Tribute to Amrita on his Birth Centenary

Amrita-da

(Born: 19.9.1895, Died: 31.1.1969)

IN A VILLAGE about 15 km north-west of Pondicherry, a boy called Aravamudachari heard the name Aurobindo along with other great names like Bal Gangadhar Tilak, Bepin Chandra Pal and Lala Lajpatrai. It was the time when Independence, Foreign Rule, Slavery were the cries that filled the skies and those names reached the ears of the village-boy too, being continually talked of in that village and all around. But strangely enough, and probably not all that strange after all, since decreed by the Divine, Aravamudachari's heart and soul were caught by only one name...just to hear that name—Aurobindo—was enough.

It remained a mystery to the boy for many days to come as to why that one name alone out of the four touched him so deeply.

Then, a few years later, he came to Pondicherry for his studies. Sri Aurobindo also arrived here in 1910. What a coincidence! The teen-ager was full of joy, thrilled with delight.

Then a strong desire arose in him that he had to see Sri Aurobindo. Day after day, night after night, that was his one thought à la Paul Eluard:

"Sur mes cahiers d'écolier...sur toutes les pages lues...sur les images dorées...sur la jungle et le désert...sur les merveilles des nuits...sur tous mes chiffons d'azur...sur les champs, sur l'horizon...sur chaque bouffée d'aurore...sur la mousse des nuages...sur les formes scintillantes...sur les sentiers eveillés...sur la lampe qui s'allume...sur le fruit coupé en deux... sur mon chien gourmand et tendre...sur le tremplin de ma porte...sur toute chair accordée...sur la vitre des surprises... sur mes refuges détruits...sur l'absence sans désir...

Sur la santé revenue

Sur le risque disparu

Sur l'espoir sans souvenir

J'écris ton nom

Et par le pouvoir d'un mot

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Je recommence ma vie

Je suis népour te connaître

Pour te nommer

Liberté ."

(Upon the note-books of my school... upon the pages already read...upon the golden pictures... upon the jungle and the desert...upon the marvels of the night...upon the bits of the sky...upon the field and the horizon... upon each blast of the dawn... upon the moss of the clouds... upon the scintillating forms... upon the awakened track... upon the lighted lamp... upon the fruit cut into two... upon my gentle greedy dog... upon my door-mat... upon the assembly of bodies in affection... upon the window of surprise... upon my shelter shattered ... upon the absence detached...

Upon the health regained

Upon the risk overcome

Upon the unremembered hope

I write your name

And by the power of word

I begin a new life

I am born to know you,

To name you

Liberty.)

Only "Liberty" was replaced or rather surpassed by "Aurobindo".

Finally one day, at about six in the evening, he along with his friend Krishnaswami Chettiar* proceeded towards Sri Aurobindo's house on Mission Street close to the Dupleix Street extending backward down to the Rue de la Canteen on the East. When they reached the house, they found the door bolted. They hesitatingly knocked at the door.

* Krishnaswamy Chettiar "was a well-to-do man of Muthialpet and a great devotee of Bharati—the great poet and national worker.... He knew neither English nor French, His only medium of communication was his mother-tongue, Tamil. He had a kind of instinctive respect for Sri Aurobindo because of Bharati's association. He would now and then go and stand a little away and have his Darshan..."

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All on a sudden the door opened and was left ajar. Sri Aurobindo had come quietly and turned back immediately as the door opened. They did not have a glimpse of his face. But in that fading twilight only his long hair hanging gracefully down his back and his indescribably beautiful small feet caught the boy's eye! His heart throbbed within as though he had been lifted up into the region of the gods!

Then followed some years of preparation—"a pilgrimage to Sri Aurobindo" when each of his acts, each event of his life "had become, as it were, offerings in the sacrifice done unknowingly" by him; and in the core of his heart burnt a living faith incessant and unwavering, that somehow some day he would have his Darshan.

He had Sri Aurobindo's Darshan at last on the 15th of August 1913 and felt within that Sri Aurobindo had accepted him—and he went home with the image of Sri Aurobindo installed in the sanctum sanctorum of his being. This boy, Aravamudachari, was none but our beloved Amrita-da**!!

What is amrita? It is nectar—the divine potion. When you take a sip of it you transcend death, that is to say, become immortal:

"There is a brighter ether than this blue...

There we can walk and the gods go by

And sip from Hebe's cup nectar enough

To make for us heavenly limbs and deathless face."

But when Maitreyee poses that famous reply to Yajñyavalkya: yena nāham amrta syām kimaham tena kuryām (What shall I do with those things which will not make me immortal?) Here amrta means immortal.

In Amrita-da's case it is true both ways. He was so sweet to one and all—whether an Ashramite or a visitor—that one felt like saying:

"Oh! he is really sweetness personified, the nectar-sweetness, justifying his name."

And who can ever forget such a sweet personality as his? To all those who had any occasion to come in personal contact with him, his face, beaming with a smile, remains ever fresh in their memory—and he remains Amrita, the immortal, even in death, even without a physical body.

** The late K. Amrita, Manager-Trustee, Sri Aurobindo Ashram whose centenary falls this year i.e. 1995.

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When I came to the Ashram for the first time, in 1963 as a visitor, I was moved to the core at this unique creation of the Mother i.e. the Ashram and fell in love at first sight with the giant twins of the Mother—Nolini-Amrita—knowledge and devotion condensed respectively so to say in two human forms. If one is august and aloof, the other is so pleasantly near.

With me Amrita-da repeated only one joke many a times: "Satadal, I wonder when will you become Sahasradal!" And he would be all smiles. Should I call it a joke? Who knows, it might have some deeper significance.

In fact his whole life was an example of becoming more and more conscious, guided at each step by the dual incarnation i.e. Sri Aurobindo and the Mother. In his reminiscences ("Old Long Since"), he speaks of his "life's pilgrimage" as an "interminable flaming journey" where "the series of small changes" were brought about in him by the action of light. When Himansu-da (Himansu Neogi) requested Nolini-da to write a preface for these reminiscences translated into Bengali by Amalesh (Bhattacharya) to be published in book-form, Nolini-da's reply was so deeply sweet and full of rasa at the same time—

Himansu—

What preface can I give for Amrita's writings? Let me better remain silent. Only this much I can say: This is Amrita.

—Nolini-da

The book titled "Sei Kabe" was published on his 75th birthday, the 19th September 1969 (the very same year in which he passed away on the 31st of January) with these words of Nolini-da followed by one of his talks on Amrita-da, "Amrita-Kathā", as a sort of introduction. There Nolini-da before reading out a poem by Amrita-da, speaks about the other book by Amrita-da, namely, Visions and Voices thus:

"I am going to read out a small poem by Amrita. This is the last bit of his writings written on the occasion of my birthday (probably the 13th January, 1969, the very same month in which Amrita-da passed away). But that is an occasion only for expressing some pinches of the secret mystery of his soul's pilgrimage. In fact that is more or less the picture of pilgrimage of all souls towards the Divine.

"Amrita named them as Visions and Voices and I am going to take this opportunity to tell you how they were written. Indeed these are literally visions and voices and not just poetics or allegory.

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"Nearly half a century ago, when we were more or less young—and Amrita at least was fresh green—we used to have an evening-stroll on the beach. We used to go up to the end of the jetty to sit as if on the sea for a talk or individual meditation. One day, i.e. one evening, when Amrita was sitting still—he told me all this afterwards—he felt that he was hearing a voice coming from beyond the sea, from the distant horizon...coming nearer and nearer...at first faint and soft but as it drew near, it became more clear and loud. As if a sonorous message was coming to him on the wings of the wind—sweet and rhythmic. As if someone recited to him a whole poem. After hearing the whole of it, he hurried home to write it down. This was the first poem with which started his book Visions and Voices. Another day, when we were on the same table around Sri Aurobindo (in the Guest House)—suddenly Amrita said that he was hearing a message. He went downstairs and closeted himself in his room. After some time he returned with a complete poem written by him. And about the poem he said that many words in it were completely new to him—he did not know their meanings. His brain turned into an instrument so to say for the external manifestation of something.

"Besides hearing voices, he got the eyes to see visions of things and happenings as if on a celluloid screen. He had put these down later in black and white as vividly as possible. Some of these were included in his book, the only book written by him in English. The poem of his which I am going to read out now is suffused with that dual mystery of visions and voices."

So saying, Nolini-da read out the poem "Pilgrim Way" by Amrita-da which starts with "A pilgrim in search of his destined companion..." and culminates in finding and complete self-giving thus:

"My little vanishing 'I' trudges

Still on, on. The moving mansion

glides on the wide, wide track

towards 'the Dawn' proclaimed

under the pale grey sky, the faint

few stars disappearing

under the broad everlasting day.

Voices are heard singing in chorus:

Of the Mother's substance we are

In Her Light we see, we live,

In Her Strength we act,

In Her we become........"

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Then Nolini-da said:

"Now I am going to read out my translation into Bengali of the same. When I had read out his original and my translation to him, you know what he commented? He said, it was difficult to differentiate between the original and the translation! Such was his charming modesty and unique sense of humour."

The year 1914 comes to Amrita's memory thus: "On July 28 of this very year the First World War broke out. On August 15 the first issue of the Arya saw the light of day in English and French versions. In this 1914 indeed the foundation was laid of my close contact with Sri Aurobindo. And in this same year I began feeling like a simple child the Mother's continuous affection." This "simple child", when prostrated at the lotus feet of the Master for the first time, "lay there body, life and mind all together a single block." Sri Aurobindo touched him with his flower-like hands and made him stand up. And he burst into sobs as he clasped the sole lord of his being.

Thus consecrated, this "being"—a very special being in- deed—continued his pilgrimage throughout his life as "Amrita" and continues to move on and on towards the Infinite and the Eternal and probably now reflects:

"I have drunk deep of God's own liberty...

Abolishing death and time my nature lives

In the deep heart of immortality."

Satadal