contained in the New Testament Gospels composed by some of the disciples and followers of Jesus: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. The most popular english translation of the gospels is the King James Version (KJV). It is important to realize that the words of the New Testament we read in English have been translated over many years from Hebrew and Aramaic to Greek and other languages, and then lastly English. Besides the KJV New Testament, there are many "apocryphal" or legendary sources relating to the birth, life and death of Jesus. We may publish some of that material here at a later date.
According to the New Testament gospels, Jesus' public life was short lived, with his mission in the world culminating after a few intense years of public teaching, miraculous healing, performing of many other miraculous feats such as walking on water, and generally attempting to reorient Judaism while living amongst the Jews. According to His own words in the gospels, he had no home, and spent his years walking throughout the lands of what is today modern Palestine and Israel, with his disciples, preaching and gathering followers during the time of the Roman occupation of these lands. His radical approach was disturbing to both the Jewish orthodox as well as the Roman government, and after many confrontations between Jesus and the various Jewish sects and groups, he was condemned by both the local Roman government and the overwhelming majority of Jews to death by crucifixion.
Meher Baba has revealed many heretofore unknown aspects of the birth, life and death of the Avatar Jesus, the Christ, which we now share from our friend's web site: The Gospel of Jesus Christ, According to Meher Baba.
Estratti da "THE WAYFARERS" di William Donkin
Copyright 1988 Avatar Meher Baba Perpetual Public Charitable Trust
Persistence of Previous Characteristics
Meher Baba
Now why does one mast become a jalali, another a jamali, another a mahbubi, and so forth? Everyone has to pass through innumerable lives. If one man, who in his past life lived in an environment of strife and great activity, becomes in this life a mast, he is of the jalali type. If another, who led his past life in a quiet village, or was perhaps in a dull and idle environment, becomes in this life a mast, he is of the jamali type.
If in his previous life a man was a bachelor, who may, or may not, have committed the sexual act, and becomes in this life a mast, he is of the mahbubi type. This is because the sanskaras of love for women were unexpressed in his past life, and in this life they find expression in the wearing of some part of a woman's dress, or in acting in some ways like a woman. Tukaram understood this persistence of previous characteristics when he wrote:
Tukaram used to do bhajan from childhood and stay in the company of saints.
Then he became God, and yet he carried on his bhajans; his original nature persists.
He is Quite Indifferent to IT
When the mind does not pay attention to the body, the body, naturally, automatically survives and looks after itself. Now because of a kind of universal working on the gross plane, a sort of automatic attraction takes place, which causes a man who is indifferent to cleanliness to be attracted to place himself in dirty surroundings. He does not purposely choose an unclean place, but tends to gravitate towards it, for he is himself quite indifferent either to cleanliness or to dirt on the physical plane. For those who are God-mad, God-intoxicated, or God-merged, this dirtiness does not affect their health, because the mind is not attached to the body.
For those souls, good or bad, cleanliness or dirt, a palace or a hut, a spotless avenue or a filthy gutter are all the same, and they are driven into any of these places according to circumstance. It is natural for a mast to have a dirty body, and it is natural for him to be driven to dirty surroundings; but if the devotee of a mast happens to give him comfort and cleanliness, he takes it because it is forced on him -- but he is quite indifferent to it.
Meher Baba's Trip to Allahabad to Touch 7,000 Sadhus
TREASURES, ed. Jane Barry Haynes F. H. Dadachanji
Before terminating the seclusion, the fast and the extensive tours for contacting masts, Baba declared that He would touch 7,000 sadhus. This decision did not come as a surprise to some of Baba's old disciples, as some twenty years ago, while traveling in the Nilgiri hills, Baba had said that He would once contact 7,000 sadhus.
The Kumbh Mela of Allahabad is known to be India's greatest fair, where several lakhs of people assemble once every twelve years. The Kumbh Mela of 1941-42 has the additional significance of being known as the Maha Kumbh Mela, having a cycle of 36 years. The spiritual significance of Allahabad, where the Jumna and the mythical Saraswathi have their confluence with the Ganges, draws hundreds of thousands of sadhus to the Kumbh Mela from all parts of the country.
The significance of Meher Baba's selection of the Maha Kumbh Mela of 1942 for contacting the 7,000 sadhus at this turning point in the spiritual history of the world, immediately after the demise of Upasni Maharaj and just before terminating His period of seclusion, etc., will be obvious to those who know Baba.
The creation of opposition by Maya and the consequent material difficulties appearing in every phase of the spiritual work of Baba is well known to His disciples. They also know that the difficulties eventually disappear with the same certainty with which they appear. The trip to Allahabad was no exception to the rule. Immediately after Baba's decision to go to Allahabad to contact the sadhus, we read in the papers of the decision of the Government of India to cancel all special trains to Allahabad -- important and usual feature of the Kumbh Mela -- on account of military requirements. Not only the specials were cancelled, but the ordinary number of trains had also to be reduced, as also the number of carriages in the remaining trains. A rush to get to the trains was therefore expected as a certainty, particularly on account of the evacuation of some of the eastern ports. We were confident that in spite of the difficulties Baba's work would be completed; but at the same time we were under no delusion about the troubles to be encountered.
Meher Baba decide to leave Meherabad on 29th December 1941 by the morning train. When we came to the station we were informed that the line was blocked by military specials and that it was not known when the passenger train would arrived at Ahmednagar; and that therefore we would not be able to get the Allahabad connecting train from Manmad. Soon we found ourselves driving with Baba on the Ahmednagar- Manmad road in a bus supplied by Sarosh Motor Works.
The road from Ahmednagar to Manmad passes some important spiritual centers, including the Dargh of Sai Baba; Sakori, the residence of Upasni Maharaj; and Dahigaon, where the meeting between Meher Baba and Upasni Maharaj took place. The question there which puzzled us was whether it was really an accident that we had to make this eleventh hour change, or whether it had deeper significance that Baba should go on His important spiritual mission crossing the spiritual atmosphere of Sakori and the surrounding country. As we were traveling in the bus, Baba pointed out to us the hut where He met Upasni Maharaj last. The quiet hut could be seen far away from the road.
The beautiful Ankai Hills, about ten miles from Manmad, are known to several disciples of Baba who have spent time in meditation there. As we came near the Ankai Hills, Baba called a halt for breakfast. All had enjoyed the memorable drive with Baba, and the rough road with the deep ruts and holes had added to the pleasure, while the bumps and jerks had made everybody all the more hungry. Baba sat near us under a huge banyan tree. A beautiful clear stream was flowing nearby and we had an excellent breakfast, then continued our journey and reached the station in time for the Allahabad train.
We arrived at Allahabad about ten o'clock in the morning on the 29th. After breakfast and a little rest at a hotel, Baba went out to the Kumbh Mela grounds with some of the members of the mandali. On reaching the grounds, we soon discovered that the work of touching the 7,000 sadhus was not going to be an easy task. It was hot and sultry, while the Mela ground was all sandy, and the sadhus were scattered throughout a radius of about two miles. Different schemes were suggested by the mandali for carrying out what seemed to be a herculean job; Baba did not approve any of the schemes. In fact, had He done so, several days would have been spent at Allahabad. Baba adopted His own scheme.
First of all, we had a reconnaissance round with Baba, which consisted of about four hours of strenuous walk in the loose sand and scorching sun. During this rapid survey, we crossed the Ganges and the Jumna twice in a boat. While passing across the confluence of the Jumna and Ganges, Baba remarked that Allahabad is known for its spiritual atmosphere from days of old.
Having seen the place generally and deciding upon His program of work, Baba started the contacts with the sadhus. It was about sunset time when baba touched the first sadhu. This sadhu, whom we encountered accidentally, as it were, when Baba decided to begin the contact work, was a very typical person. He was gazing straight at the setting sun and shouting loudly "Jap! Jap!" (Meditate! Meditate!) He was the only sadhu amongst the hundreds of thousands of them in the Kumbh Mela who had put on a typically mixed dress, partly Eastern style and partly Western. The long garment of the average Indian sadhu with some dirty torn clothes perhaps represented the East; while the old and shabby hat on his head was the probable pointer for the West. The question as to whether Baba selected this first sadhu accidentally, or whether the selection had a deep meaning, would provide an interesting study to the lovers of Baba's work of universal spiritual upliftment.
It is impossible to describe in words the second sadhu whom Meher Baba touched. Those who have read the life of Shri Chaitanya Maha Prabhoo, or have seen some of the pictures depicting his divine ecstasy, might be reminded of the condition of Shri Chaitanya when he was experiencing Divine Love and when he was dancing with lifted hands on the seashore at Jagannath Puri on seeing the visions of his beloved Krishna. To get some idea of the unforgettable scene we saw at Allahabad on 30th December 1941 at sunset, when Baba met the second sadhu at the Kumbh Mela, you have to substitute the sadhu in place of Shri Chaitanya and Baba in place of his beloved Krishna and the sandy bank of the ganges in place of the Puri beach.
The sadhu -- a young person about thirty years of age with a most handsome appearance and charming personality -- saw Baba from a distance of some fifty paces, and for a while he danced with lifted hands as if he were in the happiest moment of his life. He walked a little and then sat down as if the feeling had overpowered him. Baba met him like the most loving mother embracing the dearest child. The sadhu was completely naked and his body was covered with dust and sand, but the way Baba was treating him showed that to Baba the apparently dirty body of the sadhu was of no consequence. Subsequently, when referring to this sadhu, Baba said he was a soul merged in the ocean of Divine Love. Baba further remarked: "If someone were to ask me what makes me happiest, my reply would be 'embracing a mast' (a God-intoxicated soul) like the one you saw today."
Referring to the value of the love of the marvelous sadhu, Baba said: "Such love consumes the false ego and annihilates the lower self in the supra-conscious state wherein the highest asserts itself. Just as the state of man's communion with God, the soul's identification with the Oversoul and the lover's union with the Beloved are beyond the realm of understanding, so also is the state of this perfect lover of God indescribable."
The second sadhu -- a living Chaitanya Maha Prabhoo -- had such attraction for Baba that in spite of the most strenuous labor He had to undergo the next day in contacting thousands of sadhus, Baba insisted on meeting this individual again, and spent about half an hour with him, in spite of the heavy pressure on His time.
On the first day, after acquainting Himself with the location of the sadhu camps, Meher baba touched 359 sadhus. All of us were completely exhausted. Nobody, however, liked to say this and thus to interfere with Baba's work. To everybody's relief, Baba Himself said that He was tired and that the work would be resumed the next day. That in fact Baba was not really tired, and merely came to our rescue by saying so, became clear to us when, the next day, He arranged matters in such a way that while He had to move about constantly in the soft sand, we had to remain at specific places where He could easily communicate with us, while He moved about almost like a machine with inexhaustible energy.
He had not only to move about, but had also to bend down to touch the sadhus who were to be found in different postures. Some were lying on the ground, some were squatting, some were themselves moving about, while some were found in small huts with narrow, low doors. While we admired Baba's energy and power of endurance, we were growing more and more anxious about the after-effects of this herculean task on His health.
By the evening Baba had exceed the figure of 7,000 in touching the sadhus. The actual hours of work were from about 6:00 in the morning to about 11:00 in the forenoon; and again from about 6:00 to 9:00 in the evening. The prayer time in the morning and evening selected by Baba helped Him considerably in doing the work quickly. Sadhus in groups of hundred were found collected at different places for the prayers. Similarly at some of the big camps called the "Akhadas" of the sadhus, hundreds of them were found early in the morning. Again at the "Annachatras" (centers for distribution of free food to the sadhus) many of them were found in large numbers.
Baba was not idle between 11 a.m and 6 p.m. on the 31st of December, the final day of the work of touching the sadhus. After late breakfast and about two hours rest, He took us to Naini, a place about five miles from Allahabad, to meet a mast. This mast had a charming personality and was known locally as Cha Sahib. We found him sitting on a cot inside a dark room where a fire was burning.
Baba had asked us to take with us tea in a large teapot, as Cha Sahib is exceedingly fond of tea. Seeing us at the door of the room, Cha Sahib got up from the bed and received us in a way that indicated he was expecting us and had known us for a long time. The sweet smile on his face, his sparkling lovely eyes and his lively gait showed that he was in the happiest of moods. He took the tea- pot from us and placed it on the fire and made us sit on his cot. He allotted a corner of the room away from us to baba, and while pretending to talk to us generally about our health, and inviting us to have tea, he was all the while enjoying stealthy glances at Baba, who seemed to be so happy in the little dark corner of Cha Sahib's room. We again realized how Baba really feels so happy in the company of the masts. After spending about half an hour with Cha Sahib, Baba returned with us to Allahabad, where He went straight to the Mela grounds and completed the work of touching the 7,000 sadhus that evening.
On returning to the hotel at about 9 p.m., Baba had only a glass of ginger and then took a hot tub-bath before retiring to bed. With the strenuous work of the day, we were concerned about Baba's health, but He again gave us a surprise by getting up a five o'clock in the morning and feeling as fit as ever. His work having been completed to His satisfaction, Baba was in a very good mood, and after tea we left Allahabad by the Bombay Mail on the morning of the New Year, 1942.
GOD-MAD, GOD-INTOXICATED, GOD-MERGED
Meher Baba
In these three types also, greed, anger, avarice and lust do not exist, since the minds of the God-mad and God-intoxicated are always turned towards God, and the God-merged has no mind; their bodily actions are not under their control. They are indifferent to everything, so that their actions are either indifferently controlled, or are controlled by God. Whatever they do, whether it be called good or bad from worldly standards, it has no selfish motive or personal deliberation.
So if these persons laugh or cry, seem happy or morose, caress others or beat them, they are not conscious of what they do, or of how they behave. Nevertheless, their doing acts in anger helps those on whom this unconscious anger is spent, because their selfless anger destroys the anger sanskaras of the recipient. In ordinary circumstances, if A gets angry with, and beats B, B's red sanskaras of anger become attached to A; A loses and B gains. If B also gets angry and beats A, then both are equal. If a mast hits either A or B, their sanskaras of anger are destroyed, but these sanskaras do not recoil on the mast; but if either A or B hits the mast, it is a terrible binding
FOOLS of GOD
Elizabeth Paterson
The quaint town of Mattura seems in harmony with ancient pastoral times. As we approached the place along the river where Krishna played with His "gopis," a youngish man wearing what is called a fool's cap sat on the steps playing his flute. So sweetly he played that one was attracted to this "court jester," and the ancient "song of Krishna" which he was rendering is one of the most beautiful in India.... The moment this man noticed Baba, he stopped his playing and in a voice loud enough for those with Baba to hear said, "Here comes the Flute Player," which is the other name for Krishna.
All the time we went about the small town, this mendicant followed Baba or ran ahead. How he smiled at Baba! Just around the bend of the street we would hear his flute sounds. It was like a haunting melody. He didn't want money, he didn't want anything and when he passed several people smiled, thinking him to be a "fool" with his dancing steps and flute. Towards the end he seemed to become almost ecstatic and our guide, thinking he was annoying us, tried to drive him away with a stick. Upon this, Baba immediately protected him and gave the guide to understand He liked it. Baba told us that this was the man for whom He had come. There are "fools of God" who often take this guise so the world will pass them by, in order to accomplish freely their own work.
Baba embraced him and stroked his cheek and gave him two coins. Just before returning to the bus, extraordinary greetings or signals went on between Baba and this mendicant.... As Baba drove off in the bus, we saw him dancing on tip-toe, like the Pied Piper of Hamlin and waving his flute in a most rapturous manner. Some old hard-faced priests standing near the temple looked at him scornfully and then the contagion of joy was so great that even they
Those Who Bear Witness
William Donkin
Azim Khan Baba, a high mast of Muttra, 14th October 1946: When Baba contacted him, he (Azim Khan Baba) said, "You are Allah; you have brought forth the creation, and once in a thousand years you come down to see the play of what you have created."
Bhorwala Baba, an adept pilgrim of Bhor, January 1947:
He said of Baba, "Meher Baba has in him the whole universe, he is the Master of everyone, and he is within every disciple. He is this world, that which is above it, and below it; he is in me and in everyone. He is the saint of saints; he is Tajuddin Baba; in one glance he sees the whole continent of India."
Chotu Mian, a good mast of Sangamner, 1st June 1943:
He was brought to Meherabad by Baidul. When Baidul met him in Sangamner, Chotu Mian said to him, "Your prophet is very great; he is greater than Christ and Mahomet, and all the world will believe in him."
Gulab Baba, a sixth plane mast of Ellichpur, March 1939:
When Baba entered the room Gulab Baba told Kaka, painting to Baba, "He (Baba) is God Himself, and you have tricked me." A few moments later, when Baba asked Gulab Baba to sit beside him, he protested, "I am not fit to sit beside him."
Khala Masi, a high mastani of Seoni, March 1939:
She was brought to Jubbalpore by Chhagan, and told Baba, "You are the Ocean, give me a few drops from it to drink."
Mai Saheb, a very good mastani of Sukkur, 17th June 1924:
She asked Ramju who his "Pir" (spiritual master) was. He told her, "Meher Baba," and she replied, "Badshah -- Shahenshah" (King -- King of Kings).
Nadir Ali Shah, spiritual chargeman of Quetta, March 1941:
He refused to come for Baba's contact saying, "My boat will be drowned in that Ocean."
Nanga Baba, a very high mast, between the sixth plane and the seventh, of Jasgiran, September 1943:
He pointed to Baba and said, "He is my elder brother; he adjusts and protects the whole world."
Sakhi Baba, a good mast of Bahraich, March 1942:
When Baba appeared, Sakhi Baba put dancing bells on his ankles and danced, sang, and cried out, "God has come to give His darshan."
Subhan Mattu, a good mast of Srinagar, Kashmir, 20th August 1944:
He was brought to the house, and when he saw Baba, he rolled on the ground, and cried out, "He is God."
BABA Would Emerge With Face Pale and Tired
William Donkin
In the pleasant hours between supper and bedtime, when Baba's mandali sit about and talk of the day's happenings, or of anything in general, the topic often turns to the subject of Baba and his mast work. At such times, it is generally conceded that Kaka's outstanding achievement was that of bringing Karim Baba of Calcutta to Baba in 1940. The consummation of Baidul's work was, without a doubt, the almost miraculous accomplishment of bringing Chacha all the way from Ajmer to Satara in June 1947.
It is, perhaps, not possible to give an idea of the waywardness, the obduracy, or if you like to call a spade a spade, of the out and out obstinacy of a majzoob such a Chacha. In their relationships with the world and its workaday folk, such men take not the slightest notice of anyone. They appear either to harbour a kind of spiritual disdain for mankind, or are merely as utterly indifferent to it as a new-born child; and it is only when they feel the pull of a greater spiritual force such as Baba, that they occasionally comply with the requests of Baba's mandali. In this way, Gulab Baba of Ellichpur, whom Kaka brought to the Jubbulpore Ashram in 1939, was interesting, for the remarks of Gulab Baba showed that he felt Baba drawing him, fought against it, but was compelled to come to him, in spite of a part of his nature that struggled against it.
At the end of May 1947, Baba and his group moved from Mahableshwar to Satara. Plans were made for a mast ashram as soon as Baba arrived, and Baidul was despatched to Ajmer with orders to try to bring Chacha to Satara.
By the end of May the Indian landscape is scorched and forbidding, and the dry soil seems to yearn for the drenching monsoon rains that come in June. As Baidul traversed this dreary landscape on his way to Ajmer, one imagines the kind of long thoughts of hope and doubt that came and went through his mind as he drew nearer and nearer to Chacha's home. He reached Ajmer in the last week of May. The annual festival of Khwaja Saheb was in full swing, the weather was abominably hot, the water supply deficient, and the place was seething with crowds come to visit the great shrine.
For three or four days Baidul made frequent visits to Chacha, but all attempts to persuade him to come away were fruitless. On the evening of 31st May he went again, by now depressed by a conviction that his task was hopeless, and Chacha asked him to bring rice, mutton and curds, and to feed him. This Baidul did, and Chacha then asked for more. This request having been satisfied, he finally ordered, and was given, some iced water. Baidul was then inspired to gather the forces of his persuasion and throw them in a direct and final frontal attack on Chacha's obduracy, and grasping Chacha by the hand, he told him to come along with him. To Baidul's astonishment Chacha got up at once, picking up a piece of dirty blanket from the floor, and followed him out into the street. The two climbed into a tonga and went at once to the station.
Unless one has seen a religious fair in India, it is barely possible to visualize the colourful crowds of pilgrims wandering here and there in a mood of cheerful relaxation. If one is part of the crowd, busy with no special task, the sight of such honest folk is fascinating. Baidul, however, bent on the definite purpose of bringing Chacha to Baba, found these crowds an additional obstacle across his path. The railway station, as the gateway through which most of the pilgrims to Ajmer must arrive and depart, was obstructed by a milling concourse of passengers, and it was at once obvious that it would be impossible to get Chacha either into the station, or on to any train leaving for Bombay. Baidul, therefore, hired a taxi, and coaxing Chacha into it, drove to Beawar, about thirty miles to the south-west.
At Beawar, he managed to get Chacha into a train, and with many changes at many junctions, he bore his precious charge closer and closer to Baba. Whenever he had to get Chacha out of one train into another, he would call for the special chair that is kept on every important station for carrying invalids, and would have Chacha lifted onto this chair, and transported to the next train. On 3rd June the two arrived in Satara, and Baba's daily contact with Chacha began.
Imagine a small, rectangular room, with whitewashed walls, a cool floor of grey Shahabad stone, two windows, and a door opening directly on to a sunlit gravel space between the back of the house and the low kitchen buildings. In front of this room, a screen of tattya made a small enclosure about the size of the room itself and created a kind of private compound, so that the room was secluded from those walking to and fro on the various tasks of the ashram.
In one corner of this unadorned room, upon an oblong strip of matting, Chacha sat. Throughout the five weeks that he stayed in Satara he never moved from this room, and although most of the day he sat in his accustomed corner facing the doorway, he would occasionally spontaneously move a few yards, and sit in an opposite angle of the room.
Each day, Baba spent most of his time plying Chacha with tea and food, or sitting with him in silent conference. During these weeks, after sitting for an hour or two with Ali Shah, and particularly with Chacha, Baba would emerge with face pale and tired, and often with clothes drenched in perspiration. It seemed as if, in his silent conferences with these great masts, he had to focus the rays of his infinite power through the lens of his body -- and his body felt the strain
GOD'S Wrath Made Manifest
Bal Natu
Sabir's life presents an incredible illustration of the powers of the planes. While Sabir was staying in Kalyar, he once had a whim to visit a local mosque for the morning payers. As it was considerably earlier than the time for prayers he found the mosque totally vacant. He took his seat behind that of the Pesh-Iman (one who leads the prayers) in the first row. After a while, people began coming into the mosque.
Each person, upon finding Sabir, a man of dirty appearance and tattered clothes, sitting up front, asked him to move back one row, until by the time the prayers were to start, Sabir had been thrown out of the mosque and had to sit on the step of the outer door. He was greatly annoyed at this, especially since inside a mosque all are supposed to be treated equally, irrespective of their social status.
At the appointed time the nimaz began. When the congregation had bowed down in supplication to Allah, Sabir cried aloud, "O Mosque, how can you bear such an insolence on this part of the people and stand erect? Why don't you come down?" And it is said that the huge structure immediately toppled down and that the congregation was buried alive. It was also noticed that the flourishing city of Kalyar, from that day on, began to decline and eventually fell into ruins. Perhaps this is an example of God's wrath made manifest through the utterance of one of His children, a powerful jalali mast.
As a Mirror Reflects the Sun
Elizabeth C. Patterson
Quite unexpectedly we arrived at a high gate of rattan with stone posts, just off the road which led through the small village of Rahuri. A sound from our horn and the gate swung open in welcome, disclosing a bungalow on either side, and soon we saw Baba on a porch, surrounded by the men of his mandali. He wore His usual white robe over which was a worn-looking reddish jacket. His beautiful glance drew all together in close harmony....
After smilingly introducing Norina and myself to the disciples assembled, Baba led us further into the property where the madmen were congregating under a spreading mango tree. From among a number of madmen brought to Him, Baba had selected a few whom He terms "God-mad." These are advanced souls whose spiritual yearning and practices had led them out of the normal state. Baba pointed out to us, as we looked around, that this one was on "the Path"; that one had a slight breeze of spirituality blowing through him; another was quite mad but harmless; and the young fellow who started to beat on a tin can, as on a tom-tom, was very good but "goofy."
Baba told us that He loved them all very much, and indeed when we saw Him embrace these ragged, world-ridiculed men, the beautiful scene of Saint Francis embracing the leper came to our minds with all its touching realism. We witnessed the dull-eyed, dark piece of humanity called "Goofy" turn his face up to the Master's and an unforgettable expression came to life and glowed in his eyes -- like the primordial divine stirring in a piece of mud. His wits were completely absent, only the clay of humanity was there, yet we could indeed envy this creature who could so directly use his intuition that he perceived Baba in his "radiant state."
Goofy's blurred eyes caught the vision as a mirror reflects the sun. We in our normal consciousness saw only the gleam of his reflection, yet the transformation in him was so apparent and beautiful that it made a response in our hearts. To be thus unhampered from the shackles of the mind was the sort of freedom that a wave must know as it tosses towards the sun! As soon as Baba withdrew, the light in the youth's eyes receded and he turned towards us as nonexistent, but they would always leap with joy each time Baba returned.
Divine Recognition
Eruch Jessawala
One day in January, 1947, I brought an adept pilgrim to Mahableshwar where Meher Baba was staying at the time. He was a thin, elderly Muslim with a kind face, and he was known as Bhorwala Baba since he lived in Bhor, a village abut twenty-five miles from Mahableshwar.
Keeping Baba's injunction not to reveal His name, I had told Bhorwala Baba that we were going to meet my elder brother, but to my utter surprise, he at once responded that he was not being taken to meet my brother, but to Meher Baba.
He then added, "Meher Baba has in Him the whole universe. He is the Master of everyone and He is within every disciple. He is this world, that which is above it and below it. He is in me and in everyone. He is the Saint of saints and in one glance He sees the whole of India."
As soon as we arrived in Mahableshwar, I told Baba what this mast had said and Baba decided not to meet him. Baba then had supper sent to Bhorwala Baba and ordered that after a night's rest, he should be sent back to Bhor.
Although Meher Baba did not always avoid contact with masts who recognized Him, as a general rule He preferred not to meet them, since in some way known only to Baba Himself, they do not harmonize with the needs of His work.
Bibliography
Abbott, J.E. & N.R. Godbole; Stories of Indian Saints; Delhi, 1996 (repr. 1933)
Alcock, J.E. Parapsychology: Science or Magic? Oxford, 1981
Basham, A.L; The Wonder that was India; London, 1967
Basham, A.L; History and Doctrine of the Ajivikas; London, 1951
Bayly, C.A. (ed.); The Raj, India and the British 1600-1947; London, 1990.
Behanan, K.T.; Yoga, a Scientific Evaluation.; New York, 1964.
Besant, A. & Bhagavan Das.; The Bhagavad Gita.; Delhi, 1986.
Bhagat, M.G.; Ancient Indian Asceticism.; New Delhi, 1976.
Briggs, G.W.; Gorakhnath and the Kanphata Yogis.; Delhi, 1973.
Campbell, J.; The Masks of God: Oriental Mythology.; London, 1962.
Carrithers, M.; The Forest Monks of Sri Lanka: an Anthropological and Historical Study.; Delhi 83
Chakraborti, H.; Asceticism in Ancient India, in Brahmanical, Buddhist, Jaina and Ajivika Societies (from the Earliest Times to the Period of Sankaracharya).; Calcutta, 1973.
Coster, G.; Yoga and Western Psychology: a Comparison.; London, 1945.
Dare, M.P.; Indian Underworld: a First-hand Account of Hindu Saints, Sorcerers and Superstition
Dimock, E.C.; The Place of the Hidden Moon, Erotic Mysticism in the Vaishnava-Sahajiya Cult of Bengal.; Chicago, 1966.
Dubois, Abbé J.A.; Hindu Manners, Customs and Ceremonies.; New Delhi, 1983.
Eck, D.L.; Banaras, City of Light.; London, 1983.
Eliade, M. Yoga, Immortality and Freedom. Princeton, 1969.
Freud, Sigmund. The Future of an Illusion. Standard edition of the complete psychological works Freud, Sigmund. Civilization and its Discontents. In The standard edition of the complete 1968.
Fuchs, Steven; Godmen on the Warpath; A Study of Messianic Movements in India; New Delhi 92.
Ghurye, G.S.; Indian Sadhus.; Bombay, 1964.
Gonda, J.; Vishnuism and Saivism, a Comparison.; London, 1970.
Gross, R.L.; The Sadhus of India: a Study of Hindu Asceticism.; Jaipur 1992.
Hawley, J.S. and D.M. Wulff (eds.).; The Divine Consort: Radha and the Goddesses of India.; 82.
Isacco, E.; Krishna, the Divine Lover.; London, 1982.
James, William.; The Varieties of Religious Experience.; London, 1902.
Jayakar, Pupul.; The Earth Mother: Legends, Ritual Arts and Goddesses of India.; S.Francisco 90.
Kakar, Sudhir.; Shamans, Mystics and Doctors: A Psychoanalysis into India and Its Healing Tradt
Kakar, Sudhir. Intimate relations, exploring Indian sexuality. Chicago, 1990
Kinsley, D.; 'Through the Looking Glass: Divine Madness in the Hindu Religious Tradition.' Kramrisch, S.; The Presence of Siva.; Princeton, 1981.
Krishna, Gopi. The Awakening of Kundalini. Bombay, (repr.) 1983.
Lach, D.F.; India in the Eyes of Europe: the Sixteenth Century.; Chicago, 1968.
Ludwig, A.M. "Altered States of Consciousness" in Tart, Charles.Altered States of Consciousness.
Lorenzen, D.N.; The Kapalikas and Kalamukhas: Two Lost Saivite Sects.; Los Angeles, 1972.
Malinowski, B. Magic, Science and Religion. New York, 1954.
Maslow, A.. The Farther Reaches of Human Nature. New York, 1971.
Masson, J.M. 'The Psychology of the Ascetic.' Journal of Asian Studies. XXXV no. 4, 1976.
McDaniel, June; The Madness of the Saints: Ecstatic Religion in Bengal; Chicago, 1989
Meisner, M.W. ed.; Discourses on Siva.; Bombay, 1984
Miller, B.S. (tr.); Lovesong of the Dark Lord: Jayadeva's Gitagovinda.; New York, 1977.
Mitter, P.; Much Maligned Monsters.; London, 1977.
Nanda, S.; Neither Man nor Woman, the Hijras of India.; Belmont, Ca. USA, 1990.
Narayan, Kirin.; Saints, Scroundrels and Storytellers: Folk Narrative in Hindu Religious Teachng
Neumann, E.; The Great Mother: An Analysis of the Archetype.; New York, 1963.
O'Flaherty, W.D.; Asceticism and Eroticism in the Mythology of Shiva.; London, 1973.
O'Flaherty, W.D.; Sexual Metaphors and Animal Symbolism in Indian Mythology.; Delhi, 1981.
Oman, J.C.; The Mystics, Ascetics and Saints of India.; London, 1984.
Oman, J.C.; The Brahmans, Theists and Muslims of India: Studies of Goddess-Worship in Bengal, with Descriptive Sketches of Curious Festivals, Ceremonies, and Faquirs.; London, 1910
Omont, H. (facsimile ed.); Le Livre des Merveilles.; Paris, 1907.
Parpola, Asko.; Further Progress in the Indus Script Decipherment..; Copenhagen, 1970.
Parry, J.P. Burghart, R. and A. Cantlie (ed.).; 'The Aghori Ascetics of Benares." Indian Religion.;
Polo, Marco. Tr. Latham, R.; The Travels of Marco Polo.; Hammondsworth, 1965.
Ramachandra Rao, S.K.; The Tantra of Shri Chakra.; Bangalore, 1983.
Sadananda Giri.; Society and Sannyasi, a History of the Dasnami Sannyasis.; Varanasi, 1976.
Siegel, L.; Sacred and Profane Dimensions of Love in Indian Traditions in Gitagovinda of Jayadeva
Sinha, S. & B. Saraswati.; Ascetics of Kashi.; Varanasi, 1978.
Sircar, D.C. (ed.); The Sakti Cult and Tara.; Calcutta, 1967.
Skurzak, L.; Études sur l'origine de l'ascétisme Indien.; Wroclaw, 1948.
Smith, D. Werner, K. (ed.); 'Aspects of the Symbolism of Fire.' Symbols in Art and Religion. 90.
Staal, F.; Exploring Mysticism, A Methodological Essay.; Berkeley, 1975.
Stace, W.T.; Mysticism and Philosophy; London, 1961
Stanley, John M. ; The Great Maharashtrian Pilgrimage: Pandharpur and Alandi.; Westport,
Subramaniam, Kamala; Mahabharata; Bombay, 1977
Svoboda, Robert, E.; Aghora: At the Left Hand of God; New York, 1993
Tagore, R.; Songs of Kabir.; New Delhi, 1985.
Tart, Charles (ed.). Altered States of Consciousness. New York, 1969.
Thomas, P.; Festivals and Holidays of India.; Bombay, 1971.
Tripathi, B.D.; Sadhus of India.; Bombay, 1978.
Trivedi, R.K.; Census of India, vol. V, Gujarat, Part VII-B, Fairs and Festivals; 1961
Werner, K. (ed.).; The Yogi and the Mystic.; London, 1989.
West, M. A. (ed.). The Psychology of Meditation. Oxford, 1987.
Zide, A.R.K. and K.V. Zvelebil (eds.).; The Soviet Decipherment of the Indus Valley Script: 76.
Satya Sai Baba
di Antonio Sarubbi
Nel panorama delle religioni orientali, Satya Sai Baba rappresenta una figura particolare:
Non è il fondatore di una nuova religione: tutte le religioni sono strade diverse per arrivare ad un unico Dio, che è Amore
“La gente che non ha una visuale così aperta vede tra una nazione e l’altra delle differenze apparenti e perfino immaginarie. Vera saggezza è saper discernere e intravedere la fondamentale unità che sta sotto tutte le diversificazioni epidermiche della cultura del mondo. Lo stesso va detto anche per il modo di concepire la religione. Affermare che l’Induismo, il Buddismo, il Cristianesimo, l’Islam, e altro sono religioni diverse, tradisce non solo una ristrettezza di mente, ma anche un equivoco sul senso della parola “religione”. “Religione” vuol dire “realizzazione” e, dal momento che il realizzarsi è una meta unica e identica per tutti, indipendentemente da qualsiasi religione sia professata dagli uomini, che sono diversi, ne consegue per logica che tutte le religioni sono fondamentalmente riconducibili all’unità: ovvero, per essere più precisi, c’é una sola religione.” (Corso Estivo 1990, pag. 72)
“La beatitudine è la meta finale di ogni vostra impresa, terrena o spirituale. La beatitudine è il fine di tutte le religioni. Molte possono essere le strade, ma unico è il punto di arrivo, come molti sono i gioielli ma unico l’oro; molte le mucche, ma unico il latte. Perciò, non criticate mai nessuna religione. Accanto alla vostra istruzione, sviluppate l’equanimità e l’amore universale, in modo che possiate sperimentare l’unità nella diversità”
“Esiste un solo Dio per tutti, benché ci siano diverse religioni e differenti nomi e forme di Dio. Qualunque sia il nome e la forma con cui l’uomo compie il culto, la sua adorazione raggiunge l’unico e solo Dio.
“Amore, Amore, Amore! L’Amore è Dio. Vivete nell’Amore. Senza Amore la vostra vita è priva di significato. In verità, senza Amore, nemmeno esistereste. Quando c’è la luce, non c’è bisogno di una lampadina o di altre fonti luminose per vedere la Luna. Vedete la Luna per tramite della Luna stessa. Dio è l’incarnazione dell’Amore: potete vedere l’incarnazione dell’Amore solo per mezzo dell’Amore. Non sono necessarie altre discipline spirituali. Solo amore, Amore, Amore. Sviluppate, dunque, questo spirito di Amore. Non esiste un Dio riservato agli Americani, agli Italiani o agli Indiani. Dio Esiste per tutti. Dio non fa differenze di persone. Tutti i popoli sono Suoi. Io appartengo a voi e voi a Me. Voi siete tutti Miei. Questo è il rapporto di Amore che dovete mantenere con Dio. Se avete questo Amore, non avete bisogno di altre pratiche, come per esempio dei rituali di preghiera, di mantra, di meditazione, quantunque in ogni caso servano a purificare la mente.
“Riconoscete l’amore che è in voi, esaltatelo ed offrite voi stessi.
L’AMORE È DIO. VIVETE NELL’AMORE.
CERCATE L’AMORE,
SVILUPPATE L’AMORE,
DEDICATEVI ALL’AMORE.
INCOMINCIATE IL GIORNO CON AMORE.
RIEMPITE IL GIORNO DI AMORE.
CHIUDETE IL GIORNO CON AMORE.
TRASCORRTE IL GIORNO CON AMORE.
QUESTA È LA STRADA CHE PORTA A DIO.
OTTENETE AMORE, SOLTANTO CON L’AMORE
Siate consci della divinità di un tale Amore non contaminato da interessi egoistici. Ricordate Dio con Amore.”
Non pretende che i suoi devoti abbandonino la propria religione: si deve cambiare sé stessi;
“Molti, a seconda della loro estrazione religiosa e della loro indole, si dedicheranno a vari tipi di discipline spirituali, ma, qualsiasi durata abbiano queste pratiche, non noterete in essi alcun cambiamento. Costoro, scoraggiati e frustati per gli scarsi risultati ottenuti, finiscono per cambiare non solo il nome, ma persino la religione. Non otterrete la grazia di Dio con un mero cambiamento di religione. Dovete cambiare nella mente, nel modo di pensare. Non avrete le qualità di Dio, limitandovi a cambiare il vestito, ma dovrete cambiare le vostre stesse qualità. Soltanto chi cambia la mente ottiene in sé le qualità umane”
“La mente è la causa della vostra incapacità a comprendere la reale natura del mondo. Caratteristica della mente è quella di essere proiettata verso l’esterno. L’uomo spreca la vita inseguendo giorno e notte cose esteriori, come case, terreni, macchine, ricchezze e altre cosiddette “proprietà”, che, in verità, non gli sono proprie. L’uomo è forse nato per queste bazzecole? No. No. No. Il compito principale della sua vita è nel realizzare Dio: l’uomo deve prendere piena coscienza di Dio, sentire Dio, vedere Dio e parlare a Dio. Questa è realizzazione. Questa è religione. Non serve a niente sapere di tutto e non conoscere Dio.”
“Sii fermo e non vacillare! Sii fedele al tuo ideale e non disperare. Prega fintanto che Dio non ti ascolta e non allontanarti da Lui se la Sua Grazia non è ancora discesa su di te, perché Essa non scende al tuo comando.
Quando una religione cerca di estendere la propria influenza, ricorre alla diffamazione delle altre religioni ed esagera la propria importanza. Ricorre all’effetto e alla pubblicità invece che alla pratica e alla fede. Sai vuole che i fedeli di ciascuna religione coltivino la fede nella grandiosità della propria e realizzino la sua validità attraverso una pratica intensa. Questa è la religione del Sai, la religione che nutre tutte le religioni ed enfatizza la loro comune grandezza.
Adottate questa religione con gioia e con coraggio.
Non pretende pratiche particolari di culto, anche se raccomanda la meditazione ed il vegetarianismo: ci deve essere coerenza fra pensieri, parole e azioni, e vivere sulla base degli universali valori umani di Verità, Rettitudine, Pace, Amore e Non-violenza ;
“Il senso morale si acquisisce col controllo dei sensi. Può controllare gli altri solo chi sa controllare se stesso. Come può una persona obbligare altri alla disciplina se essa stessa non è disciplinata? Solo quando c’è armonia fra parola e azione si possono raggiungere grandi cose nella vita.
L’UOMO CHE PRATICA CIÒ CHE PREDICA
NON È UN UOMO ORDINARIO, BENSÌ UNMAHATMA,
UN GRAND’UOMO.
DEDICATEVI ALL’AMORE.
L’UOMO CHE PARLA IN UN MODO E AGISCE IN UN ALTRO
È SOLO UNA BESTIA, NON UN ESSERE UMANO.
Nella società moderna non esiste coerenza fra parola e azione. L’armonia fra parola ed azione è Verità. L’armonia fra pensiero, parola ed azione è Perfezione divina.”
“Il vero valore umano è la purezza con la quale usiamo gli strumenti della Verità, Rettitudine, Pace e Amore. Le parole non fanno i Valori Umani. Esprimete il vostro pensiero, ma poi mettete in pratica quanto avete pensato e detto. In questo sta la purezza dei tre strumenti (corpo, mente, parola), che sorreggono la natura umana. Ma non è tanto facile trovare questa purezza. Si pensa in un modo, si parla in un altro e si agisce in un altro ancora. Per raggiungere il sacro stato della Divinità, dovrete comprendere l’Unità nella sua giusta prospettiva.”
Raccomanda vivamente le attività di servizio: mani che aiutano sono più sacre di bocche che pregano!
“Santificate il vostro tempo, ripetendo il Nome del Signore. Santificate il vostro corpo, mettendovi al servizio degli altri. Aprite sempre più il vostro cuore ai bisogni del mondo, desiderando il bene di tutti, il benessere del mondo. Soltanto allora potrete avere la triplice purezza della mente, della parola e del corpo, il solo tipo di purezza che predispone il terreno al raggiungimento di Dio. Abituatevi a recitare incessantemente il Suo Nome. Non sprecate il vostro tempo in cose inutili: il tempo è veramente la forma di Dio. A seconda delle vostre possibilità dedicatevi ad attività di utilità comune. Non c’è una disciplina spirituale più elevata di questa. Nessun culto è più sacro di questo. Niente regge al suo paragone.”
“Il servizio è fondamentalmente una parte integrante della vita umana: non comprenderne l’importanza equivarrebbe a sprecarla. Questo tipo di servizio non ha bisogno di denaro né di cose materiali e sarebbe una pura perdita di tempo qualora fosse privo d’amore. È di amore che hanno bisogno i vostri cuori! La coscienza che si riscontra nella Natura non si estingue mai: se si combina con l’egoismo, si deforma, se invece si combina con lo Spirito, ne viene santificata.”
Ha realizzato innumerevoli opere per il benessere della popolazione, dalle scuole agli ospedali, tutti gratuiti; afferma: la Mia vita è il Mio messaggio!
Questo è il Super Speciality Hospital aperto da anni a Puttaparti, uno dei più moderni ed attrezzati dell’India, e dove le operazioni di cardiochirurgia sono eseguite gratuitamente.
Questo è il Super Speciality Hospital che verrà aperto a gennaio 2001: il costo è di circa 3 miliardi di rupie. Le sue 8-10 sale operatorie garantiranno dalle 30 alle 40 operazioni di cardiochirurgia al giorno.
Si definisce l’Avatar della nostra era, cioè l’incarnazione di Dio in terra, e come tale è ritenuto dai suoi devoti!
“Il motivo per cui un Avatar discende sulla Terra, si chiami Rama o Kurma . È l’Amore. Ogni Incarnazione Divina viene per insegnare l’Amore agli uomini. Vi affliggono tanti mali perché siete egoisti e non sapete amare. Abituatevi al sacrificio, imparate ad amare, altrimenti avrete solo dei guai. Un uomo senza amore é un cadavere ambulante. La divinità dell’uomo può emergere solo dal sacrificio. Ricordate che l’Amore è la sola ricompensa dell’Amore, l’Amore è testimone dell’Amore. L’Amore è un sentimento completo, ampio, espansivo, attivo, senza incertezze, senza egoismi, senza paure ... e gli Avatar vengono sulla terra per insegnare agli uomini questo Amore di natura divina.”
Imparare a leggere l’Ambiguità
Domus - Ci aiuteranno S. Freud, G. Jung e W. Raich, e altri maestri sincretici
Scuola e Propaganda sono due facce della stessa medaglia, come l’energia atomica o le bibbie, possono venir utilizzate per liberare/realizzare l’uomo o per renderlo schiavo, ovvero per concentrare il potere nelle mani di pochi eletti illuminati. Così i sindacati, i partiti, le chiese, i mercati, gli eserciti, gli ospedali, i media. Jesus e l’Inquisitore di Dostoeskij ripropongono le due prospettive senza pre-giudizio.
È indubbio che ogni essere vivente, nella sua totalità, presenta almeno due prospettive opposte: il sostegno (alimentazione) alla Vita e il contrasto (evacuazione/epurazione) alla Vita.
Che gli umani abbiano difetti oltre che pregi è descritto dall’antico binomio: Vizi-Virtù.
Bisogna rammentare che a tale gioco non sfuggono le organizzazioni e l’inconscio vendicativo e ribelle degli uomini. È indubbio che alcune organizzazioni placano l’anima di molti e nello stesso tempo non soddisfano altri che pertanto, si volgeranno altrove. Se questi ne sono colpiti a livello inconscio, essi si irritano e danno sfogo alle loro passioni latenti (ira, invidia, odio, ecc.) in forme +/- consapevoli di battaglia. Un Sai Baba può soddisfare alcuni ed irritare altri, così la chiesa Cattolica, i Pentecostali, i Tribali, S. Francesco d’Assisi o un S. Paolo, le accuse a Padre Pio?. chi può dire di conoscere la totalità di un’essere? Anche un Avatar, un santo, può avere lati umani ancora da smussare che prendono talvolta il sopravvento poiché sono essi immersi nel mondo, (un esempio sono le antiche democrazie pitagoriche della magna grecia), giusto se diventa Asceta-Eremita allora lontano nel deserto o dentro una grotta, confronterà le sue paure e le sue passioni con la natura visibile e invisibile che lo circonda.. diceva Yogananda una volta a chi gli chiedeva che cosa ne pensasse di Osho Rajneesh: lui è li, io sono qui, come posso conoscere la totalità della sua interazione anima-mondo? Poi chi si rivolge o è attratto da lui? Chi ne prova repulsione? Tante domande ma una sola risposta: l’ambiguità, la dualità, la compresenza di vizi e virtù. Freud descrisse bene i meccanismi della Libido (da cui nacque non a caso la magnetica psicoanalisi), quella forza sessuale, chiamata altrove Kundalini, Eros, che potente, nella vita, gioca un ruolo centrale in ogni trasformazione psicofisica o esperienza dello spirito, è incontrollata, critica o cronica, delicata la sua gestione, ben lo sa Muktananda, Meher Baba, Don Juan, i preti cattolici, gli eremiti, i baul, pastori, i carcerati, ecc., non è facile gestire il tuono, l’orixas, lo spirito, poiché spesso è lui a gestire i suoi medium, apparecchi, in un rapimento mistico, che laddove l’apparecchio non è totalmente puro, diviene commisto di elementi passionali terreni, umani, pertanto si può solo lavorar con pratiche di limpeza, di purificazione dello strumento e/o, chiedere con la preghiera la bontà del dono di grazia.
Oggetto: SATHYA SAI BABA: IL BUONO, IL CATTIVO E IL DISGUSTOSO
Inserito su: soc.culture.tamil dall’ex-studente Meenakshi Srikanth nel 1993 dopo il fallito tentativo di omicidio da parte di alcuni studenti
Meenakshi scrive:
Quanto segue è una cronaca delle mie esperienze presso l’Istituto Sri Sathya Sai di Istruzione Superiore (sezione di Whitefield). Avete la mia parola sull’autenticità di questo articolo, che non intende esprimere alcun giudizio sulla personalità in considerazione. Meenakshi avverte che queste informazioni possono essere scioccanti.
IL BUONO: Un eccellente oratore in telegu; non ha nessun filosofia radicalmente nuova; predica con efficacia gli antichi valori. Molti seguaci tentano di mettere in pratica questi ideali; e vi sono numerosi programmi benefici organizzati in suo nome.
IL CATTIVO: Come ottiene tanto seguito? “Miracoli”. Pochi giorni dopo il mio ingresso nel college, durante il darshan, Swami stava casualmente parlando del potere della meditazione o qualcosa di simile, quando ad un tratto egli ha roteato le mani nell’aria e ha prodotto un ciondolo con una bella immagine del Signore Muruga. Io ero allibito. Non avevo mai visto niente di simile prima. Io non ero un devoto quando sono entrato nel college (mio padre mi aveva chiesto di farlo), per cui questa era una cosa che mi aveva realmente scioccato. Sono tornato all’ostello tessendo con eloquenza gli elogi del potere di Swami ad alcuni dei miei compagni anziani.
Essi hanno fatto un cenno di saggezza col capo ed hanno sorriso enigmaticamente. Non è passato molto tempo prima che uno di loro mi chiamasse da parte e dicesse “Non cominciare a credere a tutta questa roba. Non ci vuole molto a diventare un devoto ma ci vuole tanto per venirne fuori”. Nel dire questo, uno di loro ha roteato la mano e ha prodotto della vibhuti ed un altro ha prodotto un anello. Quindi mi hanno raccontato tutto.
La semplicità di questa cosa vi lascerà di stucco, quindi siate preparati ad una dimostrazione della credulità dell’uomo comune.
Swami produce oggetti “dal nulla” roteando alcune volte il palmo della mano destra rivolto a terra, parallelo al terreno. Egli poi compie un improvviso gesto verso l’alto (come se raccogliesse un frutto dal basso) e presenta ciò che ha prodotto. Il meccanismo per farlo è semplice. Quando esce dal mandir, la sua mano sinistra terrà un fazzoletto, o delle lettere, o la sua veste fluente.
Non guardate la sua faccia sorridente, o la sua mano destra che ruota, o i suoi capelli sovrabbondanti. Guardate la sua mano sinistra: stretto all’interno del palmo tra (soprattutto) il dito medio, l’anulare ed il mignolo c’è l’oggetto che egli sta per produrre in quella occasione. Palline di vibhuti (quelli tra di voi che l’hanno visto produrre vibhuti ricorderanno che egli esegue un azione di sbriciolamento con le dita, quando la dà al devoto), anelli o altro. Basta continuare a guardare questa mano. Ci sarà un momento in cui un devoto si prostrerà ai suoi piedi o si sporgerà in avanti. In quel momento l’oggetto verrà trasferito dalla mano sinistra alla destra. Anche questo può essere visto (se state cercando di vederlo!). Pochissimo tempo dopo avverrà la “materializzazione”.
Certo, quindi voi pensate che questo metodo sia talmente stupido che anche una capra se ne sarebbe accorta, ormai. Lasciate che vi dica qualcosa, provate ad esercitarvi a farlo solo qualche volta. Poi provatelo sui vostri amici. Sarete sorpresi della loro sorpresa. Io ormai sono capace di farlo facilmente ed ho ingannato molti dei miei amici. Solo che io non mi definisco Dio e non ho VIP che cadono ai miei piedi.
Ho visto queste cose accadere centinaia di volte. Io stesso ho ricevuto vibhuti, laddu (un dolce) e cose simili. Nel nostro ostello c’era un gruppo che sapeva tutto di questi trucchi. Stavamo un sacco di tempo in attesa del darshan e, di solito, condividevamo le divertenti esperienze dopo che lo show era terminato.
Una volta, Swami era fuori dal mandir e stava raccogliendo le lettere. Egli aveva in mano un piccolo ciondolo d’argento che tutti noi avevamo visto quando ci aveva oltrepassati. Lo aveva trasferito nella mano destra e stava solo aspettando qualcuno a cui darlo quando un devoto da un fila dietro gli allungò una lettera. Swami si portò in avanti ed aprì il palmo della sua mano destra per riceverla. Era un bel mattino di Bangalore, il sole splendeva ed il ciondolo nella sua mano brillava alla vista di tutti! Noi siamo rimasti sconcertati per un secondo e, sopprimendo una risata pronta ad esplodere, abbiamo guardato altrove. Swami andò avanti, imperturbabile, e diede il ciondolo ad un tipo apparentemente importante lunga la fila. Parlammo di questo fatto per una settimana e pensammo addirittura di scrivere a Swami chiedendogli di essere più attento.
In un’altra occasione un cantante venne a Brindavan e noi eravamo nel mandir per sentirlo cantare. Swami volle donargli un orologio che era pronto, sotto la sua coscia, sul divano sul quale egli sedeva. Io sedevo in terza fila davanti a Swami e guardavo “da vicino”. La canzone terminò e Swami si scostò leggermente e l’orologio era ora nella sua mano sinistra. Egli si piegò in avanti e spostò l’orologio nella sua mano destra. Io lo notai e guardai in su e vidi che Swami mi stava guardando! Io diventai rosso ma anche Swami lo diventò! Egli cominciò a vacillare, chiese ad uno degli studenti di cambiare direzione al ventilatore e quando tutti stavano guardando da un’altra parte, rimise l’orologio nella mano sinistra. Ora, lo studente che stava spostando il ventilatore era nervosissimo in quanto si sentiva osservato e, qualsiasi cosa accadde, la presa di corrente cominciò a sparare scintille! Altri studenti sistemarono la cosa ma ormai l’orologio era di nuovo sotto la sua coscia. Quel cantante non lo ebbe quel giorno (mi dispiacque davvero per lui).
Il mattino seguente, durante il darshan, Swami venne vicino a me e, aprendo il suo palmo destro vuoto, mi chiamò “Doubting Thomas!" [Letteralmente "Thomas il dubbioso!". San Tommaso era il discepolo di Gesù, famoso perché dubitava di tutto, NdT]. Avrei voluto potergli chiedere di aprire il palmo sinistro, dato che sapevo c’era qualcosa lì.
Bene, ora questo sembra divertente, ma allora ebbi molta paura e gli scrissi una lettera piena di scuse!
Ci sono ancora un paio di trucchi standard che egli esegue. Durante la festa di Dussehra, egli esegue una Vibhuthi Abhishek di Shirdi Sai Baba. Prende un piccolo vaso, lo rovescia e mostra che dentro non c’è nulla. Dopodiché infila le sue mani nel vaso e la vibhuti inizia a fuoriuscire. Anche una capra, con una mente razionale, si farebbe un’idea di ciò che sta facendo. Prendete un vaso, riempitelo di vibuthi e solidificatela con dell’acqua e lasciatela stare. Finché non la toccate, niente uscirà dal vaso.
Un’altra cosa che era solito fare era materializzare il lingam. Egli lo fa tramite rigurgitazione (si!). Egli esegue movimenti come se stesse cercando di espellerlo e improvvisamente eccolo uscire dalla sua bocca. Troverete abbondanza di questi lingam visitando il museo a Puttaparthi. Il modo in cui lo fa è altresì semplice. C’è sempre un coda di attendenti fidati (polizia segreta?) che stanno al suo fianco e gli passano fazzoletti bianchi nei quali egli può mettere il lingam che “appare”.
Il lingam stesso perviene a Sai Baba dentro uno di questi fazzoletti e tutto ciò che egli deve fare è portarselo alla bocca ed eseguire un movimento come se il lingam cadesse dalla bocca nel fazzoletto. Io non l’ho visto personalmente (non lo esegue più) ma ho visto alcuni filmati di questo evento. La mia opinione è che, una volta scoperto che uno solo di questi miracolo è un trucco, il resto non richiede più alcuna prova.
Accade sempre che alcuni studenti nel college conoscano queste cose e vivano una vita di devozione forzata e falsi pretesti. Devono farlo perché se non lo facessero la vita potrebbe diventare molto sgradevole. I genitori della maggior parte di questi studenti sono devoti molto ferventi, le cui vite sono definite dalla loro devozione a Swami. Sarebbe impossibile convincerli che Swami non è ciò che pensano ma solo un ciarlatano dozzinale che esegue trucchi popolari.
Le vite di questi studenti sono davvero dolorose. Essi vivono costantemente una vita da Jeckyll e Hyde nella quale non c’è tregua. Ma le vite di alcuni studenti sono ancor più orribili.
IL DISGUSTOSO: Non ho esperienze personali di queste cose (grazie al cielo!). Ma so che ciò che sto per scrivere è vero al 100% perché ho sentito racconti diretti di queste cose bizzarre. Ho avuto sufficienti prove circostanziali di questi racconti da testimoni, per cui non esito a dire che ciò che segue è vero.
Come posso iniziare a raccontartelo, gentile lettore? Nei miei primissimi giorni al nostro ostello, ebbi la netta impressione che qualcosa di disgustoso stesse avvenendo e che tutti sapessero ma nessuno ne volesse parlare. Ogni volta che Swami veniva a Bangalore c’erano sempre alcuni studenti che avevano l’udienza ogni giorno.
Questi studenti erano spesso indicati come coloro che erano “in form” (un’analogia col cricket) con Swami. Questi studenti erano tra i più privilegiati nell’ostello. Essi potevano uscire dall’ostello (uno studente può farlo solo durante le vacanze) a loro piacimento e potevano comportarsi in modo particolare. I rettori e gli oratori erano soliti consultarsi con loro prima di fare qualunque cosa significativa nell’ostello. Questi studenti stavano tra di loro per la maggior parte del tempo. Io avevo i miei problemi e non li osservavo molto da vicino, sebbene fossi curioso.
Quando venni a sapere le cose su Swami dai miei colleghi anziani, essi mi chiesero se non avevo notato nulla di strano circa l’ostello. Io glielo dissi. Essi sorrisero e mi chiesero di tenere gli occhi aperti, promettendomi che presto mi avrebbero detto ogni cosa. Non mi ci volle molto tempo per capire cosa c’era di diverso in quegli studenti. Essi erano tutti omosessuali. Ora, abbassa gentilmente quelle tue palpebre spalancate, mio caro lettore. C’era ogni indicazione, linguaggi corporei, particolari battute circa mariti e mogli, ecc. e non c’era bisogno di essere un segugio per indovinare ciò che stava accadendo. Lo dissi agli anziani e ciò che loro mi dissero era quanto meno terribile.
Molti di questi studenti venivano resi gay (“sodomizzati” sarebbe un parola grossolana) da Swami, il quale è egli stesso un gay. (!)
Quando me lo dissero io non volli crederci. Ma non molto tempo dopo ascoltai le esperienze narrate dagli stessi studenti che avevano subito il trauma. Ora, accadde che una coppia di questi studenti erano dei Tamil dei quali divenni molto presto amico.
Uno di loro era solito raccontarmi storie strazianti. Quando Swami era a Brindavan, questo ragazzo di solito veniva chiamato per l’udienza almeno una volta ogni tre giorni. Mentre di solito uno studente, quando viene chiamato, è così esultante e compiaciuto del fatto che Swami ha riconosciuto la sua devozione ecc. questo ragazzo, chiamiamolo Nandan, aveva sempre una faccia torva mentre si dirigeva verso la residenza. Egli non seguiva mai i corsi nei giorni in cui aveva una avuto un’udienza. Lo avevo visto spesso mostrare dei segni sul petto e sul collo ed imprecare in slang. Nandan spesso riceveva in pubblico da Swami delle buste e a volte gli veniva chiesto di aprirle. Contenevano sonanti banconote da cento rupie.
C’è un’altra definizione adatta al dare del denaro per tali atti. Nandan era disperato. Non avrebbe potuto andare a casa e lamentarsi. La sua famiglia ed i suoi genitori erano tutti devoti da 30 anni e le loro vite erano tutte centrate intorno a Baba. Da quando aveva conosciuto il mondo, Nandan aveva conosciuto Swami e nessun altro come dio. Swami lo aveva iniziato a questo quando era ancora a scuola. Swami gli disse che lui (Swami) era l’unico purusha al mondo e che il mondo intero era sua moglie. A Nandan venne chiesto di pensare a sé stesso come a Radha devota a Krishna.
L’atteggiamento di Nandan verso la vita è ormai irrimediabilmente cambiato. C’era un altro ragazzo, diciamo Kumar, che era stato chiamato in udienza la prima volta. Era così esultante. Quel pomeriggio, un gruppo di noi andò da lui (egli era il più piccolo) e gli chiese che cosa fosse successo. Egli aveva uno sguardo beato in viso, quando ce lo disse. "Swami mi ha chiesto se avevo mal di stomaco. Io ho detto che, per grazia di Swami, non lo avevo. Swami ha riso e ha detto: “Perché devi nasconderti da me? Dimmi, hai mal di stomaco?”. Non so perché ma ho detto sì. Swami ha detto che mi avrebbe curato ed ha prodotto dell’olio di andalo dal nulla e lo ha massaggiato sul mio stomaco e più giù. Non dimenticherò mai quell’esperienza". Non avevamo bisogno di tali prove, comunque. Era sempre così ovvio. Battute a doppio senso (si!), buffetti sulle guance, pizzicotti agli studenti. Egli aveva l’orribile abitudine di infilare la mano dentro le tasche della camicia e di pizzicare il petto.
Gli studenti che entravano nelle sabbie mobili della distruzione, di loro iniziativa oppure no, conducevano una vita indicibile. Gli studenti devoti ne avevano timore e gli studenti che sapevano della “storia” li disprezzavano o li compativano. E per loro non c’era rivalsa.
Alcuni studenti arrivarono pericolosamente vicini ad un tale destino e scapparono. Un mio amico, chiamiamolo Ramanan, era ai primi posti della lista quando intelligentemente se ne accorse e si mise fuori portata non partecipando più ai bhajans o nascondendosi nelle ultime file ecc. Ci fu un momento nel quale anche io ero ai primi posti ma i miei angeli custodi intervennero sotto forma di una vacanza estiva.
Verso la fine della mia residenza laggiù, il disagio stava solo iniziando a diffondersi. Io ero a Bangalore. A Puttaparthi (dove eravamo soliti andare circa 5 volte l’anno) le cose erano molto peggiori. Ho sentito dire che uno studente su dieci è omosessuale per intervento diretto di Sai Baba o per interposta persona. L’atmosfera, un luogo di soli maschi senza alcuna esposizione al mondo esterno per un prolungato periodo dell’adolescenza, non può che condurre a un tale risultato.
Questa, a mio parere, ò la parte più disgustosa di Swami. Noi eravamo soliti divulgare le informazioni riguardo Swami ai più piccoli (il “battesimo”) e molte volte ci siamo chiesti, tra di noi, se questo fosse consigliabile oppure no. Io ho sempre detto che doveva essere fatto, se non altro per far loro realizzare questo lato disgustoso.