Babaji's interest in the West

From Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda

"MASTER, did you ever meet Babaji?"
       It was a calm summer night in Serampore; the large stars of the tropics gleamed over our heads as I sat by Sri Yukteswar's side on the second-story balcony of the hermitage.
       "Yes." Master smiled at my direct question; his eyes lit with reverence. "Three times I've been blessed by the sight of the deathless guru. Our first meeting was in Allahabad at a Kumbha Mela."
       The religious fairs held in India since time immemorial are known as Kumbha Melas; they've kept spiritual goals in constant sight of the multitude. Devout Hindus gather by the millions every six years to meet thousands of sadhus, yogis, swamis, and ascetics of all kinds. Many are hermits who never leave their secluded haunts except to attend the melas and bestow their blessings on worldly men and women.
       "I wasn't a swami at the time I met Babaji," Sri Yukteswar went on. "But I had already received Kriya initiation from Lahiri Mahasaya. He encouraged me to attend the mela which was convening in January, 1894 at Allahabad. It was my first experience of a kumbha; I felt slightly dazed by the clamour and surge of the crowd. In my searching gazes around I saw no illumined face of a master. Passing a bridge on the bank of the Ganges, I noticed an acquaintance standing near-by, his begging bowl extended.
       "'Oh, this fair is nothing but a chaos of noise and beggars,' I thought in disillusionment. 'I wonder if Western scientists, patiently enlarging the realms of knowledge for the practical good of mankind, aren't more pleasing to God than these idlers who profess religion but concentrate on alms.'
       "My smouldering reflections on social reform were interrupted by the voice of a tall sannyasi who halted before me.
       "'Sir,' he said, 'a saint is calling you.'
       "'Who is he?'
       "'Come and see for yourself.'
       "Hesitantly following this laconic advice, I soon found myself near a tree whose branches were sheltering a guru with an attractive group of disciples. The master, a bright unusual figure, with sparkling dark eyes, rose at my approach and embraced me.
       "'Welcome, Swamiji,' he said affectionately.
       "'Sir,' I replied emphatically, 'I'm not a swami.'
       "'Those on whom I'm divinely directed to bestow the title of "swami" never cast it off.' The saint addressed me simply, but deep conviction of truth rang in his words; I was engulfed in an instant wave of spiritual blessing. Smiling at my sudden elevation into the ancient monastic order, [1] I bowed at the feet of the obviously great and angelic being in human form who had thus honoured me.
       "Babaji-for it was indeed he-motioned me to a seat near him under the tree. He was strong and young, and looked like Lahiri Mahasaya; yet the resemblance didn't strike me, even though I had often heard of the extraordinary similarities in the appearance of the two masters. Babaji possesses a power by which he can prevent any specific thought from arising in a person's mind. Evidently the great guru wished me to be perfectly natural in his presence, not overawed by knowledge of his identity.
       "'What do you think of the Kumbha Mela?'
       "'I was greatly disappointed, sir.' I added hastily, 'Up till the time I met you. Somehow saints and this commotion don't seem to belong together.'
       "'Child,' the master said, though apparently I was nearly twice his own age, 'for the faults of the many, judge not the whole. Everything on earth is of mixed character, like a mingling of sand and sugar. Be like the wise ant which seizes only the sugar, and leaves the sand untouched. Though many sadhus here still wander in delusion, yet the mela is blessed by a few men of God-realisation.'
       "In view of my own meeting with this exalted master, I quickly agreed with his observation.
       "'Sir,' I commented, 'I've been thinking of the scientific men of the West, greater by far in intelligence than most people congregated here, living in distant Europe and America, professing different creeds, and ignorant of the real values of such melas as the present one. They are the men who could benefit greatly by meetings with India's masters. But, although high in intellectual attainments, many Westerners are wedded to rank materialism. Others, famous in science and philosophy, don't recognise the essential unity in religion. Their creeds serve as insurmountable barriers that threaten to separate them from us forever.'
       "'I saw that you're interested in the West, as well as the East.' Babaji's face beamed with approval. 'I felt the pangs of your heart, broad enough for all men, whether Oriental or Occidental. That's why I summoned you here.
       "'East and West must establish a golden middle path of activity and spirituality combined,' he continued. 'India has much to learn from the West in material development; in return, India can teach the universal methods by which the West will be able to base its religious beliefs on the unshakeable foundations of yogic science.
       "'You, Swamiji, have a part to play in the coming harmonious exchange between Orient and Occident. Some years hence I shall send you a disciple whom you can train for yoga dissemination in the West. The vibrations there of many spiritually seeking souls come flood-like to me. I perceive potential saints in America and Europe, waiting to be awakened.'"
       At this point in his story, Sri Yukteswar turned his gaze fully on mine.
       "My son," he said, smiling in the moonlight, "you're the disciple that, years ago, Babaji promised to send me."
       I was happy to learn that Babaji had directed my steps to Sri Yukteswar, yet it was hard for me to visualise myself in the remote West, away from my beloved guru and the simple hermitage peace.
       "Babaji then spoke of the Bhagavad Gita," Sri Yukteswar went on. "To my astonishment, he indicated by a few words of praise that he was aware of the fact that I had written interpretations on various Gita chapters.
       "'At my request, Swamiji, please undertake another task,' the great master said. 'Will you not write a short book on the underlying basic unity between the Christian and Hindu scriptures? Show by parallel references that the inspired sons of God have spoken the same truths, now obscured by men's sectarian differences.'
       "'Maharaj,' [2] I answered diffidently, 'what a command! Shall I be able to fulfil it?'
       "Babaji laughed softly. 'My son, why do you doubt?' he said reassuringly. 'Indeed, Whose work is all this, and Who's the Doer of all actions? Whatever the Lord has made me say is bound to materialise as truth.'
       "I deemed myself empowered by the blessings of the saint, and agreed to write the book. Feeling reluctantly that the parting-hour had arrived, I rose from my leafy seat.
       "'Do you know Lahiri?' [3] the master inquired. 'He is a great soul, isn't he? Tell him of our meeting.' He then gave me a message for Lahiri Mahasaya.
       "After I had bowed humbly in farewell, the saint smiled benignly. 'When your book is finished, I shall pay you a visit,' he promised. 'Good-by for the present.'
       "I left Allahabad the following day and entrained for Varanasi. Reaching my guru's home, I poured out the story of the wonderful saint at the Kumbha Mela.
       "'Oh, didn't you recognise him?' Lahiri Mahasaya's eyes were dancing with laughter. 'I see you couldn't, for he prevented you. He is my incomparable guru, the celestial Babaji!'
       "'Babaji!' I repeated, awe-struck. 'The yogi-Christ Babaji! The invisible-visible saviour Babaji! Oh, if I could just recall the past and be once more in his presence, to show my devotion at his lotus feet!'
       "'Never mind,' Lahiri Mahasaya said consolingly. 'He has promised to see you again.'
       "'Gurudeva, the divine master asked me to give you a message. "Tell Lahiri," he said, "that the stored-up power for this life now runs low; it's nearly finished."'
       "At my utterance of these enigmatic words, Lahiri Mahasaya's figure trembled as though touched by a lightning current. In an instant everything about him fell silent; his smiling countenance turned incredibly stern. Like a wooden statue, sombre and immovable in its seat, his body became colourless. I was alarmed and bewildered. Never in my life had I seen this joyous soul manifest such awful gravity. The other disciples present stared apprehensively.
       "Three hours passed in utter silence. Then Lahiri Mahasaya resumed his natural, cheerful demeanour, and spoke affectionately to each of the chelas. Everyone sighed in relief.
       "I realised by my master's reaction that Babaji's message had been an unmistakable signal by which Lahiri Mahasaya understood that his body would soon be untenanted. His awesome silence proved that my guru had instantly controlled his being, cut his last cord of attachment to the material world, and fled to his ever-living identity in Spirit. Babaji's remark had been his way of saying: 'I shall be ever with you.'
       "Though Babaji and Lahiri Mahasaya were omniscient, and had no need of communicating with each other through me or any other intermediary, the great ones often condescend to play a part in the human drama. Occasionally they transmit their prophecies through messengers in an ordinary way, that the final fulfilment of their words may infuse greater divine faith in a wide circle of men who later learn the story.
       "I soon left Varanasi, and set to work in Serampore on the scriptural writings requested by Babaji," Sri Yukteswar continued. "No sooner had I begun my task than I was able to compose a poem dedicated to the deathless guru. The melodious lines flowed effortlessly from my pen, though never before had I attempted Sanskrit poetry.
       "In the quiet of night I busied myself over a comparison of the Bible and the scriptures of Sanatan Dharma. [4] Quoting the words of the blessed Lord Jesus, I showed that his teachings were in essence one with the revelations of the Vedas. To my relief, my book was finished in a short time; I realised that this speedy blessing was due to the grace of my Param-Guru-Maharaj. [5] The chapters first appeared in the Sadhusambad journal; later they were privately printed as a book by one of my Kidderpore disciples.
       "The morning after I had concluded my literary efforts," Master continued, "I went to the Rai Ghat here to bathe in the Ganges. The ghat was deserted; I stood still for awhile, enjoying the sunny peace. After a dip in the sparkling waters, I started for home. The only sound in the silence was that of my Ganges-drenched cloth, swish-swashing with every step. As I passed beyond the site of the large banyan tree near the river bank, a strong impulse urged me to look back. There, under the shade of the banyan, and surrounded by a few disciples, sat the great Babaji!
       "'Greetings, Swamiji!' The beautiful voice of the master rang out to assure me I wasn't dreaming. 'I see you've successfully completed your book. As I promised, I'm here to thank you.'
       "With a fast-beating heart, I prostrated myself fully at his feet. 'Param-guruji,' I said imploringly, 'will you and your chelas not honour my near-by home with your presence?'
       "The supreme guru smilingly declined. 'No, child,' he said, 'we're people who like the shelter of trees; this spot is quite comfortable.'
       "'Please tarry awhile, master.' I gazed entreatingly at him. 'I shall be back at once with some special sweetmeats.'
       "When I returned in a few minutes with a dish of delicacies, lo! the lordly banyan no longer sheltered the celestial troupe. I searched all around the ghat, but in my heart I knew the little band had already fled on etheric wings.
       "I was deeply hurt. 'Even if we meet again, I wouldn't care to talk to him,' I assured myself. 'He was unkind to leave me so suddenly.' This was a wrath of love, of course, and nothing more.
       "A few months later I visited Lahiri Mahasaya in Varanasi. As I entered his little parlour, my guru smiled in greeting.
       "'Welcome, Yukteswar,' he said. 'Did you just meet Babaji at the threshold of my room?'
       "'Why, no,' I answered in surprise.
       "'Come here.' Lahiri Mahasaya touched me gently on the forehead; at once I beheld, near the door, the form of Babaji, blooming like a perfect lotus.
       "I remembered my old hurt, and didn't bow. Lahiri Mahasaya looked at me in astonishment.
       "The divine guru gazed at me with fathomless eyes. 'You're annoyed with me.'
       "'Sir, why shouldn't I be?' I answered. 'Out of the air you came with your magic group, and into the thin air you vanished.'
       "'I told you I would see you, but didn't say how long I would remain.' Babaji laughed softly. 'You were full of excitement. I assure you that I was fairly extinguished in the ether by the gust of your restlessness.'
       "I was instantly satisfied by this unflattering explanation. I knelt at his feet; the supreme guru patted me kindly on the shoulder.
       "'Child, you must meditate more,' he said. 'Your gaze isn't yet faultless-you couldn't see me hiding behind the sunlight.' With these words in the voice of a celestial flute, Babaji disappeared into the hidden radiance.
       "That was one of my last visits to Varanasi to see my guru," Sri Yukteswar concluded. "Even as Babaji had foretold at the Kumbha Mela, the householder-incarnation of Lahiri Mahasaya was drawing to a close. During the summer of 1895 his stalwart body developed a small boil on the back. He protested against lancing; he was working out in his own flesh the evil karma of some of his disciples. Finally a few chelas became very insistent; the master replied cryptically:
       "'The body has to find a cause to go; I'll be agreeable to whatever you want to do.'
       "A short time later the incomparable guru gave up his body in Varanasi. No longer need I seek him out in his little parlour; I find every day of my life blessed by his omnipresent guidance."
       Years later, from the lips of Swami Keshabananda, [6] an advanced disciple, I heard many wonderful details about the passing of Lahiri Mahasaya.
       "A few days before my guru relinquished his body," Keshabananda told me, "he materialised himself before me as I sat in my hermitage at Hardwar.
       "'Come at once to Varanasi.' With these words Lahiri Mahasaya vanished.
       "I entrained at once for Varanasi. At my guru's home I found many disciples assembled. For hours that day [7] the master expounded the Gita; then he addressed us simply.
       "'I'm going home.'
       "Sobs of anguish broke out like an irresistible torrent.
       "'Be comforted; I shall rise again.' After this utterance Lahiri Mahasaya thrice turned his body around in a circle, faced the north in his lotus posture, and gloriously entered the final maha-samadhi. [8]

 

       "Lahiri Mahasaya's beautiful body, so dear to the devotees, was cremated with solemn householder rites at Manikarnika Ghat by the holy Ganges," Keshabananda continued. "The following day, at ten o'clock in the morning, while I was still in Varanasi, my room was suffused with a great light. Lo! before me stood the flesh and blood form of Lahiri Mahasaya! It looked exactly like his old body, except that it appeared younger and more radiant. My divine guru spoke to me.
       "'Keshabananda,' he said, 'it's I. From the disintegrated atoms of my cremated body, I've resurrected a remodelled form. My householder work in the world is done; but I don't leave the earth entirely. Henceforth I shall spend some time with Babaji in the Himalayas, and with Babaji in the cosmos.'
       "With a few words of blessing to me, the transcendent master vanished. Wondrous inspiration filled my heart; I was uplifted in Spirit even as were the disciples of Christ and Kabir [9] when they had gazed on their living gurus after physical death.
       "When I returned to my isolated Hardwar hermitage," Keshabananda went on, "I carried with me the sacred ashes of my guru. I know he has escaped the spatio-temporal cage; the bird of omnipresence is freed. Yet it comforted my heart to enshrine his sacred remains."
       Another disciple who was blessed by the sight of his resurrected guru was the saintly Panchanon Bhattacharya, founder of the Calcutta Arya Mission Institution. [10]
       I visited Panchanon at his Calcutta home, and listened with delight to the story of his many years with the master. In conclusion, he told me of the most marvellous event in his life.
       "Here in Calcutta," Panchanon said, "at ten o'clock of the morning which followed his cremation, Lahiri Mahasaya appeared before me in living glory."
       Swami Pranabananda, the "saint with two bodies," also confided to me the details of his own supernal experience.
       "A few days before Lahiri Mahasaya left his body," Pranabananda told me at the time he visited my Ranchi school, "I received a letter from him, requesting me to come at once to Varanasi. I was delayed, however, and couldn't leave at once. As I was in the midst of my travel preparations, about ten o'clock in the morning, I was suddenly overwhelmed with joy to see the shining figure of my guru.
       "'Why hurry to Varanasi?' Lahiri Mahasaya said, smiling. 'You shall find me there no longer.'
       "As the import of his words dawned on me, I sobbed broken-heartedly, believing that I was seeing him only in a vision.
       "The master approached me comfortingly. 'Here, touch my flesh,' he said. 'I'm living, as always. Do not lament; am I not with you forever?'"
       From the lips of these three great disciples, a story of wondrous truth has emerged: At the morning hour of ten, on the day after the body of Lahiri Mahasaya had been consigned to the flames, the resurrected master, in a real but transfigured body, appeared before three disciples, each one in a different city.
       "So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that's written, Death is swallowed up in victory. death, where's your sting? grave, where's your victory?"

 

vitalcoaching.com, Artisans, 6, Crans, 1299, Switzerland


You may unsubscribe or change your contact details at any time.

Babaji, the yogi-christ of modern India

From Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda

 

THE NORTHERN Himalayan crags near Badrinarayan are still blessed by the living presence of Babaji, guru of Lahiri Mahasaya. The secluded master has retained his physical form for centuries, perhaps for millenniums. The deathless Babaji is an avatara. This Sanskrit word means "descent"; its roots are ava, "down," and tri, "to pass." In the Hindu scriptures, avatara signifies the descent of Divinity into flesh.
       "Babaji's spiritual state is beyond human comprehension," Sri Yukteswar explained to me. "The dwarfed vision of men can't pierce to his transcendental star. One attempts in vain even to picture the avatar's attainment. It's inconceivable."
       The Upanishads have minutely classified every stage of spiritual advancement. A siddha ("perfected being") has progressed from the state of a jivanmukta ("freed while living") to that of a paramukta ("supremely free"—full power over death); the latter has completely escaped from the mayic thraldom and its reincarnational round. The paramukta therefore seldom returns to a physical body; if he does, he is an avatar, a divinely appointed medium of supernal blessings on the world.
       An avatar is not subject to the universal economy; his pure body, visible as a light image, is free from any debt to nature. The casual gaze may see nothing extraordinary in an avatar's form but it casts no shadow nor makes any footprint on the ground. These are outward symbolic proofs of an inward lack of darkness and material bondage. Such a God-man alone knows the Truth behind the relativities of life and death. Omar Khayyam, so grossly misunderstood, sang of this liberated man in his immortal scripture, the Rubaiyat:

"Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane,
The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again;
How oft hereafter rising shall she look
Through this same Garden after me—in vain!"

The "Moon of Delight" is God, eternal Polaris, anachronous never. The "Moon of Heav'n" is the outward cosmos, fettered to the law of periodic recurrence. Its chains had been dissolved forever by the Persian seer through his self-realisation. "How oft hereafter rising shall she look . . . after me—in vain!" What frustration of search by a frantic universe for an absolute omission!

The rendering of Scott-Fitzgerald is not so good. The mature translation by Dr. Roberb Graves and Omar Ali-Shah is far better. Terms found in Fitzgerald's version disappear in the better one. [Check]

Christ expressed his freedom in another way: "And a certain scribe came, and said to him, master, I'll follow you wherever you go. And Jesus said to him, The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the son of man has nowhere to lay his head." [1]
       Spacious with omnipresence, could Christ indeed be followed except in the overarching Spirit?
       Krishna, Rama, Buddha, and Patanjali were among the ancient Indian avatars. A considerable poetic literature in Tamil has grown up around Agastya, a South Indian avatar. He worked many miracles during the centuries preceding and following the Christian era, and is credited with retaining his physical form even to this day.
       Babaji's mission in India has been to assist prophets in carrying out their special dispensations. He thus qualifies for the scriptural classification of Mahavatar (Great Avatar). He has stated that he gave yoga initiation to Shankara, ancient founder of the swami order, and to Kabir, famous medieval saint. His chief nineteenth-century disciple was, as we know, Lahiri Mahasaya, revivalist of the lost Kriya art.
       The Mahavatar is in constant communion with Christ; together they send out vibrations of redemption, and have planned the spiritual technique of salvation for this age. The work of these two fully-illumined masters—one with the body, and one without it—is to inspire the nations to forsake suicidal wars, race hatreds, religious sectarianism, and the boomerang-evils of materialism. Babaji is well aware of the trend of modern times, especially of the influence and complexities of Western civilisation, and realises the necessity of spreading the self-liberations of yoga equally in the West and in the East.
       That there's no historical reference to Babaji need not surprise us. The great guru has never openly appeared in any century; the misinterpreting glare of publicity has no place in his millennial plans. Like the Creator, the sole but silent Power, Babaji works in a humble obscurity.
       Great prophets like Christ and Krishna come to earth for a specific and spectacular purpose; they depart as soon as it's accomplished. Other avatars, like Babaji, undertake work which is concerned more with the slow evolutionary progress of man during the centuries than with any one outstanding event of history. Such masters always veil themselves from the gross public gaze, and have the power to become invisible at will. For these reasons, and because they generally instruct their disciples to maintain silence about them, a number of towering spiritual figures remain world-unknown. I give in these pages on Babaji merely a hint of his life—only a few facts which he deems it fit and helpful to be publicly imparted.
       No limiting facts about Babaji's family or birthplace, dear to the annalist's heart, have ever been discovered. His speech is generally in Hindi, but he converses easily in any language. He has adopted the simple name of Babaji (revered father); other titles of respect given him by Lahiri Mahasaya's disciples are Mahamuni Babaji Maharaj (supreme ecstatic saint), Maha Yogi (greatest of yogis), Trambak Baba and Shiva Baba (titles of avatars of Shiva). Does it matter that we know not the patronymic of an earth-released master?
       "Whenever anyone utters with reverence the name of Babaji," Lahiri Mahasaya said, "that devotee attracts an instant spiritual blessing."
       The deathless guru bears no marks of age on his body; he appears to be no more than a youth of twenty-five. Fair-skinned, of medium build and height, Babaji's beautiful, strong body radiates a perceptible glow. His eyes are dark, calm, and tender; his long, lustrous hair is copper-coloured. A very strange fact is that Babaji bears an extraordinarily exact resemblance to his disciple Lahiri Mahasaya. The similarity is so striking that, in his later years, Lahiri Mahasaya might have passed as the father of the youthful-looking Babaji.
       Swami Kebalananda, my saintly Sanskrit tutor, spent some time with Babaji in the Himalayas.
       "The peerless master moves with his group from place to place in the mountains," Kebalananda told me. "His small band contains two highly advanced American disciples. After Babaji has been in one locality for some time, he says: 'Dera danda uthao.' ('Let's lift our camp and staff.') He carries a symbolic danda (bamboo staff). His words are the signal for moving with his group instantaneously to another place. He doesn't always employ this method of astral travel; sometimes he goes on foot from peak to peak.
       "Babaji can be seen or recognised by others only when he so desires. He is known to have appeared in many slightly different forms to various devotees—sometimes without beard and moustache, and sometimes with them. As his undecaying body requires no food, the master seldom eats. As a social courtesy to visiting disciples, he occasionally accepts fruits, or rice cooked in milk and clarified butter.
       "Two amazing incidents of Babaji's life are known to me," Kebalananda went on. "His disciples were sitting one night around a huge fire which was blazing for a sacred Vedic ceremony. The master suddenly seized a burning log and lightly struck the bare shoulder of a chela who was close to the fire.
       "'Sir, how cruel!' Lahiri Mahasaya, who was present, made this remonstrance.
       "'Would you rather have seen him burned to ashes before your eyes, according to the decree of his past karma?'
       "With these words Babaji placed his healing hand on the chela's disfigured shoulder. 'I've freed you tonight from painful death. The karmic law has been satisfied through your slight suffering by fire.'
       "On another occasion Babaji's sacred circle was disturbed by the arrival of a stranger. He had climbed with astonishing skill to the nearly inaccessible ledge near the camp of the master.
       "'Sir, you must be the great Babaji.' The man's face was lit with inexpressible reverence. 'For months I've pursued a ceaseless search for you among these forbidding crags. I implore you to accept me as a disciple.'
       "When the great guru made no response, the man pointed to the rocky chasm at his feet.
       "'If you refuse me, I'll jump from this mountain. Life has no further value if I can't win your guidance to the divine.'
       "'Jump then,' Babaji said unemotionally. 'I can't accept you in your present state of development.'
       "The man at once hurled himself over the cliff. Babaji instructed the shocked disciples to fetch the stranger's body. When they returned with the mangled form, the master placed his divine hand on the dead man. Lo! he opened his eyes and prostrated himself humbly before the omnipotent one.
       "'You're now ready for discipleship.' Babaji beamed lovingly on his resurrected chela. 'You've courageously passed a difficult test. Death shall not touch you again; now you're one of our immortal flock.' Then he spoke his usual words of departure, 'Dera danda uthao'; the whole group vanished from the mountain."
       An avatar lives in the omnipresent Spirit; for him there's no distance inverse to the square. Only one reason, therefore, can motivate Babaji in maintaining his physical form from century to century: the desire to furnish humanity with a concrete example of its own possibilities. Were man never vouchsafed a glimpse of Divinity in the flesh, he would remain oppressed by the heavy mayic delusion that he can't transcend his mortality.
       Jesus knew from the beginning the sequence of his life; he passed through each event not for himself, not from any karmic compulsion, but solely for the upliftment of reflective human beings. His four reporter-disciples—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John—recorded the ineffable drama for the benefit of later generations.
       For Babaji, also, there's no relativity of past, present, future; from the beginning he has known all phases of his life. Yet, accommodating himself to the limited understanding of men, he has played many acts of his divine life in the presence of one or more witnesses. Thus it came about that a disciple of Lahiri Mahasaya was present when Babaji deemed the time to be ripe for him to proclaim the possibility of bodily immortality. He uttered this promise before Ram Gopal Muzumdar, that it might finally become known for the inspiration of other seeking hearts. The great ones speak their words and participate in the seemingly natural course of events, solely for the good of man, even as Christ said: "Father . . . I knew that you hear me always: but because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe that you've sent me." [2]
       During my visit at Ranbajpur with Ram Gopal, "the sleepless saint," [3] he related the wondrous story of his first meeting with Babaji.
       "I sometimes left my isolated cave to sit at Lahiri Mahasaya's feet in Varanasi," Ram Gopal told me. "One midnight as I was silently meditating in a group of his disciples, the master made a surprising request.
       "'Ram Gopal,' he said, 'go at once to the Dasasamedh bathing ghat.'
       "I soon reached the secluded spot. The night was bright with moonlight and the glittering stars. After I had sat in patient silence for awhile, my attention was drawn to a huge stone slab near my feet. It rose gradually, revealing an underground cave. As the stone remained balanced in some unknown manner, the draped form of a young and surpassingly lovely woman was levitated from the cave high into the air. Surrounded by a soft halo, she slowly descended in front of me and stood motionless, steeped in an inner state of ecstasy. She finally stirred, and spoke gently.
       "'I'm Mataji, [4] the sister of Babaji. I've asked him and also Lahiri Mahasaya to come to my cave tonight to discuss a matter of great importance.'
       "A nebulous light was rapidly floating over the Ganges; the strange luminescence was reflected in the opaque waters. It approached nearer and nearer till, with a blinding flash, it appeared by the side of Mataji and condensed itself instantly into the human form of Lahiri Mahasaya. He bowed humbly at the feet of the woman saint.
       "Before I had recovered from my bewilderment, I was further wonder-struck to behold a circling mass of mystical light travelling in the sky. Descending swiftly, the flaming whirlpool neared our group and materialised itself into the body of a beautiful youth who, I understood at once, was Babaji. He looked like Lahiri Mahasaya, the only difference being that Babaji appeared much younger, and had long, bright hair.
       "Lahiri Mahasaya, Mataji, and myself knelt at the guru's feet. An ethereal sensation of beatific glory thrilled every fibre of my being as I touched his divine flesh.
       "'Blessed sister,' Babaji said, 'I'm intending to shed my form and plunge into the infinite Current.'
       "'I have already glimpsed your plan, beloved Master. I wanted to discuss it with you tonight. Why should you leave your body?' The glorious woman looked at him beseechingly.
       "'What's the difference if I wear a visible or invisible wave on the ocean of my Spirit?'
       "Mataji replied with a quaint flash of wit. 'Deathless guru, if it makes no difference, then please don't ever relinquish your form.' [5]
       "'Be it so,' Babaji said solemnly. 'I'll never leave my physical body. It will always remain visible to at least a small number of people on this earth. The Lord has spoken His own wish through your lips.'
       "As I listened in awe to the conversation between these exalted beings, the great guru turned to me with a benign gesture.
       "'Fear not, Ram Gopal,' he said, 'you're blessed to be a witness at the scene of this immortal promise.'
       "As the sweet melody of Babaji's voice faded away, his form and that of Lahiri Mahasaya slowly levitated and moved backward over the Ganges. An aureole of dazzling light templed their bodies as they vanished into the night sky. Mataji's form floated to the cave and descended; the stone slab closed of itself, as if working on an invisible leverage.
       "Infinitely inspired, I wended my way back to Lahiri Mahasaya's place. As I bowed before him in the early dawn, my guru smiled at me understandingly.
       "'I'm happy for you, Ram Gopal,' he said. 'The desire of meeting Babaji and Mataji, which you've often expressed to me, has found at last a sacred fulfilment.'
       "My fellow disciples informed me that Lahiri Mahasaya had not moved from his dais since early the preceding evening.
       "'He gave a wonderful discourse on immortality after you had left for the Dasasamedh ghat,' one of the chelas told me. For the first time I fully realised the truth in the scriptural verses which state that a man of self-realisation can appear at different places in two or more bodies at the same time.
       "Lahiri Mahasaya later explained to me many metaphysical points concerning the hidden divine plan for this earth," Ram Gopal concluded. "Babaji has been chosen by God to remain in his body for the duration of this particular world cycle. Ages shall come and go—still the deathless master, [6] beholding the drama of the centuries, shall be present on this stage terrestrial."

 

For more, check

http://vitalcoaching.com/blogs/ba1/whoisbabaji.html

 

vitalcoaching.com, Artisans, 6, Crans, 1299, Switzerland


You may unsubscribe or change your contact details at any time.

Materializing a palace in the Himalayas

From Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda

 

"Babaji's first meeting with Lahiri Mahasaya is an enthralling story, and one of the few which gives us a detailed glimpse of the deathless guru."
       These words were Swami Kebalananda's preamble to a wondrous tale. The first time he recounted it I was literally spellbound. On many other occasions I coaxed my gentle Sanskrit tutor to repeat the story, which was later told me in substantially the same words by Sri Yukteswar. Both these Lahiri Mahasaya disciples had heard the awesome tale direct from the lips of their guru.
       "My first meeting with Babaji took place in my thirty-third year," Lahiri Mahasaya had said. "In the autumn of 1861 I was stationed in Danapur as a government accountant in the Military Engineering Department. One morning the office manager summoned me.
       "'Lahiri,' he said, 'a telegram has just come from our main office. You're to be transferred to Ranikhet, where an army post [1] is now being established.'
       "With one servant, I set out on the 500-mile trip. Travelling by horse and buggy, we arrived in thirty days at the Himalayan site of Ranikhet. [2]
       "My office duties were not onerous; I was able to spend many hours roaming in the magnificent hills. A rumour reached me that great saints blessed the region with their presence; I felt a strong desire to see them. During a ramble one early afternoon, I was astounded to hear a distant voice calling my name. I continued my vigorous upward climb on Drongiri Mountain. A slight uneasiness beset me at the thought that I might not be able to retrace my steps before darkness had descended over the jungle.
       "I finally reached a small clearing whose sides were dotted with caves. On one of the rocky ledges stood a smiling young man, extending his hand in welcome. I noticed with astonishment that, except for his copper-coloured hair, he bore a remarkable resemblance to myself.
       "'Lahiri, you've come!' The saint addressed me affectionately in Hindi. 'Rest here in this cave. It was I who called you.'
       "I entered a neat little grotto which contained several woollen blankets and a few kamandulus (begging bowls).
       "'Lahiri, do you remember that seat?' The yogi pointed to a folded blanket in one corner.
       "'No, sir.' Somewhat dazed at the strangeness of my adventure, I added, 'I must leave now, before nightfall. I have business in the morning at my office.'
       "The mysterious saint replied in English, 'The office was brought for you, and not you for the office.'
       "I was dumbfounded that this forest ascetic shouldn't only speak English but also paraphrase the words of Christ. [3]
       "'I see my telegram took effect.' The yogi's remark was incomprehensible to me; I inquired his meaning.
       "'I refer to the telegram that summoned you to these isolated parts. It was I who silently suggested to the mind of your superior officer that you be transferred to Ranikhet. When one feels his unity with mankind, all minds become transmitting stations through which he can work at will.' He added gently, 'Lahiri, surely this cave seems familiar to you?'
       "As I maintained a bewildered silence, the saint approached and struck me gently on the forehead. At his magnetic touch, a wondrous current swept through my brain, releasing the sweet seed-memories of my previous life.
       "'I remember!' My voice was half-choked with joyous sobs. 'You're my guru Babaji, who has belonged to me always! Scenes of the past arise vividly in my mind; here in this cave I spent many years of my last incarnation!' As ineffable recollections overwhelmed me, I tearfully embraced my master's feet.
       "'For more than three decades I've waited for you here-waited for you to return to me!' Babaji's voice rang with celestial love. 'You slipped away and vanished into the tumultuous waves of the life beyond death. The magic wand of your karma touched you, and you were gone! Though you lost sight of me, never did I lose sight of you! I pursued you over the luminescent astral sea where the glorious angels sail. Through gloom, storm, upheaval, and light I followed you, like a mother bird guarding her young. As you lived out your human term of womb-life, and emerged a babe, my eye was ever on you. When you covered your tiny form in the lotus posture under the Nadia sands in your childhood, I was invisibly present! Patiently, month after month, year after year, I've watched over you, waiting for this perfect day. Now you're with me! Lo, here's your cave, loved of yore! I've kept it ever clean and ready for you. Here's your hallowed asana-blanket, where you daily sat to fill your expanding heart with God! Behold there your bowl, from which you often drank the nectar prepared by me! See how I've kept the brass cup brightly polished, that you might drink again therefrom! My own, do you now understand?'
       "'My guru, what can I say?' I murmured brokenly. 'Where has one ever heard of such deathless love?' I gazed long and ecstatically on my eternal treasure, my guru in life and death.
       "'Lahiri, you need purification. Drink the oil in this bowl and lie down by the river.' Babaji's practical wisdom, I reflected with a quick, reminiscent smile, was ever to the fore.
       "I obeyed his directions. Though the icy Himalayan night was descending, a comforting warmth, an inner radiation, began to pulsate in every cell of my body. I marvelled. Was the unknown oil endued with a cosmic heat?
       "Bitter winds whipped around me in the darkness, shrieking a fierce challenge. The chill wavelets of the Gogash River lapped now and then over my body, outstretched on the rocky bank. Tigers howled near-by, but my heart was free of fear; the radiant force newly generated within me conveyed an assurance of unassailable protection. Several hours passed swiftly; faded memories of another life wove themselves into the present brilliant pattern of reunion with my divine guru.
       "My solitary musings were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. In the darkness, a man's hand gently helped me to my feet, and gave me some dry clothing.
       "'Come, brother,' my companion said. 'The master awaits you.'
       "He led the way through the forest. The sombre night was suddenly lit by a steady luminosity in the distance.
       "'Can that be the sunrise?' I inquired. 'Surely the whole night hasn't passed?'
       "'The hour is midnight.' My guide laughed softly. 'Yonder light is the glow of a golden palace, materialised here tonight by the peerless Babaji. In the dim past, you once expressed a desire to enjoy the beauties of a palace. Our master is now satisfying your wish, thus freeing you from the bonds of karma.' [4] He added, 'The magnificent palace will be the scene of your initiation tonight into kriya yoga. All your brothers here join in a paean of welcome, rejoicing at the end of your long exile. Behold!'
       "A vast palace of dazzling gold stood before us. Studded with countless jewels, and set amidst landscaped gardens, it presented a spectacle of unparalleled grandeur. Saints of angelic countenance were stationed by resplendent gates, half-reddened by the glitter of rubies. Diamonds, pearls, sapphires, and emeralds of great size and lustre were imbedded in the decorative arches.
       "I followed my companion into a spacious reception hall. The odour of incense and of roses wafted through the air; dim lamps shed a multicoloured glow. Small groups of devotees, some fair, some dark-skinned, chanted musically, or sat in the meditative posture, immersed in an inner peace. A vibrant joy pervaded the atmosphere.
       "'Feast your eyes; enjoy the artistic splendours of this palace, for it has been brought into being solely in your honour.' My guide smiled sympathetically as I uttered a few ejaculations of wonderment.
       "'Brother,' I said, 'the beauty of this structure surpasses the bounds of human imagination. Please tell me the mystery of its origin.'
       "'I'll gladly enlighten you.' My companion's dark eyes sparkled with wisdom. 'In reality there's nothing inexplicable about this materialisation. The whole cosmos is a materialised thought of the Creator. This heavy, earthly clod, floating in space, is a dream of God. He made all things out of His consciousness, even as man in his dream consciousness reproduces and vivifies a creation with its creatures.
       "'God first created the earth as an idea. Then He quickened it; energy atoms came into being. He co-ordinated the atoms into this solid sphere. All its molecules are held together by the will of God. When He withdraws His will, the earth again will disintegrate into energy. Energy will dissolve into consciousness; the earth-idea will disappear from objectivity.
       "'The substance of a dream is held in materialisation by the subconscious thought of the dreamer. When that cohesive thought is withdrawn in wakefulness, the dream and its elements dissolve. A man closes his eyes and erects a dream-creation which, on awakening, he effortlessly dematerialises. He follows the divine archetypal pattern. Similarly, when he awakens in cosmic consciousness, he will effortlessly dematerialise the illusions of the cosmic dream.
       "'Being one with the infinite all-accomplishing Will, Babaji can summon the elemental atoms to combine and manifest themselves in any form. This golden palace, instantaneously created, is real, even as this earth is real. Babaji created this palatial mansion out of his mind and is holding its atoms together by the power of his will, even as God created this earth and is maintaining it intact.' He added, 'When this structure has served its purpose, Babaji will dematerialise it.'
       "As I remained silent in awe, my guide made a sweeping gesture. 'This shimmering palace, superbly embellished with jewels, hasn't been built by human effort or with laboriously mined gold and gems. It stands solidly, a monumental challenge to man. [5] Whoever realises himself as a son of God, even as Babaji has done, can reach any goal by the infinite powers hidden within him. A common stone locks within itself the secret of stupendous atomic energy; [6] even so, a mortal is yet a powerhouse of divinity.'
       "The sage picked up from a near-by table a graceful vase whose handle was blazing with diamonds. 'Our great guru created this palace by solidifying myriads of free cosmic rays,' he went on. 'Touch this vase and its diamonds; they will satisfy all the tests of sensory experience.'
       "I examined the vase, and passed my hand over the smooth room-walls, thick with glistening gold. Each of the jewels scattered lavishly about was worthy of a king's collection. Deep satisfaction spread over my mind. A submerged desire, hidden in my subconsciousness from lives now gone, seemed simultaneously gratified and extinguished.
       "My stately companion led me through ornate arches and corridors into a series of chambers richly furnished in the style of an emperor's palace. We entered an immense hall. In the centre stood a golden throne, encrusted with jewels shedding a dazzling medley of colours. There, in lotus posture, sat the supreme Babaji. I knelt on the shining floor at his feet.
       "'Lahiri, are you still feasting on your dream desires for a golden palace?' My guru's eyes were twinkling like his own sapphires. 'Wake! All your earthly thirsts are about to be quenched forever.' He murmured some mystic words of blessing. 'My son, arise. Receive your initiation into the kingdom of God through kriya yoga.'
       "Babaji stretched out his hand; a homa (sacrificial) fire appeared, surrounded by fruits and flowers. I received the liberating yogic technique before this flaming altar.
       "The rites were completed in the early dawn. I felt no need for sleep in my ecstatic state, and wandered around the palace, filled on all sides with treasures and priceless objets d'art. Descending to the gorgeous gardens, I noticed, near-by, the same caves and barren mountain ledges which yesterday had boasted no adjacency to palace or flowered terrace.
       "Re-entering the palace, fabulously glistening in the cold Himalayan sunlight, I sought the presence of my master. He was still enthroned, surrounded by many quiet disciples.
       "'Lahiri, you're hungry.' Babaji added, 'Close your eyes.'
       "When I reopened them, the enchanting palace and its picturesque gardens had disappeared. My own body and the forms of Babaji and the cluster of chelas were all now seated on the bare ground at the exact site of the vanished palace, not far from the sunlit entrances of the rocky grottoes. I recalled that my guide had remarked that the palace would be dematerialised, its captive atoms released into the thought-essence from which it had sprung. Although stunned, I looked trustingly at my guru. I knew not what to expect next on this day of miracles.
       "'The purpose for which the palace was created has now been served,' Babaji explained. He lifted an earthen vessel from the ground. 'Put your hand there and receive whatever food you desire.'
       "As soon as I touched the broad, empty bowl, it became heaped with hot butter-fried luchis, curry, and rare sweetmeats. I helped myself, observing that the vessel was ever-filled. At the end of my meal I looked around for water. My guru pointed to the bowl before me. Lo! the food had vanished; in its place was water, clear as from a mountain stream.
       "'Few mortals know that the kingdom of God includes the kingdom of mundane fulfilments,' Babaji observed. 'The divine realm extends to the earthly, but the latter, being illusory, can't include the essence of reality.'
       "'Beloved guru, last night you demonstrated for me the link of beauty in heaven and earth!' I smiled at memories of the vanished palace; surely no simple yogi had ever received initiation into the august mysteries of Spirit amidst surroundings of more impressive luxury! I gazed tranquilly at the stark contrast of the present scene. The gaunt ground, the skyey roof, the caves offering primitive shelter-all seemed a gracious natural setting for the seraphic saints around me.
       "I sat that afternoon on my blanket, hallowed by associations of past-life realisations. My divine guru approached and passed his hand over my head. I entered the nirbikalpa samadhi state, remaining unbrokenly in its bliss for seven days. Crossing the successive strata of self-knowledge, I penetrated the deathless realms of reality. All delusive limitations dropped away; my soul was fully established on the eternal altar of the Cosmic Spirit. On the eighth day I fell at my guru's feet and implored him to keep me always near him in this sacred wilderness.
       "'My son,' Babaji said, embracing me, 'your role in this incarnation must be played on an outward stage. Prenatally blessed by many lives of lonely meditation, you must now mingle in the world of men.
       "'A deep purpose underlay the fact that you didn't meet me this time till you were already a married man, with modest business responsibilities. You must put aside your thoughts of joining our secret band in the Himalayas; your life lies in the crowded marts, serving as an example of the ideal yogi-householder.
       "'The cries of many bewildered worldly men and women have not fallen unheard on the ears of the Great Ones,' he went on. 'You've been chosen to bring spiritual solace through kriya yoga to numerous earnest seekers. The millions who are encumbered by family ties and heavy worldly duties will take new heart from you, a householder like themselves. You must guide them to see that the highest yogic attainments aren't barred to the family man. Even in the world, the yogi who faithfully discharges his responsibilities, without personal motive or attachment, treads the sure path of enlightenment.
       "'No necessity compels you to leave the world, for inwardly you've already sundered its every karmic tie. Not of this world, you must yet be in it. Many years still remain during which you must conscientiously fulfil your family, business, civic, and spiritual duties. A sweet new breath of divine hope will penetrate the arid hearts of worldly men. From your balanced life, they will understand that liberation is dependent on inner, rather than outer, renunciations.'
       "How remote seemed my family, the office, the world, as I listened to my guru in the high Himalayan solitudes. Yet adamantine truth rang in his words; I submissively agreed to leave this blessed haven of peace. Babaji instructed me in the ancient rigid rules which govern the transmission of the yogic art from guru to disciple.
       "'Bestow the kriya key only on qualified chelas,' Babaji said. 'He who vows to sacrifice all in the quest of the divine is fit to unravel the final mysteries of life through the science of meditation.'
       "'Angelic guru, as you've already favoured mankind by resurrecting the lost Kriya art, will you not increase that benefit by relaxing the strict requirements for discipleship?' I gazed beseechingly at Babaji. 'I pray that you permit me to communicate Kriya to all seekers, even though at first they can't vow themselves to complete inner renunciation. The tortured men and women of the world, pursued by the threefold suffering, [7] need special encouragement. They may never attempt the road to freedom if Kriya initiation be withheld from them.'
       "'Be it so. The divine wish has been expressed through you.' With these simple words, the merciful guru banished the rigorous safeguards that for ages had hidden Kriya from the world. 'Give Kriya freely to all who humbly ask for help.'
       "After a silence, Babaji added, 'Repeat to each of your disciples this majestic promise from the Bhagavad Gita: "Swalpamasya dharmasya, trayata mahato bhoyat"-"Even a little bit of the practice of this religion will save you from dire fears and colossal sufferings."' [8]
       "As I knelt the next morning at my guru's feet for his farewell blessing, he sensed my deep reluctance to leave him.
       "'There's no separation for us, my beloved child.' He touched my shoulder affectionately. 'Wherever you are, whenever you call me, I shall be with you instantly.'
       "Consoled by his wondrous promise, and rich with the newly found gold of God-wisdom, I wended my way down the mountain. At the office I was welcomed by my fellow employees, who for ten days had thought me lost in the Himalayan jungles. A letter soon arrived from the head office.
       "'Lahiri should return to the Danapur [9] office,' it read. 'His transfer to Ranikhet occurred by error. Another man should have been sent to assume the Ranikhet duties.'
       "I smiled, reflecting on the hidden crosscurrents in the events which had led me to this furthermost spot of India.
       "Before returning to Danapur, I spent a few days with a Bengali family at Moradabad. A party of six friends gathered to greet me. As I turned the conversation to spiritual subjects, my host observed gloomily:
       "'Oh, in these days India is destitute of saints!'
       "'Babu,' I protested warmly, 'of course there are still great masters in this land!'
       "In a mood of exalted fervour, I felt impelled to relate my miraculous experiences in the Himalayas. The little company was politely incredulous.
       "'Lahiri,' one man said soothingly, 'your mind has been under a strain in those rarefied mountain airs. This is some daydream you've recounted.'
       "Burning with the enthusiasm of truth, I spoke without due thought. 'If I call him, my guru will appear right in this house.'
       "Interest gleamed in every eye; it was no wonder that the group was eager to behold a saint materialised in such a strange way. Half-reluctantly, I asked for a quiet room and two new woollen blankets.
       "'The master will materialise from the ether,' I said. 'Remain silently outside the door; I shall soon call you.'
       "I sank into the meditative state, humbly summoning my guru. The darkened room soon filled with a dim aural moonlight; the luminous figure of Babaji emerged.
       "'Lahiri, do you call me for a trifle?' The master's gaze was stern. 'Truth is for earnest seekers, not for those of idle curiosity. It's easy to believe when one sees; there's nothing then to deny. Supersensual truth is deserved and discovered by those who overcome their natural materialistic scepticism.' He added gravely, 'Let me go!'
       "I fell entreatingly at his feet. 'Holy guru, I realise my serious error; I humbly ask pardon. It was to create faith in these spiritually blinded minds that I ventured to call you. Because you've graciously appeared at my prayer, please don't depart without bestowing a blessing on my friends. Unbelievers though they be, at least they were willing to investigate the truth of my strange assertions.'
       "'Very well; I'll stay awhile. I don't wish your word discredited before your friends.' Babaji's face had softened, but he added gently, 'Henceforth, my son, I shall come when you need me, and not always when you call me. [ [10]'
       "Tense silence reigned in the little group when I opened the door. As if mistrusting their senses, my friends stared at the lustrous figure on the blanket seat.
       "'This is mass-hypnotism!' One man laughed blatantly. 'No one could possibly have entered this room without our knowledge!'
       "Babaji advanced smilingly and motioned to each one to touch the warm, solid flesh of his body. Doubts dispelled, my friends prostrated themselves on the floor in awed repentance.
       "'Let halua [11] be prepared.' Babaji made this request, I knew, to further assure the group of his physical reality. While the porridge was boiling, the divine guru chatted affably. Great was the metamorphosis of these doubting Thomases into devout St. Pauls. After we had eaten, Babaji blessed each of us in turn. There was a sudden flash; we witnessed the instantaneous dechemicalisation of the electronic elements of Babaji's body into a spreading vaporous light. The God-tuned will power of the master had loosened its grasp of the ether atoms held together as his body; forthwith the trillions of tiny lifetronic sparks faded into the infinite reservoir.
       "'With my own eyes I've seen the conqueror of death.' Maitra, [12] one of the group, spoke reverently. His face was transfigured with the joy of his recent awakening. 'The supreme guru played with time and space, as a child plays with bubbles. I've beheld one with the keys of heaven and earth.'
       "I soon returned to Danapur. Firmly anchored in the Spirit, again I assumed the manifold business and family obligations of a householder."
       Lahiri Mahasaya also related to Swami Kebalananda and Sri Yukteswar the story of another meeting with Babaji, under circumstances which recalled the guru's promise: "I shall come whenever you need me."
       "The scene was a Kumbha Mela at Allahabad," Lahiri Mahasaya told his disciples. "I had gone there during a short vacation from my office duties. As I wandered amidst the throng of monks and sadhus who had come from great distances to attend the holy festival, I noticed an ash-smeared ascetic who was holding a begging bowl. The thought arose in my mind that the man was hypocritical, wearing the outward symbols of renunciation without a corresponding inward grace.
       "No sooner had I passed the ascetic than my astounded eye fell on Babaji. He was kneeling in front of a matted-haired anchorite.
       "'Guruji!' I hastened to his side. 'Sir, what are you doing here?'
       "'I'm washing the feet of this renunciate, and then I shall clean his cooking utensils.' Babaji smiled at me like a little child; I knew he was intimating that he wanted me to criticise no one, but to see the Lord as residing equally in all body-temples, whether of superior or inferior men. The great guru added, 'By serving wise and ignorant sadhus, I'm learning the greatest of virtues, pleasing to God above all others-humility.'"
 

vitalcoaching.com, Artisans, 6, Crans, 1299, Switzerland


You may unsubscribe or change your contact details at any time.