SWAMI SARADANANDA

Many years had elapsed since the Master departed from this life, during which period the number of disciples of the Mother had increased considerably. Many of them visited her at Jayrambati. Among them, Dr. Jnanendranath Kanjilal went there in the first quarter of 1908 with some essential medicines for the free treatment of the villagers, many of whom were benefited by his presence.

His name having spread to remote villages, every day the crowd at his door was quite considerable. Noticing this, the Mother said with pride. ‘My gifted son has come; why shouldn’t people gather?’ The villagers expressed their gratitude to the doctor in various ways, and at the time of his departure the Mother saw him off personally, accompanying him to the border of the village.

The Mother was in indifferent health in those days. She had a renewed attack of her old trouble, rheumatism; and in addition to this, she was attacked by malaria soon after Dr. Kanjilal left. The temperature rose so high that it caused grave anxiety to all. During one night, she was thus talking in a delirium: ‘I have to go. No. Why?—For Radhi. Well, let it be so.’ It seemed as though she was talking with the Master; the Mother wanted release; but the Master asked her to stay on for Radhu’s sake. However that might have been, Dr. Kanjilal had left behind certain specific medicines for certain common diseases, one of which was administered to her whereupon she recovered.

Even while the Mother lived in her village home, Swami Saradananda kept himself informed of her welfare through letters or messengers, and sent her money as occasion demanded. Furthermore, he was always eager to keep her in Calcutta; but he would not do anything against her slightest wish. This time too, when she fell ill, he proposed more than once to bring her to Calcutta; but the Mother refused. In the meantime, there had been a great change in Calcutta. When the Mother came to Calcutta, she had often to live in the houses of devotees. She was, of course, noted for her endurance and adaptability; but it pained Swami Saradananda to find her personal freedom smothered in others’ houses. Moreover, of late, many of her relatives and women devotees had been moving about with her; and for most householders it was difficult to accommodate so many people at a time or for any long period. The expenses, too, were not inconsiderable. To arrange for rented houses was not easy for penniless monks like Swami Saradananda; and suitable houses were not always available at the proper time or place. Often enough, the houses were away from the Ganges thereby causing inconvenience to the Mother who had to have her daily bath in its holy waters. Besides, a permanent house was necessary to locate the offices for the Bengali periodical Udbodhan and to accommodate its staff. Taking into consideration all these factors, Swami Saradanana decided to launch on a bold scheme—he would have a permanent brick-built house at Baghbazar.

Kedarchandra Das had gifted away to the Belur Math on the 18th of July, 1906, a small plot of land (measuring about 260 sq. yards.) on the Gopal Neogi Lane, in Baghbazar, not very far from the Ganges. At first it was proposed to have a tiled shed on this land for the Udbodhan. But Swami Saradananda stood for a small brick structure. To start with he had in hand a meager fund of Rs. 2,700/- got together through the sale of Swami Vivekananda’s books, which amount, it was found on calculation, would not carry him beyond the foundation. Still he was sanguine of finishing the structure through loans. Such boldness did not go unchallenged, to be sure. But depending on the Mother’s grace, he borrowed Rs. 5,700/-and started building at the end of 1907.

But as the work proceeded, he had to borrow more money; and at last through his determination and bold execution, the Udbodhan got, at a cost of eleven thousand rupees, a permanent house to which it was shifted at the end of 1908. This house had then six rooms on the ground floor, three on the first, and one on the second, or ten rooms in all. The lowest rooms were meant for the Udbodhan and the others for the Mother and her companions. The Mother was at Jayrambati at that time and did not like to come even though the news of the completion of the house reached her.

One incident which took place in the middle of March 1909, is worth mentioning here. Swami Yogavinode of

Kankurgachhi celebrated the Master’s birthday at Kamarpukur at that time, and to make it a complete success took the Holy Mother there. She enjoyed it immensely.

Just after the celebration there arose a new situation at Jayrambati. For meeting it adequately, the Holy Mother requisitioned the services of the most dependable and level-headed of her sons, Swami Saradananda. The Mother had been acting as the guardian of her brothers who lived in a joint family. But as the brothers and their wives grew up and their families expanded, differences and tensions developed, as a result of which the brothers wanted to be separated; and the Mother also found that to be the only logical solution. For bringing about this settlement Swami Saradananda was invited to help with his personal presence.

On the 23rd of March, 1909, Swami Saradananda started for Jayrambati in the company of Yogin-Ma, Golap-Ma, and a Brahmachari and arrived there the next day. Then he spent a few days in visiting such places, as Navasan Kamarpukur, etc. A remarkable trait in the Swami’s character to be noticed at this time was that, though he had come evidently for a settlement of worldly affairs, he spent most of his time in talking about the Master or editing the fnana-yoga of Swami Vivekananda.

The Mother used to be very busy at the time. In addition to her daily normal duty, she cooked some dishes morning and evening for Swami Saradananda. And she attended to such minute details as leveling the unpaved courtyard where water might have created a depression. Seeing her so busy, the Brahmachari wanted to help her. But the Swami, who knew better, warned him that if he did any such thing, it would reflect discredit on the aunts who would be accused of being unmindful of their old sister-in-law.

When some days had thus passed away, Sri Kedarnath Datta1 of Koalpara was brought there to make measurement of the landed property. Kedar went on with his work, while Swami

Saradananda’s mind still followed its wonted habit of spiritual aloofness. After the lands had been measured, there arose the question of division, in which Swami Saradananda had to play a vital part. The documents were all in the keeping of uncle Kali; but uncle Prasanna wanted them to be in his own custody. Ultimately he proposed a division of the papers; Swami Saradananda, however, decided that lands and documents would be simultaneously dealt with. Uncle Prasanna was not reconciled to this; therefore, taking advantage of the Swami’s momentary absence from the room where the talk was proceeding, he tried to snatch away the papers from his brother, and as a consequence a scuffle ensued. But as Swami Saradananda again stepped in, uncle Prasanna sat down gloomily. In fact, there was a repetition of what usually happens under such circumstances in many a joint family on the eve of disruption. And yet Swami Saradananda remained unruffled like the immobile Himalayas; and relying fully on his judgment and direction, the Mother kept her mind absolutely above these worldly turmoils. Drawing attention to this equipoise of the Mother based as it was on a spiritual insight, the Swami said to the Brahmachari, ‘You have seen us often enough—how we flare up at seeing our slightest wish disregarded. But look at the Mother. What a hell her brothers are creating and yet how calm and collected she is at all times!’

When the terms of the partition had been worked out, they had to be incorporated in a document. The arbitrators were Swami Saradananda, Sri Saradaprasad Chatterji of Tajpur, and Sri Shambhuchandra Roy of Jibta. Sri Chatterji asked the Mother through her brothers which house she would prefer to live in. She sent her answer: ‘Rats bore holes and snakes live therein.’ Sarada Babu, a man of the world, was not impressed by such sentimentalism; and he had it explained to her that the whole property—lands, houses, and all was being partitioned, and so if any house was not set apart for her, where would she live in Jayrambati? This time, too, the Mother’s answer was, ‘Some days I shall live in Prasanna’s house and some days in Kali’s.’ Without further ado, Sri Chatterji allotted to uncle Prasanna’s share the house where the Mother lived. The documents were executed and duly registered at Kotulpur. Then the uncles took possession of their respective shares. At last the Mother heaved a sigh of relief and told Yogin-Ma and Golap-Ma that she would go to Calcutta. Accordingly, Swami Saradananda fixed Friday, the 21st of May, as the day of departure.

It was decided that the bullock-carts carrying the party would reach Koalpara at four o’clock in the afternoon, and after a brief halt would proceed to Vishnupur. Of the four carts, one was occupied by the Holy Mother, Radhu and Maku; the second by Golap-Ma and Yogin-Ma; the third by Swami Saradananda; and the last by the Brahmachari and one Ashutosh from Jayrambati. When the carts reached Koalpara at about eight or nine o’clock in the night, the devotees of the village unyoked the bullocks from the Mother’s cart and drew it themselves till they arrived at the house of Sri Kedarnath Datta. The Mother was taken for rest to the shrine of Kedar while others went to the local school-house. On inquiry about the delay, it was learnt that the wheels of the carts got stuck up in the mud near the river at Shihar. The devotees had not anticipated such a long delay, and had arranged for light refreshments only. As it did not at all strike them that something should be done for the night meals, they went on talking leisurely with the Mother. The Jayrambati party, on the contrary, took it for granted that even without any suggestion from their side, the Koalpara people would arrange for their night meals. As a result of this misunderstanding time rolled on uselessly, when at last it dawned on the Jayrambati people that they had waited uselessly and it was better to move forward. Therefore, at the instance of the elders, the Brahmachari cried out from the entrance of Kedar’s house: ‘It is getting extremely late.’ The whole party at once hurried to the carts, which started immediately for Vishnupur They halted at Kotulpur at about ten o’clock to procure from a sweetmeat seller some food with which they appeased their hunger in the temple premises of Shantinatha Siva. They reached Vishnupur next morning and entrained for Calcutta at night.

The 23rd of May, 1909, is a red letter day in the annals of the premises No. 1, Udbodhan Lane, Baghbazar, Calcutta; for on that day the Holy Mother set her sacred foot there. Swami Saradananda felt all his labour repaid when he saw the Mother established in her own house. The situation of the house might not have been attractive, but it was after the Mother’s mind in many ways. The land in front was then an open field without any hutment, and served as a grazing ground for stray cattle. The Ganges was near at hand, a full view of which could be had from the terrace. And as one’s eyes extended far to the north, one could have a sight of the tops of the tall village trees in the outskirts of the city. The Mother was overjoyed to see the house and blessed Swami Saradananda heartily.

On the altar in the shrine was placed the Master’s picture over which was hung a silk canopy made by Sister

Nivedita. In the adjoining room there was a new couch for the Mother and near it an old bedstead for Radhu. The Mother disapproved of the arrangement saying, ‘I can’t live separated from the Master, nor is it proper. ’ So the two beds were placed in the shrine-room. The first night passed off this way. But next day, the Mother said that she felt uncomfortable on the couch without Radhu alongside of her, and Radhu, too, did not feel happy when alone. Accordingly, the couch was taken out and only the bedstead remained for both of them to sleep on. Thus in all affairs, big or small, Swami Saradananda considered himself a servant of the Mother and was ever ready to fulfil her slightest wish.

Here we must adduce certain facts to illustrate the devotion that the Swami had for the Mother, and the tenderness she had for him; for otherwise one cannot comprehend the important role that Swami Saradananda played in this divine drama.

In the beginning of 1920, during Swami Saradananda’s stay in Banaras, when the Mother’s going to Calcutta became imperative, she coolly said, ‘There can be no question of my going to Calcutta unless Sarat is there. To whom am I to go? While I am there, if Sarat happens to say, “Mother, I am going out for a few days,” I shall say, “Tarry a little, my son; let me first step out from this place and then you can start.” Who but Sarat will bear my burden?’ On another occasion she said, ‘I can stay at that place so long as Sarat is there. After him I don’t see any one who can shoulder my responsibility. Sarat can do so in every way. Sarat is my burden-bearer.’ The hearer asked the Mother, ‘Can’t Maharaj (Swami Brahmananda) do so?’ ‘No,’ replied the Mother, ‘Rakhal is not of that temperament. He can’t face troubles. He can do so intellectually or through some one. He is of a totally different make-up.’ The questioner pursued, ‘What about Baburam Maharaj (Swami Premananda)? ‘No,’ replied the Mother, ‘not even he.’ ‘But, as a matter of fact, he is running the (Belur) Math.’ ‘Let it be so,’ replied the Mother. ‘Think of the responsibilities for a woman! He can make inquiries from a distance.’ On another day she said, ‘It is extremely difficult, my child, to stand up against my heavy pressure. Nobody excepting Sarat will be able to shoulder my burden. ’

A devotee from Ranchi came and told the Mother, ‘I have come to take you to Ranchi for some days. The fixing up of a house and other things have been arranged for.’ ‘Does Sarat know?’ inquired she. ‘No’ replied the devotee. ‘Then there can be no going for me,’ clinched she. ‘Sarat came and returned disappointed. Let me go to Calcutta first. If he advises, then this will be considered.’ ‘But, Mother,’ pleaded the devotee, ‘we have already made the arrangements.’ The mother answered, ‘Why did you arrange without informing me first?’ When the devotee had left, she said, ‘Look here, my child, people think it is very easy to take me. They know only sensation-mongering. On another occasion they printed leaflets that I would go to Dacca, though I knew nothing of it. They can serve me for a couple of days or so. Is it easy to assume my responsibility? I have yet to see any one except Sarat who can bear that burden. He is my Vasuki (the mythological serpent). What a lot of work he is doing by spreading his thousand hoods; wherever there is any rainfall, he spreads his umbrella (hood) to protect me.’ Sri Surendranath Mazumdar once approached the Mother with his brother Sri Sourendranath Mazumdar for initiation. As the Mother was ill, she asked them to come a few days later. But finding Surendra inflexible, she said, ‘Go to Sarat; it will be as he advises.’ The devotee still expostulated, ‘We don’t know anybody else; it is to you that we have come, and you must grant us this.’ ‘What do you mean?’ said the Mother in reply. ‘Sarat is my crest-jewel. It shall be as he will decide.’ The Mother spoke with such emphasis that the devotees found no way out but to obey; and hence they approached Swami Saradananda for his approval. But he too argued that it was impossible to arrange for initiation so long as the Mother was in ill health. Then the devotees related the whole incident, on hearing which the Swami kept silent for a while and then said, ‘You say that the Mother spoke thus? Well, you come prepared on such a day. ’ Though Swami Saradananda received so much honour from one whom he considered the sheet-anchor of his life, yet he was never proud. He was then writing his masterpiece, the Sri Sri Ramakrishna Lilaprasanga, with the proceeds of which he hoped to liquidate the debt he had incurred. One day as he opened his papers to begin the daily work, a devotee came and prostrated himself before him. The Swami looked up and inquired with an amused smile, ‘Why this ceremonious salute of yours?’ The devotee replied ‘How you talk, sir? Whom else shall I salute if not you?’ Humility incarnate as the Swami was, he replied, ‘I also implore and wait for her favour by whom you have been blessed. She can even at this moment seat you here in my place if she so desires.’

The Swami considered himself a mere door-keeper at the Mother’s house. But this self-imposed duty was not always a pleasant one. One summer noon Sri Surendranath Roy, a devotee from Barisal, walked from his residence on Harrison Road to the Mother’s house, a distance of about three miles, and arrived there just when the Mother had come in and was taking rest. Though Surendra was tired and wet with perspiration, he was so eager to see the Mother that he tried to walk straight up the stairs without waiting for formalities. But there stood Swami Saradananda blocking the way and saying, ‘I can’t allow you to go to the Mother now; she has just returned and is tired.’ ‘Is the Mother a monopoly of yours?’ blurted out the devotee in a fit of ill humour and walked up pushing the Swami aside. But once in the Mother’s presence, he became penitent and thought, ‘Bless God, that I may not meet him when going down. ’ He related the whole incident to the Mother, who consoled him saying that neither could her children be really guilty, nor could her sons be offended. Still he descended with trepidation and a guilty conscience to find to his dismay the Swami still there at his post. Surendra saluted him and begged to be forgiven for the offence. But Swami Saradananda embraced him warmly and said, ‘What offence can there be? Can one see the Mother unless one is so earnest?’

Within a few weeks after her arrival at the new house, the Mother had an attack of chicken-pox (middle of June 1909), for the treatment of which she was put under a priest of the Sitala temple in Baghbazar Street. The brahmin came every day and the Mother bowed down before him after throwing the hem of her cloth round her neck like a devout lady, and took the dust of his feet. One day an attendant remonstrated that it ill befitted her to be so obsequious; moreover, the brahmin might as well be loose in character. The Mother merely replied, ‘The fact is that he is a brahmin in spite of everything. One should have due respect for his robes; the Master did not, in fact, come to destroy. ’ When she recovered, she told Swami Shantananda, ‘My body is so weak that I can’t undertake a fast; you do so on my behalf for Sitala’s favour and offer worship to Her.’ The Swami fasted as he was directed and worshipped Sitala near Chitpore.

After recovery, the Mother used to be taken in Lalit Babu’s carriage to different places along with Golap-Ma and Yogin-Ma. Thus she visited the Parshwanatha temple, Ramrajatala, Navagopal Babu’s house in Howrah and many such places. She went twice to the Yogodyana at Kankurgachhi (21st of August and 6th of September). She was present on the 12th of September at the Minerva Theater where the Pandava-Gaurava was staged. When the Divine Mother appeared and the song ‘Look at the goddess who enchants the heart of Shiva’ etc., began, she fell into samadhi. Girishchandra enacted the role of Kanchuki in the performance.

Golap-Ma now shifted permanently to the Mother’s new house, and she slept with the mad aunt in the room adjoining the Mother’s room to the west. In that room the Mother made betel rolls and rubbed oil on her body before bath. The southern room was then used for dining purposes. Yogin-Ma used to come twice every day and lend a helping hand to Golap-Ma in all kinds of domestic duties such as measuring out stores and dressing vegetables for the kitchen.

During the Mother’s stay in the new house there was a Kirtana by Sri Jatindranath Mitra at the house of the Dattas at 1, Lakshmi Datta Lane. The Mother and some women devotees went there on invitation. Jatindra was not a professional singer, but he had a sweet voice. The subject for the kirtana that day was the separation of the gopis, the sweethearts of Krishna, from him. It was all a wail of agony, and all were impressed both by the melody and by the sentiments. The Holy Mother, behind the screen, was in a state of semi-consciousness. The time now came for the performer to depart, for he had to catch a train for another place. Finding that the sitting was about to be closed with a final song of separation, the Mother, still in her spiritual afflatus, had it communicated to the singer that the kirtana should end with a song of union. Jatindra obliged her and took leave. But the last song, with its charming sentiments, tune, cadences, and richness of voice carried the Mother’s mind to another level of existence, so much so, that she sat quietly where she was, totally lost to the environment. Golap-Ma, who was acquainted with such inebriation, lifted up the Mother laying hold of her hands and led her to the carriage after some nominal refreshment. She noticed that the Mother had still no control over her feet which faltered at every step; and so she had to be bodily lifted to the carriage. On reaching the ‘Udbodhan’ house, she was led up the stairs by two of her attendants to the shrine-room, where, too, she stood still without a wink in her eyes and any response to outer call. Noticing this, Golap-Ma remarked, ‘I witnessed this mood of the Mother at Vrindaban, and here I see it again.’ Finding that the Mother’s mind refused to return to the normal plane, the devotees decided that since she had incarnated as a Mother for the sake of her children, the call ‘Mother’ might bring her round. So one attendant kept on repeating that word in her ears till there was some quivering of the body and then she said in a clear tone, ‘Why, my son?’ The devotees now drew sighs of relief, and the Mother then engaged herself in offering food to the Master in the normal way.

Swami Saradananda’s works were multifarious — the service of the Mother, Secretaryship of the Ramakrishna Math and Mission, writing of the Sri Sri Ramakrishna Lilaprasanga for the repayment of the loan, and courteous reception of the devotees coming to pay their respects to the Mother. Over and above all these, he sang for the Mother whenever ordered by her. When the evening service was over and she had finished her japa, she sent word that she would like to hear a few devotional songs. The musical instruments were near at hand in the drawing-room which also served as the Swami’s office. He got hold of somebody to play on them and sang with a sweet voice such songs about the Divine Mother or about Shiva as the Mother liked.

The Mother spent about six months n the new house and then left for Jayrambati on the 16th of November, 1909. In the same year, on the 14th of December, the Swami purchased an adjacent plot measuring about 100 sq. yds. for Rs. 1,800/- for the extension of the house. Later on, at the beginning of 1915, the present house of the Holy Mother was completed by adding a few more rooms to the earlier ones.

On her way home, the Mother got down at Koalpara. The devotees of the place spread lotuses over the path that she was to tread. She walked over them to the place of resting. There she had her bath and some light refreshment and then started for home. She visited Koalpara again on her return journey to Calcutta after some seven or eight months. Kedar’s mother accompanied her to Calcutta, and the rumour went round that the Mother intended to go to the South on a pilgrimage.

She stayed in her Calcutta house till the beginning of December. It was very cold then, and the devotees wanted her to put on a warm Guernsey frock. Accordingly, a good frock was obtained from a foreign shop for Rs. 10/- given by Swami Saradananda. The Mother was apparently delighted to have it and used it for three days. But on the fourth day, she spoke out her mind frankly, ‘My son, is it becoming of a woman to wear a frock? And yet I have worn it for three days to please you.’ With these words she took it off and never again wore it. But though she did not use any frock or bodice, she wrapped her cloth round her body and tied it into a fine knot under the arms in such a way that the whole body remained covered. In fact, it was remarkable how she avoided luxury despite her command over resources and how she maintained her old-fashioned, rural simplicity in the midst of metropolitan finery.

1. Later on he became a monk under the name Swami Keshavananda and head of the monastery at Koalpara, which he had started as a lay worshipper.