Sri Aurobindo - The Smiling Master

Chapter 17

The Smiling Master

At last we have come to the end of our book which has principally dealt with Sri Aurobindo's humour. We may now delightfully take leave of the Smiling Master. It has by now been made manifestly clear that Sri Aurobindo comes to us not only as the Day-bringer who floods us with his Light and Wisdom, not merely as the unparalleled Guide on the arduous and austere path of the Integral Yoga, but also as an intimate loving Companion who not only enlightens us but cheers our weary care-laden heart all the way. His is the infinite human kindliness spiced with a rich flavour of delectable humour, which brings an enlivening smile to our lips even when we groan under the heavy load of the twists and turns of our lower nature.

All these have been shown in the course of our present work. But while putting a Finis to our book we are mildly troubled by two misgivings which we deem it necessary to dispel here and now.

The first misgiving concerns the possible effect, in the readers' mind, of the surfeit of humorous material that has formed the body of this book. For its proper enjoyment, humour, like the use of idioms, should be sparingly sprinkled in a sustained composition; it should not on any account be turned into the staple diet for the readers' nourishment; it may then very well lead to aesthetic nausea.

We feel tempted to quote here the significant remarks that Prof. K. Subrahmanian has made on the ticklish subject of the proper use of idioms:

"Idioms should be used judiciously. Idioms are like sweets. We enjoy eating sweets occasionally. We can't live on sweets. We live on our staple diet. Ordinary language is like the staple diet and idioms are like sweets. A speech or writing full of idioms would sound odd.... Here is an extract from a dialogue I

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wrote some years ago:

'How are you?'

'Fit as a fiddle.'

'How is your father?'

'In the pink of health.'

'How is your uncle?'

'He has one foot in the grave.'

'Your aunt?'

'She kicked the bucket a year ago.'

'Why do you speak like this? Are you so fond of idioms?'

'I am head over heels in love with them.'...

"If you speak or write in this manner, you will be considered-idiotic. Incidentally, 'idiom' and 'idiotic' are from the same root. Both are 'peculiar'."¹

Now the above observations vis-a-vis the employment of idioms apply equally to the case of the introduction of humour in the body of a writing. The fact is that the humorous element appears only once in a blue moon in individual writings of Sri Aurobindo. But the present work being avowedly a book on Sri Aurobindo's humour we could not help collecting all the significant passages of the Master's humour and bringing them under the same roof. The inevitable result is that they are jostling there against each other without any breathing space in between. A second piece of humour appears on the scene in quick succession, even before the reader has had sufficient time to make the adequate acquaintance of the preceding one. This is apt to lead the reader to an aesthetic fatigue.

But, given the nature the book, this phenomenon of excess of humour could not possibly be avoided. We may, however, advise the readers not to read the book as a book of fiction but to savour it piece by piece, a little at a time. In that way they will surely derive the maximum enjoyment from the perusal of this book.

Our second misgiving is of a more serious character. This is

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as regards the possible impression that the readers may form in their mind vis-a-vis the general nature of Sri Aurobindo's writings.

No problem will, of course, arise for those amongst our readers who have already studied some principal works of the Master. For them the present book will rather present an unexpected but delightful revelation of the radiantly smiling side of Sri Aurobindo. And this will afford them a welcome relief from the sense of overpowering awe that his more well-known writings must have engendered in them.

But a possible misunderstanding may strike those other readers who will have their first introduction to Sri Aurobindo only through this present work. So much of humour packed between the two covers of a single book may unwittingly create this impression in their mind that, who knows, Sri Aurobindo was perhaps basically a humorous writer - which is not at all true to fact.

Sri Aurobindo was not a humorous writer nor was he humorously expansive by nature in the social sense of the term. In spite of his innate love of humour and laughter, in spite of "the all-too-lovable human side of his personality" — to quote the magnificent phrase of Dilip Kumar -, Sri Aurobindo was in his outer bearing a person of great reserve. As DK has himself noted:

"When I cast about for solid data, I must admit that I cannot name anyone in the Ashram with whom he cracked jokes in this way [as with me] without any reserve whatsoever. There was only one other with whom he was equally free: Nirod. But when he sparred with his doctor disciple, assuredly quite another side of his nature found expression albeit I find it difficult to label. For he was nothing if not incalculable. All the same, I may not be far out if I say that what expressed itself through his letters to Nirod was his love of raillery oscillating between a Shavian playfulness and a Ramakrishnonian badinage."¹

Yes, Sri Aurobindo gave expression to his innate sense of

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humour, only on rare occasions, depending on, as they say in Sanskrit, Desa-Kala-Patra-Avastha, that is to say, contingent on proper place, time, subject and situation. We may recall here with benefit a piece of humorous exchange between the Guru and his disciple, Nirodbaran:

NB: Please sprinkle your supramental humour now and then. A too matter-of-fact dealing takes our breath away, or at least makes life damned harder, you know.

Or are your humours also decided by Supramental Truth-sight?

Sri Aurobindo: It depends on the state of my inner humerus.³

The situation being as such, we feel like administering a friendly warning to the unwary readers of the present book on Sri Aurobindo's humour. They should not think that Sri Aurobindo was always dabbling in humour. This sort of wrong impression will distract their attention from the right focus and come in the way of their proper appreciation of the Master's serious writings. If they invariably associate Sri Aurobindo the writer and the expression of his humour, they will find themselves, face to face with any of Sri Aurobindo's writings, in the odd position of those of the sixteenth century Elizabethan England who reacted in a funny way to the very appearance of Tarlton, the comic actor.

Richard Tarlton, be it noted, was a comic actor whose skill in extemporizing humorous replies through the medium of easy verses was so great that in course of time the very trick of extemporizing came to be known as "tarltonizing". Now, Tarlton as an inventor of comic verses became so popular that, according to a contemporary, "the people began exceedingly to laugh when Tarlton first peep't out his head"; and the same idea was later on re-rendered in verse:

"Tarlton, when his head was Only seene

The Tire-house doore and Tapistrie betweene,

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Set all the multitude in such a laughter

They could not hold for scarce an hour after."⁴

Such was the expectant mood of people in the presence of Mr. Tarlton. Our unwary readers, after having tasted a sumptuous humorous dish offered in more than four hundred pages of this book, should not be in the same mood of misplaced expectation that almost every page of Sri Aurobindo's writings is going to bring to them some flash of humour.

No, humour is not the key to the habitual mode of his writing. It was rather "to be gotten, like mineral ore, under auspicious conditions, from a wealthy soil."⁵

And we have already seen in one of our earlier chapters ("The Disciples' Humour") that what, in Sri Aurobindo's case, served as this "auspicious condition": was the presence of a small group of highly appreciative listeners (readers) of cultivated literary taste like Amal Kiran, Dilip Kumar and Nirod-baran.

Otherwise, the general turn of Sri Aurobindo's writings is, in the main, quite serious and sublime in character, totally devoid of any humorous undertone. And the corpus of Sri Aurobindo's writings is not at all meagre: It is quite overwhelming even in its sheer bulk. The Master's Collected Works - as published in his 'Birth Centenary Library' - comprise thirty big-sized volumes of almost six hundred pages each. Here are a few passages, selected at random, from some of the principal works of Sri Auroindo: these passages will unmistakably indicate the usual complexion of Sri Aurobindo's writings.

1. A passage from The Life Divine:

"There is no greater pleasure for man himself than a victory which is in its very principle a conquest over difficulties, a victory in knowledge, a victory in power, a victory in creation over the impossibilities of creation, a delight in the conquest over an anguished toil and a hard ordeal of suffering. At the end of separation is the intense joy of union, the joy of a meeting with a self from which we were divided. There is an attraction in

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ignorance itself because it provides us with the joy of discovery, the surprise of new and unforeseen creation, a great adventure of the soul; there is a joy of the journey and the search and the finding, a joy of the battle and the crown, the labour and the reward of labour. If delight of existence be the secret of creation, this too is one delight of existence; it can be regarded as the reason or at least one reason of this apparently paradoxical and contrary Lila."⁶

2.A passage from The Synthesis of Yoga:

"The general power of Delight is love and the special mould which the joy of love takes is the vision of beauty. The God-lover is the universal lover and he embraces the All-blissful All-beautiful. When universal love has seized on his heart, it is the decisive sign that the Divine has taken possession of him; and when he has the vision of the All-beautiful everywhere and can feel at all times the bliss of his embrace, that is the decisive sign that he has taken possession of the Divine. Union is the consummation of love, but it is this mutual possession that gives it at once the acme and the largest reach of its intensity. It is the foundation of oneness in ecstasy."⁷

3.A passage from Essays on the Gita:

"We have to see that God the bountiful and prodigal creator, God the helpful, strong and benignant preserver is also God the devourer and destroyer. The torment of the couch of pain and evil on which we are racked is his touch as much as happiness and sweetness and pleasure. It is only when we see with the eye of the complete union and feel this truth in the depths of our being that we can entirely discover behind that mask too the calm and beautiful face of the all-blissful Godhead and in this touch that tests our imperfection the touch of the friend and builder of the spirit in man. The discords of the worlds are God's discords and it is only by accepting and proceeding through them that we can arrive at the greater concords of his supreme harmony, the summits and thrilled vastnesses of his transcendent and his cosmic Ananda."⁸

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4.A passage from Letters on Yoga:

"I would prefer to avoid all public controversy especially if it touches in the least on politics. Gandhi's theories are like other mental theories built on a basis of one-sided reasoning and claiming for a limited truth (that of non-violence and passive resistance) a universality which it cannot have. Such theories will always exist so long as the mind is the main instrument of human truth-seeking. To spend energy trying to destroy such theories is of little use; if destroyed they are replaced by others equally limited and partial.

"...Our work is not to fight these things but to bring down a higher nature and a Truth-creation which will make spiritual Light and Power the chief force in terrestrial existence."⁹

5.A passage from The Future Poetry:

"The mind of man, a little weary now of the superficial pleasure of the life and intellect, demands, obscurely still, not yet perceiving what will satisfy it, a poetry of the joy of self, of the deeper beauty and delight of existence. A merely cultured poetry fair in form and word and playing on the surface strings of mind and emotion will not serve its purpose. The human mind is opening to an unprecedented largeness of vision of the greatness of the worlds, the wonder of life, the self of man, the mystery of the spirit in him and the universe."¹⁰

6.A passage from The Human Cycle:

"The reason can govern, but only as a minister, imperfectly, or as a general arbiter and giver of suggestions which are not really supreme commands, or as one channel of the sovereign authority, because that hidden Power acts at present not directly but through many agents and messengers. The real sovereign is another than the reasoning intelligence. Man's impulse to be free, master of Nature in himself and his environment cannot be really fulfilled until his self-consciousness has grown beyond the rational mentality, become aware of the true sovereign and either identified itself with him or entered into constant communion with his supreme will and knowledge."¹¹

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So, this is Sri Aurobindo and such is his normal style of writing with all its Himalayan grandeur. But, at the same time, this too is true that an undercurrent of the sense of humour has been there in Sri Aurobindo all through his life and found expression - albeit rarely and occasionally - in his writings in all the periods of his literary career, since his early adolescence to the late 40s of the present century when he shone in his unique glory of a great philosopher-poet and a master Yogi. Sri Aurobindo, whenever he so liked, could spontaneously and gracefully bring a touch of humour to any occasion and any subject, from the mundane to the spiritual, from the sundry details of daily life to the themes pertaining to the suprarational world. Art, poetry, logic, medicine, sadhana, society, human relations, oddities of human conduct and what not - all, all without exception could be the vehicle of expression of his humour.

Hence after having disabused the minds of our readers of a possible erroneous impression that Sri Aurobindo was perhaps basically a writer of humour, we may now safely close this final chapter of our book with a few humorous citations from Sri Aurobindo's writings, writings separated from each other by a long time-span of almost half a century. These passages will bring out in striking outlines the opulent and multisplendoured sense of humour Sri Aurobindo possessed. And what will be all the more surprising is the happy discovery that Sri Aurobindo could write humorous pieces of the highest order even at the tender age of eighteen only. And with what maturity of thought and what subtlety of observation!

The first three quotations are from Sri Aurobindo's The Harmony of Virtue which he wrote in England around 1890 when he was still in his teens. The entire piece is in the form of a Socratic dialogue between one Keshav Ganesh who is presumably young Aurobindo himself and Keshav's friend, Broome Wilson.

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From The Harmony of Virtue

(Written by Sri Aurobindo at the age of eighteen. The quotations are from Book III.)

W. I believe you are right.

Ke. And must not cruelty, the thorn of our beautiful human rose, be subdued into harmony with his other qualities and among them tenderness and clemency and generous forbearance and other qualities seemingly the most opposed to cruelty and then only will it be a real virtue but until then nothing more than a potential virtue?

W. You are right; then only will it be a real virtue.... but am I too inquisitive when I ask you how cruelty and tenderness can live together?

Ke. My dear Broome, I shall never think you too inquisitive but above ail things desire that you should have a clear intelligence of my meaning.

Have you never learned by experience or otherwise how a girl will torment her favoured lover by a delicate and impalpable evasion of his desires and will not give him even the loan of a kiss without wooing, but must be infinitely entreated, and stretch him on the rack of a half-serious refusal and torture him with the pangs of hope just as a cat will torture a mouse, yet all the while means to give him everything he asks for and indeed would be more bitterly disappointed than he, if any accident precluded her from making him happy? W. Yes, I know some women are like that.

Ke. If you had said most women are like that, you would have hit the truth more nearly. And this trait in women we impute to feminine insincerity and to maiden coyness and to everything but the real motive, and that is the primitive and eternal passion of cruelty appearing in the coarse fibre of man as crude and inartistic barbarity, but in the sweet and delicate soul of women as a refined and beautiful playfulness and the inseparable corelative of a gentle and suave disposition.

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W. But I am inclined to credit the girl with the purpose of giving a keener relish to the gratified desire by enhancing the difficulty of attainment, and in that case she will be actuated not by cruelty but always by tenderness.

Ke. You think she is actuated by the principles of Political Economy? I cannot agree with you....

...now, Broome, will you say that a tyrant who desires to give his favourite a keener relish of luxury and strains him on the rack and washes him with scalding oil and dries him with nettles and flays him with whips and then only comforts him with the luxury of downy pillows and velvet cushions and perfect repose, has not been actuated by cruelty but always by tenderness?

W. Oh, of course, if you cite extravagant instances!

Ke. And will you say that the girl who wishes to give her kiss a sweeter savour on the lips of her favourite and strains him on the rack of suspense and washes him with the scalding oil of despair and dries him with the nettles of hope and flays him with the whips of desire and then only comforts him with the velvet luxury of a kiss and the downy cushion of an embrace and the perfect repose of desire fulfilled, has not been actuated by cruelty but always by tenderness, and not rather that all unnecessary pain is cruelty to the sufferer?

W. Certainly, unnecessary pain is cruelty. Ke. Are you perfectly satisfied? W. Perfectly satisfied.¹²

***

Ke. And now since Broome and I are at a loss to conjecture what we mean, do you not think we shall be enlightened by a concrete example?

[...]

W. Let us at least make an attempt.

Ke. We will call on the stage the girl and her lover, who have been so useful to us. It is clear at once that if she is not

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virtuous but harmonizes the elements of beauty unskilfully, the passion of her favourite will wither and not expand. W. That is clear.

Ke. What then will be her manner of harmonizing them? W. I return the question to you.

Ke. Well now, will she not harmonize the phases of her dalliance, and hesitate on the brink of yielding just at the proper pitch of his despair, and elude his kiss just at the proper pitch of his expectancy, and fan his longing when it sinks, and check it when it rises, and surrender herself when he is smouldering with hopeless passion?

W. That is probably what she will do.

Ke. And is not that to cast her dalliance in a beautiful form? W. It is.

Ke. But she will not do this grossly and palpably, but will lead up to everything by looks and tones and gestures so as to glide from one to the other without his perceiving and will sweeten the hard and obvious form by the flavour of the simple and natural, yet will be all the while the veriest coquette and artist in flirtation.

W. Yes, that is what a girl like that would do.

Ke. And is not that to give a subtle perfume to her dalliance?

W. I suppose it is.

Ke. But if she is perfect in the art, will she not, even while repulsing him most cruelly, allow a secret tenderness to run through her words and manner, and when she is most tenderly yielding, will she not show the sharp edge of asperity through the flowers, and in a word allow the blended cruelty and sweetness of her soul to be just palpable to his perceptive senses?

W. She will.

Ke. And is not that to suffuse her dalliance with colour? W. Plainly.

Ke. And moreover she will not allow her affectation of the natural to be too imperfect to conceal her art or so heavily scented as to betray the intention, or the colour to be unnoticeable from slightness or from intensity to spoil the

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delicate effect of her perverseness, or the form to engross too largely the attention, or indeed any element to fall too short or carry too far, but will subdue the whole trio into a just and appropriate harmony.

W. If she wants to be a perfect flirt, that is what she will do. Ke. And if coquetry is native in her, to be a perfect flirt will be highest pinnacle of virtue.

W. That follows from the premises.

Ke. And so here we have a concrete example of perfect virtue, and begin to understand what we mean by the perfect evolution of an inborn quality, or are you still unenlightened?

W. No, I perfectly understand.¹³

After going through the above two accounts the readers will surely feel like joining us in exclaiming: "Bravo, young Aurobindo, bravo!"

Here is a third piece of humorous writing again from the pen of young Aurobindo and picked at random from the same The Harmony of Virtue about which Sri Aurobindo remarked apropos:

"I read more than once Plato's Republic and Symposium, but only extracts from his other writings. It is true that under his impress I rashly started writing at the age of 18 an explanation of the cosmos on the foundation of the principle of Beauty and Harmony, but I never got beyond the first three or four chapters."

The piece selected and quoted below centres round the Irish genius Oscar Wilde who became the leader of the "aesthetic craze" during his years at Oxford. Gilbert delightfully ridiculed him by calling Wilde and his followers the "intense", "utterly too too" folk who "lived up" to a blue vase or a sunflower.

This is how young Aurobindo is speaking through his created character Keshav Ganesh about the aesthetic achievements of Oscar Wilde:

Ke. ... Another route is called "beauty" and along this no one

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has yet sailed. An Irish navigator has indeed attempted it and made some remarkable discoveries, but he has clothed his account in such iridescent wit and humour, that our good serious English audience either grin foolishly at him from vague idea that they ought to feel amused or else shake their heads and grumble that the fellow is corrupting the youth and ruining their good old Saxon gravity; why, he actually makes people laugh at the beliefs they have been taught by their venerable and aged grand-mothers! But as for believing his traveller's tales -they believe them not a whit....¹⁴

What we have quoted above as illustrative specimens of young Aurobindo's humour were written in the far past - in 1890, to be precise. Let us move forward through the channel of time for another forty years and reach the year 1932. We are face to face with Sri Aurobindo the Mahayogi, the exponent of the Integral Philosophy and the prophet of the Life Divine. Has he retained his sense of humour, we wonder. Let us see what the facts reveal.

In August 1932 Dilip Kumar, a disciple of Sri Aurobindo, wrote in a cleverly worded letter to him:

"Brotteaux, one of the unabashed scoffers in Anatole France's Les Dieux ont soif, throws this hearty fling at God in the face of Father Longuemare, the pious priest:

'Either God would prevent evil if he could, but could not, or he could but would not, or he neither could nor would, or he both would and could.

If he would but could not, he is impotent. If he could but would not, he is perverse. If he neither could nor would, he is at once impotent and perverse. And if he both could and would, why on earth doesn't he do it, Father?'

"Guru, I send this to you as I immensely enjoyed the joke and am sure you would too, hoping you would have something to fend it off with."

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Pat came Sri Aurobindo's long reply suffused with sparkling humour. Here is it:

Anatole's boutade and God's rejoinder!

"Dilip,

"Anatole France is always amusing whether he is ironising about God and Christianity or about that rational animal man or Humanity (with a big H) and the follies of his reason and his conduct.

"But I presume you never heard of God's explanation of his non-interference to Anatole France when they met in some Heaven of Irony, I suppose, — it can't have been in the heaven of Karl Marx, in spite of France's conversion before his death. God is reported to have strolled up to him and said:

'I say, Anatole, you know that was a good joke of yours; but there was a good cause too for my non-interference. Reason came along and told me: "Look here, why do you pretend to exist? You know you don't exist and never existed or, if you do, you have made such a mess of your creation that we can't tolerate you any longer. Once we have got you out of the way all will be right upon earth, tip-top, A-l: my daughter Science and I have arranged that between us. Man will raise his noble brow, the head of creation, dignified, free, equal, fraternal, democratic, depending upon nothing but himself, with nothing greater than himself anywhere in existence. There will be no God, no gods, no churches, no priestcraft, no religion, no kings, no oppression, no poverty, no war or discord anywhere. Industry will fill the earth with abundance, commerce will spread her golden reconciling wings everywhere. Universal education will stamp out ignorance and leave no room for folly or unreason in any human brain; man will become cultured, disciplined, rational, scientific, well-informed, arriving always at the right conclusion upon full and sufficient data. The voice of the scientist and the expert will be loud in the land and guide mankind to the earthly paradise. A perfected society; health universalised by a developed medical science and a sound

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hygiene; everything rationalised; science evolved, infallible, omnipotent, ominiscient; the riddle of existence solved; the Parliament of Man, the Federation of the world; evolution, of which man, magnificent man, is the last term, completed in the noble white race, a humanitarian kindness and uplifting for our backward brown, yellow and black brothers; peace, peace, peace, reason, order, unity everywhere."

'There was a lot more like that, Anatole, and I was so much impressed by the beauty of the picture and its convenience, for I would have nothing to do or to supervise, that I at once retired from business, - for, you know that I was always of a retiring disposition and inclined to keep myself behind the veil or in the background at the best of times.

'But what is this I hear? - it does not seem to me from reports that Reason even with the help of Science has kept her promise. And if not, why not? Is it because she would not or because she could not? or is it because she both would not and could not, or because she would and could, but somehow did not? And I say, Anatole, these children of theirs, the State, Industrialism, Capitalism, Communism and the rest have a queer look - they seem very much like Titanic monsters. Armed, too, with all the powers of Intellect and all the weapons and organisations of Science! And it does look as if mankind were no freer under them than under the Kings and the Churches. What has happened or is it possible that Reason is not supreme and infallible, even that she has made a greater mess of it than I could have done myself?'

"Here the report of the conversation ends; I give it for what it is worth, for I am not acquainted with this God and have to take him on trust from Anatole France."¹⁵

Let Anatole France ruminate in his discomfiture over the clever echo-like reply of "God" to his own wily boutade. For our part let us move on for two more years and come to the year 1934 and close this book of ours with one of the rarest sallies of Sri Aurobindo with reference to which Dilip Kumar has rightly commented in the following way:

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"... a mood, alas, which his life-long preoccupation with us, dolorous dwarfs, made it all but impossible for him to give vent to more often. I shall quote it not only to end on a happy note but also for the sheer delight of revealing him [Sri Aurobindo] in an impulse of unbridled laughter and fun which will, I hope, be welcome to all who cherish the memory of his lovelit personality."¹⁶

It happened like this. A few days before Sri Aurobindo's birthday, 15 August 1934, Nolini Kanta, the secretary of the Master, brought to Dilip Kumar a telegram addressed to Sri Aurobindo, which simply read:

"Wire permission for your Darshan on the fifteenth of August. Dilip, my friend, will recommend me - Aurobindo."

On the margin of the telegram was written in Sri Aurobindo's own handwriting: "Dilip, please recommend and enlighten."

This little query on Sri Aurobindo's part prompted the inimitable versifier Dilip Kumar to dash off a poem then and there and send it up to Sri Aurobindo. The poem ostensibly sought to convey DK's confusion (!) because of his many-Aurobindonian encounters in the past! Here is that poem which in its style and tone rightly pits the disciple's humour against that of his unparallelled Guru:

"You ask me, Guru, who is this Aurobindo who desires to

come

To have your blessing on your birthday? I would rather now

be dumb:

Because, I find, I know four personalities distinct and great Who are your namesakes and so wonder how to place this

candidate!

So I'll recount the deeds of each still graven in my memory, For your Supramental may shed light where I grope rayless

hopelessly!

The first was an aristocrat whose toilette few will dare

eclipse:

He combed his curls for hours - a dandy, out and out, to his

finger-tips,

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Enamoured of pomatum, powder, silks and scents and

fineries,

He blithely hummed to all and sundry India's amorous

melodies.

Work he abhorred, yet such is fate - he was given a mill to

supervise,

But he resigned and married pelf - not less resourceful than

he was wise!

It is not likely — but who knows — perhaps your mystic call

he hears!

And, sick at last of the world's brief tinkles, aches for the

music of the spheres!

And number two: he'd fallen in love with one he called 'his

dream of love

Come true on earth' — but she, alas, proved subtle whom no

romance could move.

She smiled on him as Frau von Stein once smiled on

Goethe: did not she

invite the Poet? - but then 'Oh no, not too close,' said she

warningly!

Only, while Goethe had for his flame to pay in poems, not

in gold:

This modern 'Pickwick' gave her with his 'love-sick' heart

his cash untold.

Then, bankrupt, hugging me in London blubbered he

between his tears:

'O kindred spirit, who but you can ever divine what my

heart sears?

You never can tell - perhaps he has since read your message

of the One

Who can tell why love is doomed to dark and never a place

wins in the sun?

Your namesake number three, a youth who lived in Paris by

his wits,

Took me in tow and showed me round the Eternal city's

sweet retreats.

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A specialist in gossip about prophets, poets and actresses,

'What is unknown to me,' he bragged, 'is not worth while -

I know what pays.'

And he made me know it too although I did pay what I

could for him,

As he would clarify what to my mind had seemed intriguing,

dim.

Maybe his 'knowledge' has let him down and so he longs for

a greater light

Than his continental firefly twinkles - helpless in his soul's

dark night!

The last though not the least, O Guru, of your namesakes

was so brave

That we all stood aghast when, after lecturing 'each his soul

must save',

He wooed a Belgian old Maid who though not so wise as

Solomon

Was even as rich and "game" when he led her to the altar in

Boulogne.

I had to be his best man though no bridesmaids were

available,

But the great philosopher announced: 'Without love even

Heaven were hell!'

So the saviour angel of his soul led him to the turf in a

mystic glee

And then in the heaven of Monte Carlo gambled and lost

exultantly.

I wonder: could his Eden elect have failed him in the last

resort?

Else how could his brave ship want now to come to your

Supramental port?

I know not human destiny, nor your celestial mysteries.

I only know your regal soul rich with the starry secrecies.

So I implore: O make me see the greatness of your

namesakes now,

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Say, how come they to bear your name and yet stay where

they are - Oh how?

Just one thing more: what shall I answer? - and please tell

me his address.

I dare not recommend all, Guru, though all you can lean to

bless.

And lastly, O Compassionate, forgive my dread frivolity:

To have laughed at those who bear your name? Oh, damn

me not everlastingly."¹⁷

After having received it, Sri Aurobindo promptly replied to this epistolary poem of Dilip Kumar, and what a marvellous reply it was! Let us gratefully close this book with this last specimen of Sri Aurobindo's humour:

Sri Aurobindo on the epic of the four Aurobindos!

"Dilip,

"Your epic of the four Aurobindos is luminous, informing and hair-raising! But there can be no doubt about who this Aurobindo is - it is, I presume, Aurobindo the fourth, 'a doer of dreadful deeds'. I am referring to the phrase bhimakarma Brikodara, ['Wolf-belly of dreadful deeds], - However a truce to unseemly jests; let us come to grave practical matters.

"His address? How in the name of the wonderful I am to know? His address in the telegram is 'Aurobindo, Bombay' just as mine might be 'Aurobindo, Pondicherry'. In his previous letter he wrote that he was going to Bombay and would waltz from there straight to Pondicherry. He may have given his Bombay address but I don't think so. Nolini who has his letter can perhaps enlighten you.

"I do not know whether he expects us to put him up — I suppose not, since although he is Aurobindo, Aurobindo does not know him from Adam. However, what I am doing is to send you his reply-paid telegram form and shove my responsibility on your shoulders. You will decide these according to the ripe wisdom of your many-Aurobindonian experience. Whether you

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wire, 'come and be blessed' or 'stay where you are in your Eden'- is your shout -1 back out. To sum the matter up in two far-flowing Alexandrine couplets:

Tell him, by wire: 'Come on' with a benignant nod,

Or leave him journeying to the devil or to God,

Decide for the other Aurobindo what you please,

This namesake-flooded Aurobindo leave at ease.

"In fact my Supermind is almost staggering helpless to make any decision under the weight of all these Aurobindos and others. I am told there will be 400 of them in families and singles apart from the 200 who are here, and so unless the divine mercy descends with a greater force than the 'gentle dew' from Heaven, we may be still there receiving people till past three o'clock in the afternoon. So one Aurobindo more or less can make no difference to me. It is you who will rejoice or suffer — according as he falls on you like a ton of bricks or envelops you like a soothing zephyr in the spring.

"But look at the irony of human decisions and human hopes. My father who wanted all his [four] sons to be great men - and succeeded in a small way with three of them - in a sudden inspiration gave me the name Aurobindo, till then not borne by anyone in India or the wide world, that I might stand out unique among the great by the unique glory of my name. Now look at the swarm of Aurobindos with their mighty deeds in England, Germany and elsewhere!...

"As for the explanation, your epic of the four Aurobindos has suddenly revealed to me why the name Aurobindo has spread and why its bearers are heading for Pondicherry. I have it - eureka! And I am released from all kshobha [chagrin] at the violated uniqueness of my name. Your description shows that each Aurobindo represents a world-type and it is of the conglomeration and sublimation of great world-types that the supramental-terrestrial will be made. You may not have appreciated their greatness, but that is not their fault. Also the formula for the supramental may sound to you too chemical like

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the formula for a patent medicine, but there it is...."¹⁸

Sri Aurobindo concluded his letter with this assuring postscript:

"Dilip, your 'epistolary frivolity' was all right. There is laughter in the Kingdom of Heaven, though there may be no marriage there."

Yes, dear readers, there is enough of laughter in 'the Kingdom of Heaven' and on this assuring note let us close this book on Sri Aurobindo's humour. Our infinite gratitude to the Smiling Master in whose lovelit sweet and intimate company we have been for the last four hundred and thirty-seven pages of this book. Jayatu Jayatu Rasasindhu Sri Aurobindo: Victory to Sri Aurobindo who is the very Ocean of Rasa!

Au revoirl

REFERENCES

N.B. For what the abbreviations stand for please consult Bibliography on page 439.

1.Vide Prof. K. Subrahmanian's column "Know Your English" in The Hindu,

2.SAC,

3.C-Compl,

4.FW, pp.

5.Ibid., p.

6.LD.,

7.Syn., p.

8.EG, p.

9.LY, pp.

10.The Future Poetry

11.HC,

12.Pathamandir Annual,

13.Ibid., pp.

14.Ibid., p.

15.FP, pp.

16.SAC, p.

17.Ibid.,

18.Ibid., pp.

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