Sri Aurobindo came to Me

Preface

(First Edition)

Somebody said that this was an auto-biography. I hasten to disclaim the characterisation at the very out-set.

I have only reminisced about my Gurudev, Sri Aurobindo, as I hope will be obvious to any reader. An auto-biography has a purpose which goes beyond the purview of reminiscences. Besides, I have, in the main, confined my reactions to and reflections on the great personality who inspired them with but one end in view: to bring out his greatness as it dawned on me and grew with my own growth in the course of my day-to day spiritual struggles and aspiration. In other words, I have essayed to portray, by and large, my interactions with him in the context of an Ashram life.

But interactions are born of a contact, or shall I say an impact, between two persons; so I had to thrust myself in, as otherwise I could not possibly write anything really worth while. I believe, however, that what I have written is worth while not because of the part I came to play in what I can only call a drama, but because through my conflicts and strivings an aspect of his incredible self came to the fore, a self whose flowering neither the mood of our age not the climate of our expectations could explain and, still less foster. His efflorescence may, indeed, be looked upon as an inexplicable freak of nature — not in the sense a genius often is, but in the sense of a seer of starry verities. For I fully agree with a modem appraiser who writes after referring to prophets "from Kirkegard down to Buber" that "while men of their calibre may be expected in every century, Sri Aurobindo is an event over which Divine Providence is a thousand times more tardy."*

*Quoted from The Philosophy of Sri Aurobindo, a paper read before the London Personalist Group in June, 1950 by Morwenna Donnelly and published subsequently in Sri Aurobindo Circle Annual, 1951.

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But even the warmest tributes cause me, personally, a pang along with a thrill. For I know that the world cannot possibly have any adequate vision, at the present stage of its evolution, of the almost unbelievable greatness of one who came to us incognito and departed unrecognised by all except a handful.

But then, as one looks back, does not one wonder if the purblindness of the multitude might not be part of the plan, being, indeed, the "cross" the lonely man of God receives every time he gives humanity a "crown"?^† So why regret? One might as well regret the impotence of the senses to contemplate interstellar space or — in the words of Sri Ramakrishna — of the "doll of salt" to plumb the ocean. The hiatus between a seer-poet and mediocrity is, if anything, greater. That is why they never once "woke up when He came and sat close to them" — to exploit a simile of Tagore's. And then did not Sri Aurobindo himself give us his own vision of humanity:

The conscious doll is pushed a hundred ways And feels the push but not the hands that drive.

(Savitri II. V)

So what is of importance is to know whether the "doll" is, in any given instance, pushed up (and not down) till it rises to a point where it can glimpse the "hands" behind the "drive". Until that point is reached, he says, only

( Savitri I. IV)

A few shall see what none yet understands;

God shall grow up while wise men talk and sleep;

For man shall not know the coming till the hour And belief shall be not till the work is done.

In other words, whatever our rationalist judges may adjudicate to the contrary, the divine ascension shall continue since God

The Cross their payment for the crown they gave.

Savitri, II

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who is not a myth has decided to grow up in our evolving consciousness till all can see what the "few" today prophesy. And when that day dawns it shall be recognised how the hour of blessed vision was made to strike centuries sooner because of the sleepless invocation of Sri Aurobindo through a life-time of superhuman sadhana.

Which does not mean that till the Bell tolls all we can do is to wait in supine helplessness. Each of us, however small or insignificant in isolation, has apart assigned to him in the cosmic scheme — a part which he must play if he has to pay his debt to God who

... has made this tenement of flesh His own,

His image in the human measure cast

That to His divine nature we might rise."*

And the final fulfilment will then come because

"The Ruler there is one with all He rules.

It is not contended that we never heard of this. But those who believe in the dynamic power of Truth intimately realised in life, must concede that we cannot hear too often of divine verities attested by a voice that is moved to utterance by the compelling vision. And has there been, in our age, a Voice vibrant than that of the lonely Herald who sang because he could not do otherwise, having seen what he had seen:

Even grief has joy hidden beneath its roots:

For nothing is truly vain the One has made:

In our defeated hearts God's strength survives And victory's star still lights our desperate road;

Our death is made a passage to new worlds.

At all events, those whose hearts are set aflame by his call of Fire must believe what he proclaimed as a pledge of the New Sunrise and prescribed as the Way to the gleaming Goal. It is the least they can do. Whether others will follow suit, in the

*Savitri, I IV ibid II. IV ibid II. VI

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near future or far, we do not know. Only one thing we do know, namely, that if and when they do, they will have collaborated with him and that whoever so responds may deem himself blessed in the measure of his response.

I must now say a few words about our Ashram if only to bring out the background of our life and sadhana.

The Ashram as we know it was born on a definite day: the 24th of November, 1926. Before that date — and ever since Sri Aurobindo came to Pondicherry, in 1910 — only a handful of spiritual seekers stayed with him as his disciples and looked up to him alone. In those pre-Ashram days Sri Aurobindo used to talk freely with his disciples who were dependent on him in every way and was, besides, available to some visitors if not to all. (That is why I could have the two long talks with him in 1924 which were published subsequently in my Among the Great.)

Since 1926, however, the landscape changed as he went into seclusion and the Mother came out of hers to take personal charge of the Ashram which has been under her management all these years. From 1926 till the end of 1938, none except she could see him. Since 1938, however, he consented to have a few personal attendants and about half-a-dozen of his disciples were allowed to serve him daily. These could talk to him now and then and convey to him, when the occasion demanded, messages from outside. In recent years a few visitors were, indeed, permitted to talk to him, but interviews have been rarely allowed.

Now about the darshans.

Sri Aurobindo used to come out only four times a year:

On February 21— the Mother's birthday.

On April 24 — the day she came to Pondicherry for good about thirty years ago.

On August 15 — Sri Aurobindo's own birthday.

On November 24 — the birthday of the Ashram.

The celebrations on each of these days were crowned by Sri Aurobindo's darshan which means, in Sanskrit, a vision: in other words, a coming out to be seen by visitors and disciples. Those

who came — from all parts of the world — had to form a queue along with us, the Ashram members. One by one, we went up to his sanctum sanctorum and filed past, every visitor or disciple, taking but a few seconds. Sri Aurobindo and the Mother sat side by side and blessed each as he (or she) approached and stood in front of them for a little before passing on. Those who came were neither asked nor expected to comply with any formality: the whole function was marked by a signal lack of ceremony or anything even distantly resembling a ritual: no one was called upon to fulfil any condition save that of silence and not standing too long gazing at Gurudev and the Mother.

I need hardly add anything more except that in the Ashram men and women enjoy the same status and freedom subject only to a few basic rules and regulations which had to be formulated to preserve order, cleanliness and a certain amount of discipline. Those who want further information about Sri Aurobindo's Yoga and its aims are recommended to an Ashram publication entitled, Sri Aurobindo and His Ashram; this booklet has been sponsored by Sri Aurobindo himself.

Sri Aurobindo Ashram

Pondicherry. D. K. R.

May 1951

Preface

(Second Edition)

Sri Aurobindo passed away all too suddenly, on December 5, 1950. I was at the time busy organising a charity concert in Varanasi to collect funds for his Pondicherry Ashram.

I came back and then after a few months started writing how Sri Aurobindo Came to Me unexpectedly to wean me from my moorings. To be able to tell my story truthfully in all its heart-searchings and tussles, hopes and fears, vacillations and exaltations, I had to recount how I had reacted to different personalities and incidents. More than a decade had passed since then and much water has flowed down the unpredictable river of my life, resulting, naturally, in a change of perspective: many things which appeared to me important then seem unimportant and pointless now. So, in the present edition, I have been forced — somewhat against my will — to cut out much that is not germane to my theme, to wit, the delineation of the multi-mooded personality of Sri Aurobindo, the intellectual, revolutionary, dreamer, Yogi, philosopher, seer poet and lastly — in his own words: "Messenger of the Incommunicable".

Today, thirteen years after his passing, I have had to reappraise him, reviewing him from angles I could not have achieved at the time, when my personal grief for my irreparable loss was too great to allow me to see clearly through the mist of my tears. Now I can do so, and I am happy to be able to claim honestly that he has greatly increased in stature in my estimation. But it is not only this personal estimate that I have been at pains to present today. I want also to help others to see in him — as the world is beginning to recognise — greatest seer-poet of our time and the holiest Herald of a New Sunrise of the Spirit.

This being my chief reason for republishing these

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reminiscences about Gurudev, I have added a few more new revealing letters and incidents and omitted a few redundant chapters so that our eyes may be focussed on him and him alone. So, I trust that those whom I have left out in the present edition will not misunderstand my deletion. I have never been one to forget a debt which I hope to be able to prove in the near future when I propose to write about what I owed to them individually in a haven where I passed some of my happiest years, thanks to their loving kindness, sympathy and cooperation.

One last word: I wanted to write more about Sri Aurobindo's epic poem, Savitri which, I am persuaded, is going to be acclaimed in the near future as the greatest epic after the Mahabharat and Ramayan. But as I propose to write a book on the Vision of Savitri, I have confined myself to telling more about his greatness than I could twelve years ago.

1.3.63 D.K.R.

Krishnaprem wrote to me about Savitri: "Such poetry can only be written either in the early days before the rise to power of self-conscious mind or, when that particular cycle has run its course and life establishes itself once more in the unity beyond, this time with all the added range and power that has been gained during the reign of mind. It is an omen of the utmost significance and hope that in these years of darkness and despair such a poem as Savitri should have appeared. Let us salute the Dawn."

* Professor Raymond F. Piper of Syracuse University writes: "The cosmic poem Savitri, in 23813 lines of exquisite English blank verse is probably the greatest epic in any language". (INTEGRAL PHILOSOPHY OF SRI AUROBINDO — George Alien and Unwin, P. 125).

Preface

(Third Edition)

I feel exhilarated to think that my humble tribute to Sri Aurobindo, the Messianic "treasurer of superhuman dreams" has been hailed by thousands of discerning seekers in India and abroad. It is, indeed, significant that in these days — when anything spectacular is greeted with a fanfare as a godlike feat, a gentle colossus like Sri Aurobindo can still be acclaimed by aspirants of all climes as a modem Prometheus of the Soul's latent fire waiting its hour to out flash an Era of Light. When I .envision, his radiant face in my meditation I am constantly re- minded of Chesterton's memorable lines:

To have seen you and your unforgettable Face,

Brave as a blast of trumpets for the fray,

Pure as white lilies in a watery space,

It were something, though you went from me today.

Lo, blessed are our ears for they have heard;

Yea, blessed are our eyes for they have seen:

Let thunder break on man and beast and bird and the lightning. It is something to have been.

April 10, 69

D.K.R.

* A colonist from Immortality, A treasurer of superhuman dreams. ( Savitri, I, III ).