Nirodbaran's Correspondence with Sri Aurobindo

November 1933

My birthday comes on the 17th of this month, shall I not come to you, Mother?

Yes. I don't know how it failed to be put on the record.

I try to leave myself in your hands entirely. Am I wrong in my attitude or am I to cry constantly into your ears?

Not constantly, but from time to time.

I do some running exercise in the early morning. Is there any harm?

No.

November 7, 1933

Today I saw N with S at 6 a.m. It was at once clear that she has joined the hostile camp. I now hear that she is going away. Yet she herself had said recently that she will never leave you...

Perhaps you don't know that N came as a temporary resident and stayed on simply because she did not care to go, finding herself at ease here. She was never permanently accepted.

And it cannot be denied that following a sincere call she came from her place to this far-off land, in quest of Truth.

How do you know it was a sincere call? She did not come to India to seek the Truth from a far land leaving her near and dear ones; she came in order to get away from her family life in which she was in furious conflict with most of her people. After she came to India she began wandering through various Asrams—but was not satisfied with some and the others sent her away or perhaps entreated her to leave them. All the same there was a being within her which had pushed her to this life, so she had her chance—although the Mother never expected much of her nor were we at all certain about her staying or being able to go through. Her failure does not mean a definite frustration. The being that is in her will certainly have its way in this life or another—but it must be admitted that for this life the chances don't look overbright.

Within a very short span of time we have seen some four or five departures among whom B had been here quite a number of years and he was not a weak adhar⁶ either. How is it that all of a sudden he opened the doors to undivine beings, when he was going so smoothly and confidently on one track?

B did not open all of a sudden. He had from the first a violent Asuric strain in his nature, as he himself knew and he was always trying to incarnate new Asuras in the plea of offering their mighty strength and power for the Divine Work. I don't believe that at any time in his life he went "smoothly and confidently on one track"—it was from the beginning all leaps and shouts and catastrophes and upheavals. I thought I had destroyed the legend of his being a perfect Bhakta⁷ and strong Adhar.

Is the Divine so helpless against these forces or beings?

Do you expect the Divine to force a man into heaven against his own will?

You said the other day that we call in these forces by our habit, for the sake of drama, etc. It is true but isn't it quite natural too since we are hardly transformed in our nature and aspiration, as yet?

To have weaknesses of the lower nature is one thing—to call in the hostile forces is quite another. Whoever does the latter, takes his risk. He is going towards the opposite camp—for the marks of the hostile Force are contempt of the Divine, revolt and hatred against the Mother, disbelief in the Yoga, assertion of ego against the Divine Being, preference of falsehood to Truth, seeking after false gods and rejection of the Eternal.

Am I then to suppose that N, B and others began to walk with hesitating steps, doubting at every step they had taken the Divine leading?

Not with hesitating but with hostile steps—away from the Truth.

As for N, one can hardly say that she took steps hesitating or not—most of her life was drifting in the current of her own impulses...

If after a few years of sincere sadhana I make a wrong movement under the influence of hostile forces, why does not the Divine come in with his power and save me, considering that I have been true to him at least for some time?

And what do you make of the free choice and the necessity of assent? Supposing the Divine does intervene and you say "Damn you I don't want you—you are a nuisance and a lie. I want my own inspirations and the satisfaction of my ego," and supposing you kick the Divine in the face when he stoops to help you and even when he lifts you up and sends the Black Force away, you call it back each time and rush back to embrace it. What then? That is what those who are under that influence do—D,N, others all did it.

I cannot believe that the Divine does not know our ultimate fate. Why then does the Divine accept me if he knows that I shall fail in the long run?

What is the long run?

May I know when and under what circumstances fulfilled, you send in your saving hand, in case one is assailed by such forces? I am convinced that no undivine powers can stand against you unless for some inscrutable reasons you have not helped or do not help.

It is when they refuse to be saved. B was saved several thousand times. Finally he said he would go on his own way, that the Divine in him was the true Divine and we were only indulging our outer personalities and he threatened to starve himself to death if we kept him here. What do you expect us to do under these circumstances? Yoga is an endeavour, a tapasya—it can cease to be so only when one surrenders sincerely to a higher Action and keeps the surrender and makes it complete. It is not a fantasia, devoid of all reason and coherence or a mere miracle. It has its laws and conditions and I do not see how you can demand of the Divine to do everything by a violent miracle.

I ask myself why I lose heart over cases which are apparently failures and not take courage from those who are going triumphantly.

I have never said that this Yoga was a safe one—no Yoga is. Each has its dangers as has every great attempt in human life. But it can be carried through if one has a central sincerity and a fidelity to the Divine. These are the two necessary conditions.

What a shock I got today when I saw that one of our bean-plants died! It was growing so luxuriantly and overnight, this was the state. J says it may be due to white ants—for which there is no remedy.

The only remedy is to find out the queen and kill it—if it is in the garden.

This case very significantly reminds me of all the cases I have written about.

Why not take it as a lesson in equanimity

November 12, 1933

By saying that N was never permanently accepted by you, you invite me to ask you about myself which I have not done so far, partly through fear, partly feeling no necessity for it.

My meaning was this only that the original understanding with N was that she was here to try if it suited her and she was free to go at any moment. And this was never altered. It suited her only in so far as she was at ease with no strong pressure to give up her peculiarities unless she freely chose to do so. The pressure we put on others, however silent, or modified, on yourself or J, we did not put on her—we left her to her fancies. The reason was that if she was to take up the life in good earnest, it must be from herself, from the being within corning out. With a mind like hers the least pressure would be useless—until that moment came, if it came. There is therefore no analogy between your case or J's and hers.

From all my outbursts of yesterday, I hope you have been able to see that I am pleading for the solicitude of the Divine, beforehand.

The solicitude is there.

...Because you know I have very often been played at by these suggestions—and the forces have not exhausted their resources, though at present they are out of the way.

So are many in the Asram. The thing is neither to play with them—nor to fear them. Suggestions are suggestions—they come to all. It is the rejection that is important.

I have received a letter from my family—usual pathetic letter. Will it not be wise to write saying that all their wailings are of no use?

Better say nothing—it does no good and only increases the reaction from there.

November 13, 1933

When you give us flowers. are we to aspire for the things they stand for. or do you give them with the flowers?

There is no fixed rule—sometimes it is the one, sometimes the other. But even when the thing is given, it is given a power—it has to be realised by the sadhak in consciousness and for that aspiration is necessary.

November 17, 1933

The fountain of poetry has dried up. Not only so—there is a feeling of disgust for poetry. Is it due to inertia?

Tamas—the disgust is also tamasic.

November 21, 1933