A compilation of various writings on Amrita by Nirodbaran, Amal, Udar, Huta, Nolini. Includes a translation of his memoirs originally written in Tamil.
IN MEMORY OF AMRITA
SPEAKING about Amrita, the first picture that comes to one's mind is his sense of humour, even at the age of 70 years, his wisdom, experience and the intense responsibility of yoga, instead of blunting his sense of humour only enhanced it as time passed. Here I could not draw a similarity between him and Sri Aurobindo. I once asked Sri Aurobindo about the source of his tremendous humour to which he replied in a mysterious manner 'Raso vai Sa' (He is indeed the Rasa). It looks as though Amrita had found an access to that secret. In the beginning, as I didn't know him closely, I was not aware of his deep sense of humour. Later his 'divine levity' totally charmed me. I used to wonder at the source of his eternal fountain of Rasa. At all times, in all activities, in everybody's company and even in the company of the Mother, his humour would burst forth. Not just jokes, nor fun but pun and wit sprang out of him as if Godess Saraswati herself supplied him with that. In front of the Mother when everyone was serious, silent and self-controlled, only Amrita was full of rasa always looking for a chance for humour. Mother responded to him sometimes with a smile, other times with a mock serious look and yet other times with an objection. And of course with other sadhaks around he used to be full of humour which brought smiles to depressed people and simple solutions to serious problems. Everyone always looked forward to his joyous company.
Does it simply mean that he had less work or less responsibility? Enter his room at any time and you'll see him seated working at his table in a white banian, slightly bent in his back with a serious bright forehead, a radiant face featured like a Deccan Brahmin. He had on his table many pens and pencils, bunch of keys and flowers adorning Mother's photos—all kept immediately arranged. Waking up early in the morning he would carefully make his bed, then go out to wash his dhoti and after his bath he would come out of the bathroom wearing a fresh dhoti in Tamil style. I've noticed a few washing their own dhotis regularly—Nolini, Amrita and Bala. Amrita started his work early at 6 a.m. in the morning and continued till 9 or 10 p.m. in the night. Bank work, M.O. work, letters from the sadhaks, responsibility of the domestic servants, taking houses on rent for the Ashramites, listening to innumerable complaints of the sadhaks, placing those
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before the Mother and bringing her answers orally or through letters were his works. If ever you had seen him at work, you would have had a lot of fun. One after another, persons would enter his room and come out of it. His room was rather a small one filled with almirahs and tables. Added to these was the constant flow of people some of whom would sit here and some would stand there while he sat on his small chair speaking to someone or signing a cheque or instructing some fellow sadhak. Someone worked on the typewriter beside him while on another table M.O. account was being done. It was as if he worked with hundred hands and mouths at a time. In all this he, however, kept up his inimitable humour with all those whom he received or bade farewell to. Everyone was happy and contented. "Amritada, Amritada, my letter Amritada." "Not as yet, tomorrow." "What again a servant problem?" "Not happy with your room?" "Not yet fully cured?" "Do you need to consult a doctor or not?" "Okay I shall ask the Mother." In all matters big or small we used to often hear him say, "I shall ask the Mother." We were reminded of Sri Ramakrishna who always said, "I shall ask the Mother." If you want to know about Karmayoga, sit for a while in Amrita's room. I am talking not of Karma, but Karmayoga. Without any fatigue or strain and without any relaxation he would untiringly maintain a warm friendliness with all, listening patiently to their innumerable demands and complaints and giving them simple solutions. It was his large- heartedness and kindliness that attracted all sadhaks and sadhikas towards him. Once when he was unwell, I heard a female voice in his room around 6 a.m. Incredible! Can't they spare him even at such times! I thought.
Then it was time to go to the Mother. Satinath carried various flower vases, plates, trays, etc. Then followed the tray of important documents to be given to the Mother. Finishing all the work Amrita came down about an hour later from the Mother. Few waited downstairs for the reply; to some others replies had to be sent. To take their letters, to bring information about the sick, to get permissions for interviews, to give blessing packets—this was his daily routine. In all this sometimes a letter regarding illness or some other matter got misplaced in the great pile of letters and there followed a desperate search for the missing letter.
The most fascinating aspect, however, was his relation with the Mother. How and when this relationship began can be known from
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his records in 'Smritikatha'. One thing that hasn't been mentioned but of which I heard was that when Sri Aurobindo asked the sadhaks when he had gone into seclusion to address her as 'Mother', Amrita was among the first few sadhaks to do so full-heartedly. His intimacy with the Mother ensued since then. His surrender to the Mother was like a child's. He accepted her instructions without a question or doubt. I've heard that the Mother very often reprimanded him but there was never any sign of gloom on his face. Just as much was her unending love and care for Amrita which was visible in all her words. How else could he radiate such an amount of sweetness to everyone around? He was childlike, always desirous of the Mother's touch. He would not do any work without asking the Mother, big or small. When sick he would depend totally on the Mother. Calling the doctor, giving medicine was all the Mother's responsibility. Long before, around 1930, I saw him offering his Pranam to the Mother. Chandulal and he were like brothers. Both used to do pranam at the Mother's feet, sharing her feet. It was an interesting scene—Amrita like a child. Likewise, I saw him in the later years, not offering pranams but discussing with the Mother details about property documents etc. He spoke French slowly, halting in between and often repeated 'Oui douce Mere' and added a few humorous touches here and there.
X used to ask a lot of money for his expenses. Mother used to grant it grudgingly. One day she expressed her dissatisfaction to Amrita. Next time when X came to Amrita's office for collecting the money, he saw Amrita leaving the office. X asked him, "When will you return?" Amrita answered, "When you would have left."
One day Mother told Amrita, "Whomever you see first in the morning, send him to call Dr. X." "All right Mother", replied Amrita. A little later he returned to the Mother who asked, "What's the matter?" "Mother, if it so happens that you are the first one I meet in the morning?" Mother laughed.
In his personal life he wouldn't take a single step without asking the Mother. What is to be done when he was sick, whether he should accept gifts from others etc.—even such small details he would ask
the Mother.
He seems to have had little knowledge about his body unlike Nolinida. 'He didn't know or may be he was indifferent about what to eat when he was sick or how not to tax his body when he was ill. Sometimes when I used to enquire about his health when unwell, his
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replies confirmed that he wasn't much bothered about his body. When he was suffering from heart-trouble, he once climbed up a three-storeyed building in order to attend a house-warming ceremony. I was flabbergasted!
It was hard to control one's laughter when he did his exercise. I remember, after the passing away of Sri Aurobindo, there was an awakening among the sadhaks that physical perfection has to be achieved. Thus Nolini, Amrita, Dilip, etc. took a firm decision to succeed in this unsurmountable yogic discipline. I heard that when Amrita first asked the Mother regarding this, she replied, 'stupid'.
A few days later when he asked the Mother a second time, he got the same answer. Attracted by others' example, he approached the Mother a third time, when she agreed. But before long his enthusiasm waned away. Mother had known about it obviously, hence she refused to permit him. However, the sight of Dilip and Amrita doing their exercise in the playground was so enjoyable that people used to gather specially to see them. In their shorts they did marching following neither any beat nor the line and hence were left behind. Instructed to turn right they would invariably turn to left.
Especially, it was quite an ordeal for them to get up quickly when squatting on the ground, leave alone the question of running along with others. Very soon they had to give up their well-intended plans. They were ready to forget their hopes of gaining the Supermind.
Towards the end his ponch protruded a little. He once asked me, "Is my ponch protruding? What is to be done?" His hesitant Bengali was very sweet to hear. It seems in the early years, Sri Aurobindo not only inspired him to learn Bengali but he even insisted that he must learn it. Likewise he had forced Amrita to cut off his tuft. There is an interesting anecdote regarding his tuft. Sri Aurobindo had deputed a couple of boys to cut off his tuft. Coming from a traditional Brahmin family, Amrita considered it a sin to cut it off. So, he managed to maintain its honour by escaping here and there. One day while he was fast asleep, it was cut off by Nolinida. Along with it the boundaries of his staunch orthodoxy too were destroyed. But the real benefit of this sacrifice was his liberation from marriage. It seems that Amrita's father was so depressed by this incident that he had to cancel his confirmed marriage proposal. Therefore it has to be concluded that having foreseen the possibility of a terrible tragedy, Sri Aurobindo did his best to get rid of Amrita's tuft.
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This humourous yet deeply insightful incident throws enough light on the sweet relationship between the Guru and the sadhak. Actually Amrita was then just a kid. It is simply amazing to think of his secret attraction for Sri Aurobindo even at that age! Just the very utterance of Sri Aurobindo's name gave him inexplicable joy. Disregarding the famous National leaders like Lal, Bal and Pal, he was enchanted by the very name of Sri Aurobindo. He longed to see him, to touch him, to be close to him—this inexplicable restlessness right at that tender age only goes to show that it was the result of his intimacy with Sri Aurobindo for several lives together. We cannot but believe this. This feeling gets confirmed when we read his 'Smritikatha'. His wonderful vision, standing beside the pond at dusk—reminds us of the Magis of the Bible. I had occasion to see him a couple of times with Sri Aurobindo. I remember once he had come with all his papers to Sri Aurobindo for his signature. He waited at the door for permission. Without it he wouldn't enter. He entered. Sri Aurobindo sat up. He squatted on the ground beside his bed just like a child, forwarding the papers. He said, "You have to sign here." "What should I write?" "Full name." Then showing several other places on different papers he said, "Only initials have to be given, A.G." Finally, after it was over, Sri Aurobindo asked him smilingly, "Is there anything else?" "No", he answered in a grave tone. He had controlled his eternal humour. I didn't understand why he did so. But I felt that as many times as he was pointing with his fingers at the places to be signed, his fingers were eager to have a little touch of Sri Aurobindo's finger. I've heard that in the early days of Ashram life, he used to pour water for Sri Aurobindo to wash his hands. Once, for some reason, when he got late, Sri Aurobindo kept waiting for him. A few months ago, I saw a dream: Amrita entered Sri Aurobindo's room; quite a healthy body, with his usual kurta on him. Sri Aurobindo was seated on his bed. Amrita said, "I want to do pranam." "All right." "No, not just pranam, I want to embrace you." Then Sri Aurobindo stood up and held him so tightly in an embrace that I was reminded of the embrace of Bheema.
This was our Amrita, so generous and kind-hearted, always eager for God's love and a devotee. His hunger for love got somewhat fulfilled when two of his nieces came to live here close to him. Whoever has seen this weakness of his heart, hridaya daurbalyam, I'm not using it in the sense of Gita—has realised how deep a love could be hidden in the cave of a Yogi's heart! One day when I entered
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his room all on a sudden, I saw him holding the hands of his niece who was upset for some reason. Seeing me he took off his hand. A bit embarrassed, I came out quickly, a little surprised.
His niece used to learn English from me. Very often he would enquire about her. One day he said, "You please teach her to write correct English so that she could assist me in my work." I don't know how much he was helped in his work but she had served him most faithfully during his illness. Talking about illness, when I first heard about his heart-trouble, I was worried, I knew that he had blood pressure and prostate problem but now there were signs of both. Towards the end, seeing his pale face, we used to discuss about him. Second time when I heard about his heart-attack, I felt very uneasy. That too passed. One day seeing him seated in his room early in the morning, I enquired about his health. "Quite well, but at times my sweet heart gives me some trouble." I laughed. That was his last humour. I didn't feel he was well at all. He looked very weak, pale, diminished. About two or three days later, around dusk, when I was studying, Bula suddenly came in and said, "Doctor, quick, quick. Amrita has fainted." I went and saw that everything was over. The bird had flown out of the cage.
Within moments the news reached everywhere. One and all started coming to visit him. Finally, the crowd of people had become so heavy that we had to close for the night and reopen in the morning. His last darshan went on for the whole morning—all the people of the Ashram, youngsters, children, important people from outside the Ashram and more importantly all the servants and the workers of the Ashram too. Everyone expressed their sadness through tears and flowers so much so that his deathbed had turned into a flowerbed.
Likewise, I remember his birthday. It was so memorable. Flowers, garlands and various gifts used to fill his room and he sat amidst all like the King of Spring with a smiling face, humorous speech and sweets in hand—as if it was a festive time of Ananda all around.
Mother said that when Amrita was 50 years of age, his soul wanted to leave his body and go back to its own kingdom. Mother arrested his departure for 20 more years and kept him engaged in Her work. Could he finish his assignment or owing to lack of strength in his old age his soul left the body? Whatever the reason, it seems he is always with the Mother and he feels satisfied to see his two nieces in close association with the Mother. His soul must be very happy with Mother but having lost him physically Ashram is sad and depressed. His office
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no more radiates as before. Tearfully eyes turn away from there. No more do we hear his warm salutation "Bonjour" inside the Ashram courtyard nor see him clad in a Bengali-styled dhoti and a clean banian. His sacred uncovered body in summer is not there any more. Ashram is now serious and solemn. Incessantly at work, yet ever- smiling, ever-greeting and fun-loving, Amrita's place will perhaps never be filled.
Nirodbaran
(Translated from Bengali original)
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