A GUIDING FORCE

The Mother visited Bodh Gaya at the end of March 1890. On that occasion the contrast between the wealth of the monastery there on the one hand, and on the other the absence of any permanent residence, the indescribable want of food and raiment, and the hard physical labour for running the monastery on the part of her world-renouncing sons, moved very much the Mother of the Order. She said subsequently, ‘Ah! For this, how I shed tears and prayed to the Master! And only then, through his grace has come into existence today the Math (monastery). When the Master left his body, the boys gave up the world and gathered together round a (rented) shelter for some days. Then they scattered about independently and went on roaming about here and there. Then I felt intensely sad and prayed thus to the Master, “Master, you came, played and disported with these few and then went away; and should everything end with that? If so, where was the need for coming down in the midst of so much sorrow? I have seen in Banaras and Vrindaban many holy men who get their food by begging and shifting their ‘residence’ from the shadow of one tree to that of another. There’s no dearth of holy men of that type. I shan’t be able to bear the sight of my sons, who come out in your name, going about begging for food. My prayer is that those who leave the world in your name may never be in need of bare subsistence. They will all live together holding to your ideas and ideals; and the people afflicted with the worries of the world will resort to them and be solaced by hearing about you. That’s why you came. My heart is pained to see them wandering about.” After that, Naren (Swami Vivekananda) began gradually building up all this.’

Every sentence here reveals her infinite motherly love and solicitude for the Order, her firm grasp of and conviction about the uniqueness of the Master’s message and its future possibilities and her earnestness for having a permanent habitation for her children. These hopes and desires were not mere idle fancies of her mind; as long as she was on this earth, she did her utmost to see the Order well established and ably managed. Love, according to her, was the life-force of the Order. As every member thereof looked up to her for her benign blessing, so also she wanted each of its units to be tied to others by the bond of affection, so that a solid brotherhood might emerge defying all disruptive tendencies. The head of the Koalpara Ashrama expected work from the Brahmacharis under him; but in return he showed neither active love for them, nor concern for their welfare; and there was no proper arrangement for their food and clothing. The result was that many left the Ashrama to live with the Mother or with Swami Saradananda. Still the head did not mend his ways; on the contrary he approached the Mother in a mood of wounded justice and said, ‘Mother, formerly they were all very obedient; now they have their eyes opened, they are not always willing to continue under my control. Besides, if they go either to Sarat Maharaj (Swami Saradananda) or yourself, you keep them with love and care, and they get advantage of better food. If you don’t keep them, but explain things to them and send them back to me, then they will be obedient to me.’ Amazed at such a talk, the Holy Mother, love incarnate as she was, said, ‘How is that so? What’s all this you are talking about? Love is our forte. It’s through love that the Master’s family has taken shape. And I am a mother; how could you talk to me twittingly about the food and clothing of my sons?’

The head of the Ashrama did not take adequate care of even the health of the inmates, though they suffered from malaria. When the Mother came to know of this, she had nourishing food arranged for them She also expressed her disapproval of the authoritarianism of the head by saying, ‘How so, my boy? If you go on exercising authority in this way, with diplomacy at the back of your mind, how can the Ashrama go on? May be, the boys are all your pupils, yet even if one scolds one’s own son, excess of it results in separation.’

The Mother had the greatest affection for the head, and he too was profoundly devoted to her; but that was no reason why she should wink at callousness. When the Mother was at the Koalpara Ashrama with Radhu, the head informed the Mother one day that the Brahmacharis did not want to stay there, and that they had left for other places, and so the Mother should make it impossible for them to find shelter anywhere else and thus compel them to stay at Koalpara to serve the Mother. This suggestion enraged her and she said, ‘What would you have me say to them? Do you expect me to tell them that they shall not find quarters anywhere? They are my sons, and have come to the Master; the Master will look after them wherever they may be. And you would have me say that they shall be refused accommodation everywhere. I shall never say that. ’ All became awed at the Mother’s flushed face and loud voice. The devoted head at once fell at her feet and begged for mercy.

Though the Mother corrected the head when the need arose, she also advised the inmates to be disciplined and forbearing. A few days earlier than the incident related above, she said to a Brahmachari, ‘Look here, every one has to be accommodating. The Master used to say, “sha, sha, sa”1. Forbear everything. He is there to judge.’ In spite of the numerous inconveniences of a corporate life, she advised the monks to live unitedly in the Ashramas and such other places and work there.

Swamis Vishuddhananda,

Shantananda, and Girijananda left home through extreme dislike for the world and walked from Calcutta to Jayrambati. They, and particularly Swami Vishuddhananda, wished with the Mother’s blessing to become itinerant monks, spending the rest of their lives outside Ashramas in austerity at holy places. The Mother welcomed them affectionately, heard them attentively, and fed them with tender care. Next morning she said, ‘Shave your heads today and have your clothes coloured with ochre; I shall sanction your Sannyasa (formal renunciation) tomorrow.’ Next day (July 29, 1907) she handed over to each of them his ochre garment and prayed to the Master, ‘Master, protect their (vow of) renunciation. Wherever they may be—on hills or mountains, in forests or wildernesses—grant them their little sustenance.’ But she did not at all like the idea of their itineration: and hence on the eve of bidding farewell to them she said, ‘There’s no need for you to undergo such hardship. But since you have resolved to be wandering monks, I grant you this much as a last resort—you walk up to Banaras. There I am writing to Tarak (Swami Shivananda); he will accommodate you. Live with him to build up your life of monasticism. Also take your monastic names from him’ Accordingly, they started for Banaras. The Mother accompanied them to the border of the village and there bade adieu with tearful eyes. When they reached Banaras, Swami Shivananda did as he was directed.

We now come to an event in April 1911, when a monk was staying at the ‘Udbodhan’ after committing a serious offence. Revered Swami Brahmananda and other aged monks wanted him to leave the ‘Udbodhan’ and go to the Belur Math. But he was loth to comply. About him Swami Saradananda one day submitted to the Mother, ‘Should Maharaj’s (Swami Brahmananda’s) words, our words be totally ignored? Let him go to the Math for at least a couple of days just for the sake of respecting Maharaj’s order.’ A few days later the Mother alluded to this talk and said that she herself had advised him to go to the Math, but with no result. About him she said regretfully, ‘To be sure, it concerns a superior’s command! The truth is, he has no mind to work. Does the mind remain healthy if one doesn’t? Is it possible to do japa and meditation all the twenty-four hours? One should have some other useful engagement. That will keep the mind well.’ But though she tried in vain to change the monk’s mind, she never showed any the less affection for him

A year after this, a son of hers represented that according to some it was not befitting a monk’s life to run hospitals, sell books, keep accounts, etc.; that the Master had done no such thing; that if anyone was in need of engagements one should have recourse to such practices as worship, japa, meditation, and singing the Lord’s name, as all other works would deflect the mind from God. Having heard it all through, the Mother said finally, ‘If you don’t work, with what will you occupy yourself day and night? Is it possible to meditate and make japa all the twenty-four hours? They refer to the Master! He is an exception, and Mathur supplied him his dainty dishes. You get your food just because you have engaged yourself in some work here. Otherwise would you not be moving from door to door for a morsel of rice? Everything shall go on as the Master ordains. The Math will run as it is doing now. Those who can’t put up with this will clear out. ’

During her stay at Banaras in 1912, the Mother remarked while visiting a widow’s home managed by the local

Ramakrishna Mission, ‘By serving these helpless old women one serves Narayana (God) Himself. Ah! What a fine piece of work these boys are doing! ’ And about this same institution she said on another occasion, ‘All this is His wish, my daughter! He knows best how He is getting His plan executed and through what. ’

About japa and meditation she said one day at Jayrambati, ‘How many can carry on japa and meditation all the time? It’s much better to work, keeping the mind fixed and without letting it wander about. The mind creates trouble whenever it is let loose. It’s because Naren realized this that he started selflesss work.’

The Mother had not a shadow of doubt that the Master would work out his new message through his Order. One day a certain head of a monastery regretted before the Mother that owing to the lack of practical public sympathy, the work was not progressing satisfactorily; for our countrymen knew only how to destroy and not how to build. To this the Mother replied with conviction, ‘My son, the Master said, “When the southern breeze blows, all trees that have developed hard-wood get transformed into sandal.” The southern breeze has blown; now all will be turned into sandal—except bamboos and bananas.’ Many problems of the Ashramas and their inmates either came to her notice or were placed before her by others, and in each case she gave advice and suggested remedies. To the charitable dispensary at Koalpara came many patients who had the means to purchase medicines elsewhere. Discovering this, the head of the centre approached the Mother with the request that she might sanction the discontinuance of such practice. But she stretched her vision beyond that of an ordinary mortal and said that any one who came to beg must be considered needy and as such should not be turned out. So the dispensary continued to be open to all.

Before this Ashrama was incorporated into the Ramakrishna Organization, the inmates of the institution had active sympathy for the Swadesi movement, which aimed at bringing the British government to its senses through boycott of foreign goods and patronage of home-made ones. The Mother noticed that their energy was being frittered away by mere talk, and so she said, ‘Look here, don’t you simply move about agitating and shouting “Vande-mataram” (Salutation to the mother country); have looms and weave cloth. I wish I had myself a spinning wheel. Do something constructive.’ And we have mentioned elsewhere how with a view to basing the Ashrama activities on spirituality, she installed there with her own hands the Master as the presiding Deity.

She was also eager to instill into the Brahmacharis of the Ashrama a thirst for knowledge. To those who served her she said one day, ‘Mind you, many devotees will come from foreign lands: you master the English language.’ For this work she first engaged Swami Dharmananda and then Krishnabhusan Babu of Dacca.

She praised work; but then she was not blind to its evil consequences. Some monks start monasteries with the best of motives, but the contact with the world and worldly people often exerts a baneful influence over their minds and diverts them from the path of God. So the Mother said to Swami

Tanmayananda, ‘Should one jump out of a frying pan to enter into the fire! Instead of calling on the Lord after leaving the world one merely occupies oneself with work. An Ashrama is a second household. People leave home for the Ashrama; but they become so much attached that they don’t want to leave an Ashrama. ’

Another point to be noted in the Mother’s life was a charming combination of maternal tenderness with non-attachment. With heart and soul she wished for the good of all her children. Once, at Jayrambati, at the time of the worship of Durga, when all had departed after offering flowers at her sacred feet at the most sacred moment of the juncture of the eighth and ninth days of the moon, the Mother said to a Brahmachari, ‘Bring more flowers, and offer them on behalf of Rakhal, Tarak, Sarat, Khoka (Subodhananda), Yogen (Yogin-Ma), and Golap (Golap-Ma). Offer flowers in the names of all my known and unknown children.’ Accepting the worship, she sat silently for a long time with folded hands before the Master and then prayed, ‘Let all prosper, here and hereafter.’ On another occasion, during her birthday at the ‘Udbodhan’ in 1918, when all went away after adoring her with flowers, she called Brahmachari Varada to herself, blessed him by laying her hand on his head, and then directed him, ‘Offer flowers in the names of all at Jayrambati and Koalpara; for this is a special day.’ When this was done, she prayed to the Master for the weal of all.

Only those with personal experience of that affection will realize how deep and rare it was and through what diverse channels it flowed. Brahmachari Jnan (Swami Jnanananda) suffered at Jayrambati from itches which became so pervasive and painful that he could not eat with his hand; and so the Mother mixed the rice and curries for him and put them morsel by morsel into his mouth. Brahmachari Rashbihari, while busy in connection with the work of the new house of the Mother at Jayrambati, had to go on an errand to a distant village from which he could not return in time for his noon-meal. It was winter when days were short. Returning only a few hours before sunset, he was taken aback to learn that the Mother waited for his return and would not sit for her meal. He remonstrated, ‘Mother, your health is bad, yet why have you kept fasting till this hour?’ The Mother replied, ‘My son, how can I eat so long as you have not done so?’ Rashbihari sat down for his food without further delay; and the Mother and other women, who had been waiting for her, sat only after he had finished. How many mothers are so very considerate for their own children?

Swami Vrajeshwarananda worked heart and soul at the Belur Math and was loved by the older monks. Once it struck him, ‘Instead of gratifying my self-importance in this way by getting the indulgence of the old monks, it is better to go outside to undertake austerity.’ But he knew that he would not get the approval of the Math authorities; and, therefore, he went to Calcutta to obtain the Mother’s sanction. He bowed down before her and opened out his mind. The Mother wanted to know where he would go and whether he had any money with him Vrajeshwarananda said that he was penniless and that he would walk up to Banaras along the Grand Trunk Road. The Mother then said with the tenderest tone.’ This is Kartika (October-

November), (when) people say that all the four doors of Yama (Death) are open. I am a mother; how can I say, “My son, you go”? Moreover, you say, you have nothing with you; who will feed you, my boy, when you are hungry?’ Vrajeshwarananda abandoned his plan.

As misfortune would have it, someone was leaving the Order. As he came to bid farewell, the Mother began to weep and so also did the devotee. A little later she wiped her tears with the edge of her cloth and asked the devotee to wash his face in the bathroom Then she said, ‘Don’t forget me. I know you won’t; still I say so.’ ‘What about you, Mother?’ asked the devotee.’ Can a mother forget?’ replied the Mother, and she added, ‘Believe me I shall ever be with you. Don’t be afraid.’ When the devotee got down on the road, the Mother kept on looking at him from the window till he could be seen no more.

Once the head of the Koalpara Ashrama commented that the boys moved from one monastery to another simply for the sake of good food. Alluding to this the Mother said, ‘Notice what a queer remark it is! Why should my sons, the Master’s sons, lack food? They shall not. I myself prayed to the Master, “O Master, may your sons never suffer for want of food.” And he insinuates that they run about because of their greed!’

Brahmachari Rashbihari reached Jayrambati in 1907 with an extreme repulsion for the world in his heart and with a single piece of cloth round his person. On the way, it did of course occur to him that he should return home to get more clothes; but lest some hindrance should crop up, he preferred to move on without any spare clothes in hand. The Mother received him cordially, gave him another cloth which she asked him to take away when leaving Jayrambati, and she offered to pay him his return fare, which, however, he refused as he had no need of it. At the time of departure the Mother said, ‘Write to me after reaching there;’ and added sorrowfully, ‘I could not feed my son properly. ’

And yet what a number of people were granted Sannyasa, and were thus helped to leave home, by this very softhearted mother! True it is that she did not permit taking Sannyasa indiscriminately; her advice about marriage and celibacy varied according to circumstances. Reading the future of the inquirer with her divine eyes, she said to the monks at times, ‘What a sad lot is that of householders! You’ll now heave a sigh of relief and sleep soundly.’ At other times she said to wavering bachelors, ‘I can’t venture any opinion about that. If you are unhappy after wedlock you’ll say, “Mother, you consented to my marriage.”‘Some devotee would say, ‘Mother, I won’t marry.’ And to this the

Mother might reply with a smile, ‘How is that? All things in the world are arranged in pairs. Look here, for instance, there are two eyes, two ears, two hands, two feet—just so are husband and wife.’ That devotee got wedded. Some one else would say, ‘Mother I have no desire to marry; my parents want to make me do so per force.’ The Mother would reply at once, ‘See, see, what oppression!’ Once a devotee said to her, ‘Mother, I have tried so long to remain a bachelor; now I see, I shan’t be able to continue.’ The Mother said reassuringly, ‘Why be afraid? There were quite a number of householder devotees of the Master. You need not be afraid, you can marry.’

It was not easy to understand the Mother’s mind in such situations; curiosity was, therefore, rampant. The widow of Navasan one day expostulated, ‘Mother, all your sons are equal; and yet to one who seeks your opinion regarding marriage, you give your consent for it; and him who wants to leave the world, you advise approvingly eulogizing renunciation. It should rather be your duty to lead all along the path that is best.’ The Mother answered, ‘Will a man whose thirst for enjoyment is great obey me even if I prohibit it? And should I not help him a little who through his immense good luck has seen through this play of maya and clings to Him as the only reality? My daughter, is there any end to the woes of the world?’

Even if we take it for granted that one should assist a monk in the path of his renunciation, the question arises, ‘Who can recognize such a passionless man, and after such recognition who can help him?’ The Mother knew well enough that a layman cannot have the same outlook as a monk. We are not taking into consideration such persons as the widow of Navasan in whom affliction in life and devotion towards the Mother had generated a veneration for the ochre garb; we have here in mind people who have the clarity of vision and are willing to help souls that are free from attachment. How many are there of such a high calibre? When the Mother was at Jayrambati for the last time there came a young man who had obtained the M. A. degree. He said that he was in a dilemma. Understanding that he was desirous of the monastic life, Swami Shivananda of the Belur Math had encouraged him heartily; but considering the shock that his mother would get, Master Mahashaya had been advising delay.1 The Mother listened without any commitment. Later she told Brahmachari Varada, ‘He has his mother and brother at home, which is near Master’s (Master Mahashaya’s). Hearing that he wants to become a monk, Master is dilly-dallying and saying, “What harm is there if you don’t take orders so hurriedly?” But at the Math, Tarak (Shivananda) is giving him much encouragement. After all, Master is a house-holder, and Tarak an unsophisticated holy man. Ah! To accept the Master’s (Sri Ramakrishna’s) ideal of renunciation is the result of great good fortune. Tarak has spoken rightly. How many can rise up if they once dive into the world? The boy has great strength of mind.’ When the young man saluted her again the next day, she blessed him heartily and said, ‘May your wish be fulfilled, my boy. What Tarak has said is absolutely true.’

Rammay was then quite young. He was reading for the B.A. degree. Everyone in the Mothers’ household knew that he wanted to become a monk. One noon the Mother was cleaning her teeth with powder, while Rammay stood by her. Suddenly Nalini Devi said, ‘Just see, dear aunt, how fine this boy is. He has passed two examinations, (Matriculation and Intermediate Arts), and is now reading for the third. With what sacrifice his parents brought him up and are now defraying his expenses for education! And here the good boy wants to become a holy man! He should be earning to feed them, but he has no such thought!’ ‘What can you understand?’ interposed the Mother. ‘They are not the crow’s fledglings but the cuckoo’s. As they grow, they recognize their true mother and fly away from the nursing mother to their true mother. ’ 1 Rammay became a monk subsequently under the name Swami Gaurishwarananda.

When the Mother was at Jayrambati for the last time, a young man named Manasa got the ochre robe from her; and much elated thereby, he sat in the drawing-room of uncle Kali to sing sweetly some songs on goddess Kali, songs which charmed Maku and Radhu who sat by him, as also the Holy Mother and some of the aunts who heard from a distance. One of the aunts remarked, ‘Sister-in-law has turned that boy into a monk.’ And Maku joined in saying, ‘With what expectations the parents of this boy brought him up; and all these are now dashed to the ground! Marriage, too, is a virtuous act in this world. If aunt goes on making monks in this way, Mahamaya will become angry with her. If they want to take orders, let them do so by themselves; why should aunt be instrumental in this?’ After she had finished, the Mother said, ‘Maku, they are all divine children; they will live on this earth as pure as flowers. What can be happier than that? Haven’t you seen into the happiness of this world? I am getting my very bones scorched by the fiery ordeals of your family lives.’

Even though naturally inclined to a life of renunciation, the Mother was very careful about granting Sannyasa. Since Swami Keshavananda was the only son of his mother, she did not at first consent to his renouncing the world; but when she was assured that he had his mother’s approval she gladly agreed. As the Swami suffered from asthma and was in bad health, his mother prayed to the Holy Mother before he embraced the monk’s life that she might not have to see her son die before her. The Mother granted the boon, which was duly fulfilled.

In 1913, Brahmachari Devendra came to Jayrambati from Banaras and prayed for Sannyasa. The Mother inquired about the condition of his family and when she became satisfied that the family would not suffer by losing him, she permitted him to get the ochre robes from Koalpara and granted him Sannyasa on the next day.

Again, when during her last illness at the ‘Udbodhan’, she was informed of the death of the father of a young man living with her, she inquired of him about his family affairs and said subsequently, ‘Can you understand why I asked you today so much about your family, and your mother? When I first got the news of your father’s death from G. I asked him on whom else your mother could depend, whether she had sufficient provision for her maintenance, and whether she could do without you. Having been told that she can manage even if she loses you, I thought within myself, “Good! As the boy has a noble intention, there won’t be any great hindrance to his continuing in the holy path.”’

Once she had granted Sannyasa after thorough inquiry, she was not to be swerved from her decision by criticism, nay, not even by tears; for it was her conviction that one who renounced for God was really blessed. Soon after an aspirant had left Jayrambati with ochre clothes granted by the Mother, his mother and wife came there weeping bitterly for securing a cancellation, and complaining that such indiscretion was going to ruin a family. But the Mother firmly told them, ‘He has not done any wrong, he has chosen the right path; and I have been told that he has provided for your maintenance.’ They were pacified by the Mother’s affection and persuasion and left Jayrambati in a peaceful frame of mind.

Instances are not rare when she set her face against Sannyasa. Once a woman disciple of hers wrote that her husband had been repeatedly telling her, ‘You go away with your children and live with your parents. I shall not live in the world any longer, but shall become a monk.’ Every line of the woman’s letter was full of piteous wail and helpless cry for succour. Hearing the letter read, the Mother said with some emotion, ‘Just see the impropriety of the thing! He will be a monk, forsooth! Why did he marry? If you really want to give up, first make suitable arrangement for the subsistence of your dependents. ’

Once there came two devout young men on the first day of the worship of Durga. They offered lotuses at the Mother’s feet and prayed for Sannyasa. There was in their talks and demeanour an unnatural sentimentalism at which the Mother smiled; and when they showed their eagerness for Sannyasa she dissuaded them saying, ‘That will come in due course, my boys.’ They went away disappointed.

In her estimation, the ideal of Sannyasa was very high. About a monk she said one day, ‘Why should he live with a householder just because he is ill? There are Maths and Ashramas. A monk is a model of renunciation. If a wooden female doll should lie upturned on the road, a monk shall not so much as turn it with his feet to have a look at it. And it’s extremely wrong for a monk to possess money. There’s nothing that the round discs can’t do, even to the extent of jeopardizing life.’ At times, she was strict with her own sons on these matters. Returning to Calcutta from Rameswaram she made inquiries about a monk and was told that he had been pining to see her for the last three or four months. Instead of being flattered by this, she said with annoyance, ‘How strange! A monk should go beyond attachment. Even a golden chain is no less a fetter. A monk shouldn’t become a victim of attachment. What’s this that they talk so often of motherly love, and complain, “I haven’t been vouchsafed the Mother’s love”? What’s all that? To have the menfolk always moving about me, well, I don’t like all that. The frame at least is human. Consideration of Divinity comes only after that. I have to live with girls and women of respectable families. Ashu used to be always stirring about upstairs in connection with making sandal-paste and such odd jobs; I reprimanded him ’

A man renounces the world in order to be freed from its worries, so that he may more fully adhere to God. Meditation on God is his bounden duty. A monk who had gone to Rishikesh, a well-known place for practicing austerity at the foot of the Himalayas, wrote, ‘Mother, you said, “You will see the Master in time.” But I have not been granted this up till now.’ On hearing the letter read, the Mother said with annoyance, ‘Do write to him, “The Lord is not under any obligation to come forward to meet you just because you have gone to Rishikesh.” He has become a monk. What will he do now except to call on God? God will reveal Himself when it pleases Him’

A monk has to be vigilant about his own dignity of demeanour. Brahmachari Girija went to Jayrambati, some time in 1906. He was not yet a monk in the real sense of the term. Uncle Prasanna was then about to start for his second wedding ceremony and invited him to join the nuptial party. But the Mother intervened and said, ‘He is a monk; he need not go.’ Next day, at meal-time at noon the Mother said to Girija, ‘My boy, shall I serve you curd?’ Girija, out of natural modesty, said, ‘No, I don’t need it.’ And the Mother added approvingly, ‘Better not take this curd, since this is associated with the marriage.’

Once when there was a proposal for Swami Shantananda’s going to Banaras with a noted devotee of the Master, the Mother said, ‘You are a monk; the railway fare will be so difficult for you to get. They are householders, why should you go with them? You will be travelling in the same compartment; who knows, they may say to you, “Do this, do that.” You are a monk, why should you be doing all that?’ As the news of one of the disciples of the Mother having changed his ochre robe for the white dress of a householder reached the Mother, she said with disgust, ‘An earthen vessel can’t hold a lioness’s milk. By continuously eating food at the houses of wordly men his mind has become polluted. ’

By showing respect towards monks and monasticism, she made people respect them. Although she granted Sannyasa to almost all of the Koalpara Ashrama, she did not give the ochre robe to young Varada because he had to run errands for the Mother and Radhu. When asking him to do certain things, the Mother used to tell him now and then, ‘If you wore the ochre garment, my son, could I order you to do these? I would feel hesitant even if you touched my feet with your hands.’ As this meant delay in becoming a monk, the Mother consoled him saying, ‘ You need have no anxiety at all. Afterwards whenever you feel the hankering you have merely to approach Sarat (Saradananda), and he will arrange for it.’ For the same reason the Mother did not give Sannyasa to her boy attendant Brahmachari Hari (Haripremananda).

The Mother was present at a birthday celebration of the Master at the Belur Math. After the midday meal Brahmachari Rashbihari poured water on her hands for cleaning them; and as it was her custom to wash the feet also on such occasions, the Brahmachari poured water on her feet and proceeded to clean them with his hands, when the Mother said, ‘No, no, my son, not you! You are worthy to be worshipped by gods.’ And she wiped her feet with her own hands. Rashbihari was then only a novice.

On another occasion the Mother was at the ‘Udbodhan’ with Radhu. The latter had anklets that jingled as she walked fast. One day as she descended quickly from the second floor to the first, the Mother heard the sound of those anklets; and when Radhu came nearer she said, ‘Radhi, are you devoid of shame? Down there live all my Sannyasi sons, and you run about making your anklets jingle aloud! What will they think? Do take off your anklets at once. These boys and girls that live here, have not gathered here for the mere fun of it; they have come for spiritual practices and discipline. What will be the result if their discipline is undermined?’ Radhu took off her anklets and threw them away in a huff. Another day, after bath, Radhu was seen combing her hair and tastefully arranging the locks by pressing them with a towel. This, too, annoyed the Mother, and she said so. The fact was that though she was the absolute mistress of the house, she looked to the spiritual needs of the monks for whose good she maintained all round the strictest vigilance.

This reverence for monks and anxiety for discipline were evident elsewhere as well. When she was at Koalpara with Radhu, she was dictating a list for the market to Brahmachari Varada. A woman devotee happened to pass that way, and her cloth inadvertently brushed against the Brahmachari’s back. The Brahmachari hardly noticed it; but the Mother did and reproved the woman saying, ‘How is this, my dear? Why do you walk about so carelessly? They are Brahmacharis. They are to be honoured. Bow down before him ’

Though the householders were as dear to her as the monks, the monks were in some sense more closely related to her. She used to say, ‘My boy, if the world-renouncing ones were not there, with whom could I live?’ One day an elderly woman devotee had some altercation with some monk at the ‘Udbodhan’ as a result of which she left the house saying, ‘By no means shall I return so long as he is there.’ She defied all persuasion to retrace her steps. When the Mother came to know of all this, she felt vexed and said, ‘What is she? A lay woman! If she wants to leave this place, let her do so. The monks live here after renouncing all for me. ’ A monk asked the Mother, ‘Mother, are not all equal who have taken refuge in the Master, irrespective of their being monks or householders, inasmuch as they will all be freed?’ The Mother answered, ‘Good gracious! Can the monk and the householder be equal? The householders are a prey of passions and desires, while the monks have come away leaving everything behind. Whom else have these besides the Lord? Can they be compared with monks?’

Though she revered the monks, she cautioned them against pride. When Arupananda said to her, ‘Mother, Sannyasa brings with it a great conceit,’ the Mother corroborated him with the remark, ‘Yes, a great conceit—“I haven’t been saluted, I am not honoured, I have not been treated with the respect due to me!” Compared with all that, I am much better as (pointing to her white cloth) I am (i.e., with internal renunciation).’

In fact, she valued inner detachment more than outer trappings. Brahmachari Sadhan took the ochre robe from her and then inquired about the formalities he would have to go through for becoming a monk. The Mother told him slowly and solemnly, ‘Faith and firmness are the basic things; if faith and firmness are there, then you have it all.’ But as the Brahmachari was not satisfied with the answer, he reverted again and again to the question of ceremonies till at last the Mother was constrained to say, ‘Get those things done by my sons at the (Belur) Math. ’

It strikes us as though the Mother drew a line between the wearing of the ochre cloth as a help to spiritual discipline and as a reminder of a new path voluntarily chosen, and the renunciation of everything after formally performing the Viraja-homa, the scriptural sacrifice preceding life-long monasticism. A clerk in the Bihar Secretariat felt disgusted with the world and came to the Mother for the ochre robe. The Mother having granted his wish, he retired to the Himalayas for austerity. As the other monks there advised him to perform the Viraja-homa, he sought the opinion of the Mother, who wrote in reply, ‘I did not permit you to perform the Viraja-homa as it is a difficult matter.’ The Mother perhaps saw the inmost heart of this devotee, for he returned home after a long time.

In some cases, again, she did not sanction Sannyasa, but sent the candidates to other Sannyasis. In 1911, Swami Ramakrishnananda brought a young man named Surendra Vijay to the Mother at the ‘Udbodhan’ and requested her, ‘Mother, this boy is accompanying me to Madras. Will you kindly initiate him into Sannyasa?’ The Mother answered, ‘Let Sarat do it.’ But Swami Saradananda replied, ‘I can’t know anybody’s mind; and as for Sannyasa and such things, it is for Maharaj (Swami Brahmananda) to grant it or not.’ Then the Mother said, ‘Then let him have it at Puri from Rakhal.’ Perhaps, in this case also, the Mother knew the young man’s mind; for he returned home soon after.

When Swami Jagadananda approached her for Sannyasa, she gave him the ochre cloth after touching with it the feet of the Master and her own head, and then said ‘I am giving you the ochre cloth; but have the Viraja-homa done under Rakhal’s guidance at the (Belur) Math and get the (Sannyasa) name from him’

Her attitude to Brahmacharya (the vow of celibacy) was unique. She helped many in this path. There was nothing of formality here; there was only the compassionate approval of the guru, coupled with the resolution of the disciples born of their unswerving faith and irrepressible longing. They might not belong to the Order, though many of those initiated thus entered the Ramakrishna Order in due course. We give here a single illustration.

In 1916, Surendranath Gupta went to Jayrambati and then to Kamarpukur with Brahmachari Gopesh. In course of a talk Surendranath came to learn that Gopesh was initiated into Brahmacharya by the Mother. Surendranath was then in Government service; but he was full of dispassion. Naturally, therefore, he was attracted towards Brahmacharya and purchasing a new piece of cloth at Kamarpukur he returned to the Mother to get initiation into Brahmacharya. The Mother inquired about his dependents and then showed the new piece of cloth to the Master and handed it over to Brahmachari Jnan saying, ‘You form it into the outer and inner garbs.’ When Surendranath proposed to resign from his post, the Mother advised him to continue for some time more in service pointing out that it was good to help the Lord’s devotees with a portion of one’s income. He obeyed this direction for some time and then repeated this request; the Mother did not consent even then. At last after the Mother’s passing away, he freed himself completely from his domestic obligations and embraced the monastic life under the name Swami Sasangananda.

As in the case of men, so also in the case of devout women seekers, the Mother was of opinion that if there were suitable arrangements for sustenance and protection, they too might lead a celibate life. When the daughter of Narayana Iyengar of Mysore wanted to take up the vow of celibacy, the Mother asked Swami Saradananda to write a letter to that effect to Sri Iyengar. On another occasion, when a girl refused to marry, her mother approached the Holy Mother to persuade the girl to obey her parents. But the Mother said, ‘Is it a small misery to be a slave to another and to pander to his whims for a whole life?’ And then she explained that though a celibate life had its own risks, it was improper to force any girl into wedlock against her will.

Having considered Sannyasa and Brahmacharya in passing, we return to our main topic, the Ramakrishna Order. Though the Mother was not directly associated with its management, still she guided it from a distance through counsel and spiritual influence, and by strengthening the bonds of love. Her relationship with the different limbs of the Organisation under such circumstances is an interesting study. They were all junior to her, being disciples of the Master, of herself, or of the disciples of the Master. That relationship foreshadowed love on the one hand and obedience on the other. Still it is instructive for us to follow the extraordinary way in which she adapted herself to the needs of different types of men and women.

In 1889 Swami Brahmananda had a strong desire for undertaking austerity in some remote and lonely spot and sought the opinion of the Mother who was then at Jayrambati. She wrote to Balaram Babu, ‘I hear that Rakhal desires to go to the western parts. He suffered from cold at Puri last time. It will be better if he goes in February after winter. But if his desire is irresistible, then I have nothing to say.’ That was enough for Swami Brahmananda who left in December.

Although Swami Vivekananda’s mind was almost decided about going to the U.S.A. in 1893. he wanted to be absolutely free from doubt and so thought, ‘Well, the Mother is none else than a part of the Master. Why should I not write a letter to her? I shall do as she asks me to. ’ With this idea he wrote to her asking for her blessing. The Mother was extremely happy to hear from her beloved son after such a long time. But this presented a problem also for her— should she endorse his plan? About Narendra’s real stature she had indubitable proof from a vision she had at Kamarpukur after the Master’s passing away. Still in the present context there was a conflict between affection and decision; though Narendra’s future was undoubtedly bright, how could a mother permit her son to cross the ocean under the then existing uncertain conditions? When her mind oscillated thus between two alternatives, she saw one night in a dream, the Master walking over the waves and beckoning Swami Vivekananda to follow him. This removed her misgivings, and she blessed the Swami’s project whole-heartedly. The Swami, on his part, was elated on receipt of this letter and said, ‘Hey-day, now is everything fixed up; the Mother, too, wished me to go.’

A few years after this, Swami Saradananda went to Jayrambati for seeking the Mother’s benediction before starting for the U.S.A.1 This time also there appeared before her the vision of the vast field of the Master’s work; so she wiped her tears with one hand and with the other she blessed the Swami and said, ‘The Master is protecting you for ever, my son; there’s nothing to fear.’ When the Mother lived at the Bosepara Lane house in Calcutta, some time in 1898, Swami Brahmananda came there and in consultation with Swami Yogananda drafted a letter to be posted to Swami A. in America directing him in the Holy Mother’s name on certain importat personal matters of health and spirituality. Then it was sent to the Mother for her opinion. She heard it through and said, ‘Tell Yogen (Yogananda) and Rakhal (Brahmananda) that the letter is well written and that my wishes have been correctly conveyed. It has my full approval.’

In May 1914, a devotee came to take Swami Premananda to Malda in connection with a celebration there. The Swami agreed subject to the Mother’s consent. And so they both proceeded to the Mother at the ‘Udbodhan’. The Mother disagreed, for the Swami was then in bad health and Malda was a far-off and out-of-the way place; besides, a festival was fraught with personal inconveniences. The Swami bowed down to her wishes, but the devotee was in a quandary. They had now to unsettle a settled fact which was by no means so easy. Hence he remonstrated with the

Mother, who recalled the Swami and said, ‘Well Baburam, they are so solicitous; should you then go?’ The devout son replied, ‘What do I know, Mother? It shall be as you order!’ At last she said, ‘Go for a while; don’t stay there for long.’ The programme was fixed up accordingly.

Swami Shivananda was the manager of the Belur Math. Brahmachari Nagen (junior) did something awkward, because of which his friends warned him that he would be turned out of the Math by the Swami. Full of fear, the Brahmachari at once left for Jayrambati without any notice and without any change of clothes. When he reached the Mother’s house with dirty clothes and haggard looks, none could imagine that he belonged to the Belur Math. After he had revealed his identity, the Mother gave him two pieces of cloth and a wrapper and had a letter written to Swami Shivananda to the effect: ‘My dear son Tarak, the Junior Nagen has offended you in some way. Being afraid that you will turn him out of the Math, he has come to me covering the whole way on foot. As to that, my boy, can a mother mind her son’s offence? Don’t, my boy, take any action against him.’ She kept Nagen with her till the reply came. By the return of post the reply came, ‘We are freed from anxiety learning that younger Nagen is at your place. We had been searching for him Kindly send him over here; there is a dearth of hands here for the worship. I shall not take any steps against him.’ On receipt of the letter, Nagen went with the Mother’s permission to Badanganj with Prabodh Babu who gave him a couple of shirts and railway fare up to Belur. When he arrived there, Swami Shivananda held him fast in an embrace and said, ‘How now, my boy! You went to the High Court to complain against me?’

In 1912, when the Mother was in Banaras, there came a woman who related to her the poverty she was suffering from and then requested her to arrange for some monetary help from the local Ramakrishna Mission centre. The Mother answered, ‘I may tell them and try. But, my daughter, all their collection is from begging. And there’s no counting what a lot of people they are helping. They have to disburse what they have as they think best. ’

On the one hand there was this freedom, and on the other there was a strict regulation of it. Once it was decided to dismiss the cook at the ‘Udbodhan’: but the manager was shillyshallying on the plea that this would inconvenience the Mother. Hearing of this the Mother said ‘You are monks whose one aim is renunciation; can’t you get rid of a servant?’ Again, when the Mother came to know that a monk at the Belur Math had slapped a servant for disobedience, she commented, ‘They are (homeless) monks who should live under trees. And to think that they have their Math, their house, their servant and the beating of that servant to boost!’

Though such rare occasions evoked a few caustic remarks from her, love for the monks was a dominant note of all her dealings with them. One of the Brahmacharis used to go from Belur to Calcutta in passing boats during ebb tide for marketing at Burrabazar and would return by boat; otherwise he went to the ‘Udbodhan’ for midday meal. Owing to difficulties of communication and uncertainties of tide, he could not intimate his movements and often appeared at meal-time without notice. This irritated Golap-Ma. And one noon, as he put in an appearance, she began castigating him loudly for his indiscipline. The Mother heard of this and, coming out to the verandah from her room, said to Golap-Ma, ‘Now the Master’s family is daily on the increase; and one or two like these are to be expected as a matter of course. Can you help that?’ Golap-Ma still argued, ‘He comes just when he likes and without any notice whatever.’ The Mother said, ‘Howsoever that may be, you are now to serve him food without delay, it is already late; my son has come after much rummaging.’ Golap-Ma twitted her by saying, ‘Why so much sympathy for him? Is he your father-in-law?’ Nothing abashed, the Mother asserted, ‘Yes, so it is. They are my fathers-in-law, my all.’ About a fortnight before the worship of Durga in 1919, four Brahmacharis walked from Belur Math to Jayrambati and bowed down before the Mother. She inquired about her sons at Belur and wanted to know if the Brahmacharis had come with the permission of Swami Saradananda. They replied, ‘No, Mother. In the afternoon before yesterday, as we walked out of the Math precincts and came in sight of the Grand Trunk Road, one of us said, “One can reach Banaras if one walks along this road.” No sooner did he say so than the determination came to us, “Well then, let us not return to the Math and right away proceed along this road to Banaras.”

And thus we didn’t return to the Math, or send any intimation of our action but walked along for some distance, when it struck us that since we had been walking to Banaras, it would be in the fitness of things to come to Jayrambati to take the monastic vow from you and then undertake austerity at Banaras for sometime by living on alms. That’s why we have come to you.’ The narration over, the Mother looked pensive for a while and then said slowly, ‘Listen , my boys, it’s my wish that you now return to the Math. The Durga worship will come off a few days hence. They will be in great difficulty about the various works. It was not proper for you to have come without telling Tarak (Shivananda). And you have come in this season (of malaria) without so much as informing Sarat (Saradananda). Had you told Sarat, he would not have allowed you to come.’ And she added, ‘Is it any less austerity to live at the Math? You have joined the Math only recently; you should live with them for some time; then everything will come slowly in due course.’ The Brahmacharis were not dissuaded, but they rather kept on supplicating her for Sannyasa. Moreover, their leader asserted that they would perform austerity for a long time at Banaras with the determination of a Buddha ‘to achieve the end or end the body’. The Mother was embarrassed by their doggedness, but she could not be cruel. She granted the ochre cloth to only one of them. Brahmachari Bholanath, the youngest of the group, had been introduced by her to the Belur Math, and so she was at pains to see at least this boy return to the Math; but fidelity to the group dragged him also to Banaras.

In the meantime, Swami Shivananda guessed that the Brahmacharis had gone to Jayrambati, and he appraised the Mother of the whole situation by a letter. In answer, the Mother also informed him of all that had happened at her place. Swami Shivananda now wrote to Chandra Maharaj (Swami Nirbharananda), head of the Advaita Ashrama of Banaras, not to shelter these insubordinate Brahmacharis who had defied all including the Mother. This order was followed by all concerned, except Bholanath (afterwards Swami Amareshananda) who found himself stranded and prayed for the Mother’s indulgence to permit him to stay at the Advaita Ashrama. Bholanath’s letter moved the Mother and she said, ‘Alas, he has become a prey to his group! Now he realizes how painful it is. Anyway, let us write to Chandra so that he may find refuge in the (Advaita) Ashrama itself. ’ And to Bholanath she wrote, ‘I have written to Chandra about you; and to you I say, now that you are at Banaras, if you can live in the Master’s Ashrama serving Chandra and the other monks for life, it will be to your own good.’ A similar message was communicated to Swami Shivananda, who obeyed the decision unquestioningly. Bholanath fulfilled the Mother’s expectation by spending the rest of his life at the Advaita Ashrama, where he breathed his last on February 4, 1948.

We now come to deal with the preservation of the Master’s birth-place and arrangements for a temple to be built on it, in settling which questions the Mother had an important part to play. When she was at the ‘Udbodhan’ for the last time, the Master’s nephew and niece, Ramlal and Lakshmi Devi, and Ramlal’s daughter came to see her on their way to Entally where they were going to attend the birthday celebration of the Master. In the course of conversation they adverted to the question of the Master’s birthplace and the proposed temple on it. Lakshmi Devi wanted to know, ‘When that (temple) is constructed, will it be in our keeping, and will their (Ramlal’s and Shivaram’s) children themselves carry on the worship etc., and live there?’ The Mother replied, ‘How can that be? These are monks and devotees. Do they observe caste regulations? Innumerable people, and many foreigners from diverse countries will be going and living there and partaking of the prasada. We have to deal with all sorts of devotees, whereas you are householders; you have your society, your marriages for your children. How can you live with them?’ The conversation proceeded in this way, and the Mother suggested that the monks of the Belur Math should take charge of the birth-place as also of the future temple, and that they should build houses with roofings of corrugated iron sheets for Ramlal and others, and a permanent brick temple for the family deities, Raghuvir and Sitala, whose worship, however, should continue to be entrusted to the family itself. But she also emphasized that Ramlal, Shivaram, and Lakshmi should live in the temple precincts and partake of the prasada from there whenever they chanced to stay at Kamarpukur. All present endorsed the Mother’s proposals heartily and Swami Saradananda, too, was pleased to hear of this arrangement.1

We have already referred to the arrangement made with regard to the Mother’s birth-place and the trust deed registered in favour of Jagad-dhatri. According to the Mother’s wishes and the relevant deeds, the trustees of the Belur Math are the absolute managers of all these properties.

1. In colloquial Bengali Sa (saha) means forbear; and in the Bengali alphabet there are three ‘s’ sounds (sibilants), as shown above. Punning on these letters, the Master emphasizes thrice the need of forbearance.

1. Though Master Mahashaya seemed to be a little reserved in this particular case, in actuality he inspired many to take to a life of renunciation.

1. Refers to the habit of cuckoos laying eggs in crows’ nests. The crows hatch the eggs and feed the young cuckoos till they can fly.

1. The Swami left Calcutta in March 1896, and arrived in London on April 1.

1. In accordance with this settlement, the birth-place was handed over to the trustees of the Belur Math, by a document dated the 27th of July, 1918, which was signed by the Holy Mother and others. A little earlier, on December 14, 1917, a small piece of land contiguous to the birth-place was secured by the trustees. The construction of the temple began only after the acquisition of the Master’s house on July 16, 1946. The stone temple built on the birth-place was dedicated on May 11, 1951. The trustees have built a permanent structure for the family deities, and have paid adequate sums to the descendants of Ramlal and Shivaram towards the cost of their separate houses.