IN HIS FOOTSTEPS

[Guest guest]

(article extracted from Santhana Sarathi 1974)

 

Dear Reader,Here is a beautiful description of Darshan in the old Brindavan days…..

Master, go on, and I will follow Thee,To the last breath, in truth and loyalty.

It is time! Baba enters the private room of His residence. It is Darshan time in

Brindavan! He will soon emerge out of the room and walk towards the gate,

outside which have gathered hundreds of devotees, seated on the ground, tensely

expectant, silent, and each one full of intense hope that Bhagavan will have a

special word of solace... perhaps bestow on them some gesture of love and

compassion... or even the much coveted Interview!

The main gate is opened by a couple of volunteers. Baba comes out, a radiant

smile on His handsome face. His light shaded red robe and His magnificent hair

shine as if some divine, effulgent light is falling upon His exquisitely

charming, slim figure. He stands outside the gate for a moment and casts His

eyes on the large crowd of men, women and children. They have come from all

parts of India and many from abroad. Baba's gaze has an electrifying effect

upon them. One seems to be merged with some supreme power, a Mahashakti. The

whole atmosphere is charged with love, Prema. Baba is compassion personified.

As He stands there surveying the devotees for a few minutes, His hands make a

few significant gestures perhaps of encouragement, solace and benediction. For

Baba knows each individual among the crowd. He can probe into each person's

inner depths, understand each devotee’s needs and problems.

He is now moving towards the devotees seated in long, almost interminable lines

- ¬men on one side and women on the other. A lady suddenly gets up and

approaches Him, and in a voice trembling with some deep agony oppressing her

heart, whispers a few words to this incarnation of the Divine, who is now

amongst us, to fulfill the solemn assurance He had given ages ago, to Arjuna on

the tumultuous battlefield of Kurukshetra:

Whenever there is decay of Dharma and rise of Adharma.O, Bharat, then I embody Myself age after age.

He listens to the lady. He knows what is troubling her. At once, He stretches

slightly His right hand, makes a brief rotating movement with the hand and a

small quantity of sacred Vibhuti appears. He pours it into the woman's palm...

there are tears in her eyes, not of sorrow, but of a deep satisfaction, Ananda.

His divine touch on her head has expelled all her doubts and fears. They are

tears of gratitude, of love.

A few steps.... under the shade of the tree near the gate, He sees a sick child

crippled by some disease. He makes a beeline towards the child. The parents and

other members of the family gather around him. Baba knows exactly what is wrong

with the child. He is an Avatar—omnipotent and omniscient. Men must work out

their Karma, but the Lord's grace is even more powerful. He knows best what to

do in each case of suffering. His compassion can dissolve the effects of Karma,

mitigate its rigours. Baba soothes the parents and relatives of the child by a

few encouraging words, pats the child's head and, mystery of mysteries, He

tells the parents all about the child's illness, again materialises the sacred

Vibhuti and applies it lovingly to the child's limbs. The gloom that has

enveloped the child's parents vanishes. Baba has been the bringer of a new

hope, a strengthened faith in a power that is beyond our petty calculations.

The Veda describes the Supreme

as "Aprapya Manasasaha", beyond the utmost bounds of human intelligence and logic.

"God moving among men”, I hear someone whisper to His neighbour. As he says

these words, his eyes moisten. A flickering conviction, perhaps, but at the

moment in Baba's presence, he is deeply moved. And so are hundreds of others.

In Baba's mere presence, the atmosphere becomes instantaneously charged with a

light and splendour "that never was on sea or land”, a glory which can hardly

be described in human speech. As He moves along between the two rows of

devotees, many make desperate attempts to catch His eye or attract His

attention. Eager, tear-filled eyes, faces drawn with pain, some nameless

anxiety or fear, broken hearts, frustrated personalities, men and women

groaning under the heavy burden of worldly cares and problems, guilt conscious

persons seeking divine forgiveness, aspirants of the spirit in search of a

supremely self realised being... others, anxious for some token of compassion

and still others in grave need of some earthly benefit;

they are all there.

The Gita speaks of four kinds of Bhaktas; arto, jijnasur, artharthi, and Jnani -

the man in distress, the man seeking knowledge, the man seeking wealth and the

man imbued with wisdom. All these types are here and many more, the derelicts

and the abandoned... sometimes those who come to see Baba merely out of

curiosity ....skeptics and atheists, wanderers who have assumed the garb of

Sannyasis to maintain themselves without work, the waifs and strays of the

world. He sometimes reveals an uncanny understanding of those who somehow do

not fit themselves into the atmosphere of the place.

All eyes are focused on the slim, radiant, beloved figure. With folded hands

they gaze into His eyes. He stops, before a group; the miracle of the sacred

Vibhuti is repea¬ted. His eyes soften with deep compassion as some old lady

attempts to touch His Feet. "No, Bangaroo,” He tells her. Bangaroo is a

favourite word of affection with Baba. As He utters it to a devotee, it opens

out unlimited realms of divine solicitude for the smallest of His devotees. It

is the "open sesame" that opens the doors of one's heart; its sweetness lingers

in the heart for days, it vibrates and reverberates in one's soul. Bangaroo is a

Telugu word meaning "gold”. When I first heard it addressed to me, many years

ago, I felt as if I was lifted to the heavens. It has continued to haunt me,

and whenever Baba utters the magic word to me, I am filled with joy and peace

which seem to have no bounds. Attuned, Baba stands perfectly still, deeply

absorbed in Himself. He brings to my

mind the figure of the Supreme Yogi—untouched by the waves of this worldly

ocean. Only He knows what He is thinking about—the past, present and future of

creation, and perhaps, His long, unbroken lineage of Himself from generation to

generation: "Many are the births taken by me and you, O Arjuna. I know them all

while you know not, O Parantapa.” These are the words of Krishna in the Gita.

Baba is the consciousness that abides in eternity, a consciousness not erased or

fragmented by the endless passage of eons, a consciousness that survives the

universe's cataclysms and transformations. He is the ONE that remains while the

many change and pass.

He walks sometimes briskly, hardly noticing the crowd, silent, detached, not

even a smile at them. Not that He is indifferent. He knows when He should speak

to a particular devotee. His blessings are there—an integral, inseparable part

of His Darshan. Through unheard spiritual vibrations, unuttered words, Baba can

bring about a silent transformation among the people. His very presence is a

perpetual blessing. "When I first saw Him,” said an American devotee to me, "I

was thrilled and uplifted beyond my wildest expectations." The Divine's ways

are always unpredictable. God is inscrutable. He moves in a mysterious way to

perform His wonders. Divine Love transcends the ups and downs, the vicissitudes

of human behaviour. There, certainly, is a hidden purpose in Bhagavan's ways.

His Prema is inexhaustible. One of His most moving declarations is that though

men disregard Him, look upon Him with doubt, are ungrateful and do not

recognise Him, His care, love

and solicitude will never abate.

Many offer garlands to Him, or other things. They beseech Him for autographs.

Sometimes if the devotee is lucky, the offerings are touched and given back.

Flower garlands are invariably flung with an enchanting smile towards the

devotee. "Not for you only,” He adds mischievously, "share the flowers with

others." There are a couple of young men dressed flamboyantly, with hang hair

and "side burns”, typical products of our decadent, hybrid culture. Baba has no

patience with such youthful aberrations. He speaks sternly to them. Some bring

gifts to him. “I do not want your offerings,” He gently reprimands them, "offer

your heart's purity to me. That is enough for me." He often tells people that He

is not a ‘taker’ but a ‘giver’. He is a veritable Kalpavriksha—the divine tree

of wish fulfillment. His generosity is as vast as the ocean.

Baba's humour is sparkling. I remember when a lady complained to Baba about her

son’s poor progress at school, Baba without batting an eye lid told her, "Then

the best thing is to attend school yourself." His jokes do not hurt. Nobody is

happier than those of whom He sometimes makes fun. Baba's humour is like the

soft dimples of light that appear on the surface of a stream or river when the

morning sun shines upon it. His humour has a radiance which belongs to soft and

fragrant rose petals, the iridescent rainbow which spans the sky, the cool

showers of summer, the heart warming smile of a child, the enchanting notes of

bird song... He is not always soft and gentle. When He sees among the crowd

someone who has cried and had been forgiven and still continues to be

refractory, His reprimand acquires a sudden sharpness. Even the harshness is

part of His Divine Mission, His ceaseless solicitude for His devotees. At such

times, He is hard as a diamond, yet

basically compassionate and understanding; Vajradapi kathorani, mridunam

kusumadapi. "Hard as a diamond soft as a flower".

Baba loves children. They sometimes break loose from their mothers or fathers

and rush to Baba with a flower or a photograph to be autographed. Baba is

always affectionate towards them. He pats them on their backs, and I have seen

Him giving them sweets which just happen to be in His palm at the moment! He

does not mind children prostrating themselves before Him although He is

distinctly averse to Padanamaskars by the adults when He moves among a crowd of

devotees. This hampers His progress and disturbs Him when he is engaged in some

serious conversation with a devotee. He performs Aksharabhyasa for the

children, by writing the sacred syllable "OM" on the slate brought by the child

and guiding the little hands of the child gently and lovingly over the letter.

When old devotees come, He enquires about their welfare and sometimes calls them

for an Interview inside His residence. He has a soft corner for such devotees as

have travelled long distances for His Darshans. He asks them to come and stand

before the Interview room in groups, talks to them at length and sends them

away with Prasad. Baba loves people who are guileless and unsophisticated.

These "Interviews" (a word which cannot adequately convey what is really a deep

communion between the Lord and His Bhaktas) whether in Brindavan or at Prashanti

Nilayam are tremendously significant.

To the devotee it is a real "red-letter day" when he is face to face with the

Divine. To be in the immediate presence of Baba, to pour out the deepest

feelings of one's heart, to bathe in the aura of His Divine Love, is indeed a

rare experience. It is a moment of rebirth of the spirit, a miraculous

transformation for the individual. He who keeps up in his deepest being the

memory of these precious minutes is indeed blessed. There is an expansion of

consciousness, a resurgence of purest love, a clear awareness of the abiding

values of life as the devotee stands in the Divine Presence, an intimate

rapport with the deepest and most divine part of oneself. A spiritual

"explosion" to use St. Martin's words, takes place, when our natural will is

for a moment dispersed and annihilated by contact with the divine.

It is time to return to His residence. His return is a little tumultuous, the

crowd eager to come closer to Him. The lines are broken, and many people rush

toward Him. They know He is going back; they too must return home. When comes

another chance? They want to touch Baba's Feet, do Padanamaskar, prostration at

His Holy Feet. To an Indian devotee the touch of the Feet of the Guru is an act

of absolute surrender. There is a little confusion. Volunteers have to be

vigilant; otherwise Baba would find it difficult to extricate Himself from

these numerous suppliants of His grace and blessings.

Now He enters the gate, quickly turns to the left and walks along the narrow

path between the rose garden, and the bougainvillea hedge towards the Interview

room. On the verandah outside are seated those whose stricken minds and

sorrowful hearts await the touch of the divine healing balm of Baba's Love and

understanding. Baba softly opens the door, enters, and beckons the devotees....

So He accomplishes His Divine Ministry day after day, wherever He is.

Sent by: Ram.Chugani Kobe.

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