Sri Aurobindo for All Ages

XI: Beginnings of the Ashram (1920-1926)

ON APRIL 24, 1920, the Mother arrived at Pondicherry for the second time, never to depart again. Paul Richard came with her and she was also accompanied by Miss Dorothy Hodgson, an English lady who had known the Mother in France and had stayed with her in Japan. Dorothy later came to be known as 'Dana', shortened from Vasavadatta, the name given to her by Sri Aurobindo.

After staying for a few days in hotels, they moved to a rented house at 1, rue St. Martin, called the 'Bayoud House'. Sri Aurobindo was still residing at the 'Guest House' in rue Francois Martin. Soon the relationship resumed the pattern of 1914-1915. Richard and Mirra would visit Sri Aurobindo in the afternoon or evening, while Sri Aurobindo with his young men called on the Richards every Sunday evening and dined with them. When she came to the Guest House, the Mother generally kept herself in the background and it was only gradually that the inmates of the house began to feel her presence. The significance of the day of her arrival, April 24, and its importance in the Yoga of Sri Aurobindo came to be increasingly recognised with the passage of time, culminating in the anniversary becoming one of the four days in the year when Sri Aurobindo and the Mother gave darshan to their disciples in the Ashram and to visitors who received permission to come for the occasion.

With the end of the war, the British Government pushed through the Montagu-Chelmsford Reforms by passing the Government of India Act of 1919. The effect of these reforms was, as Sri Aurobindo had pointed out earlier, to leave real authority exactly where it had always been — in the hands of the British. Nevertheless there were many Indians who were in favour of giving the Act a trial. Indeed there was a dearth of political leadership at the time and the atmosphere was one of angry frustration and humiliation arising out of the Jallianwalla Bagh massacres on April 13, 1919. Mrs. Besant's Home Rule Movement had run its course and Gandhiji had yet to assume his position of influence and command over the Congress. Tilak had returned to India after his long incarceration in Mandalay and was trying to revive and reorganise the Nationalist forces. Late in 1919 he asked one of his lieutenants, Joseph Baptista, to request Sri Aurobindo to accept the editorship of a paper they proposed to bring out as the authentic voice of the Nationalists. In a long reply dated January 5, 1920, Sri Aurobindo wrote: 'Your offer is a tempting one, but I regret I cannot answer it in the affirmative.' Giving the reasons for declining the offer, Sri Aurobindo first expressed the doubt whether the Government would leave him free to pursue his activities and he thought that, in the event of a clash, he would be interned or imprisoned. 'Now I have too much work on my hands,' he wrote, 'to waste my time in the leisured ease of an involuntary Government guest.' He then went on to explain: 'But even if I were assured of an entirely free action and movement, I should yet not go just now. I came to Pondicherry in order to have freedom and tranquillity for a fixed object having nothing to do with present politics — in which I have taken no direct part since my coming here, though what I could do for the country in my own way I have constantly done, — and until it is accomplished, it is not possible for me to resume any kind of public activity. But if I were in British India, I should be obliged to plunge at once into action of different kinds. Pondicherry is my place of retreat, my cave of tapasya, not of the ascetic kind, but of a brand of my own invention. I must finish that, I must be internally armed and equipped for my work before I leave it.'

A few months afterwards there was another attempt, more determined this time to bring Sri Aurobindo back into the political arena. On August 1, 1920, Lokmanya Tilak died. In response to a request from Bepin Chandra Pal, Sri Aurobindo wrote a magnificent tribute to the departed leader. It was published in Pal's paper, the Independent, and commenced with the memorable words: 'A great mind, a great will, a great and pre-eminent leader of men has passed away from the field of his achievement and labour.' The Nationalists now looked to Sri Aurobindo to assume their leadership and Dr. B.S. Munje, an influential congressman who had the support of the Nationalists and who was known to Sri Aurobindo earlier, came to Pondicherry to meet him. In the course of long talks Munje pressed Sri Aurobindo to accept the Presidentship of the ensuing Nagpur session of the Congress in December 1920, but Sri Aurobindo declined. Later Dr. Munje sent a telegram to renew the offer and Sri Aurobindo replied on August 30, 1920, giving a number of reasons for not being able to accept it. 'The central reason however,' he wrote, 'is this that I am no longer first and foremost a politician, but have definitely commenced another kind of work with a spiritual basis, a work of spiritual, social, cultural and economic reconstruction of an almost revolutionary kind, and am even making or at least supervising a sort of practical or laboratory experiment in that sense which needs all the attention and energy that I can have to spare.'

There is another remarkable letter from Sri Aurobindo during this period, which throws light on his views of yoga, politics and similar subjects. He wrote in April 1920 to his younger brother, Barin, who had been released earlier from the Andamans, following an amnesty to political prisoners by the Government after the armistice. On returning to Bengal, Barin visited a number of spiritual centres, including the Prabartak Sangha of Motilal Roy at Chandernagore, but apparently he was disappointed with what he saw. So he wrote to Sri Aurobindo seeking initiation into his yoga, but also expressing his doubts as to his fitness. Sri Aurobindo's long reply was written in Bengali, a rare feat for him, and I shall give you some extracts from it in translation. He wrote: 'First, about your yoga. You want to give me the charge of your yoga, and I am willing to accept it. But this means giving it to Him who, openly or secretly, is moving me and you by His divine power. And you should know that the inevitable result of this will be that you will have to follow the path of yoga which He has given me, the path I call the Integral Yoga.... What I started with, what Lele gave me, what I did in jail — all that was a searching for the path, a circling around looking here and there, touching, taking up, handling, testing this and that of all the partial yogas, getting a more or less complete experience of one and then going off in pursuit of another. Afterwards, when I came to Pondicherry, this unsteady condition ceased. The indwelling Guru of the world indicated my path to me completely, its full theory, the ten limbs of the body of yoga. These ten years he has been making me develop it in experience; it is not yet finished.... For the present, I can only say that its fundamental principle is to make a synthesis and unity of integral knowledge, integral works and integral devotion, and, raising this above the mental level to the supra-mental level of the Vijnana, to give it a complete perfection. The defect of the old yoga was that, knowing the mind and reason and knowing the Spirit, it remained satisfied with spiritual experience in the mind. But the mind can grasp only the fragmentary; it cannot completely seize the infinite, the undivided. The mind's way to seize it is through the trance of samadhi, the liberation of moksha, the extinction of nirvana and so forth. It has no other way. Someone here or there may indeed obtain this featureless liberation, but what is the gain? The Spirit, the Self, the Divine is always there. What the Divine wants is for man to embody Him here, in the individual and the collectivity — to realise God in life. The old system of yoga could not synthesise or unify the Spirit and life; it dismissed the world as an illusion or a transient play of God. The result has been a diminution of the power of life and the decline of India....'

Sri Aurobindo then explained the significance and need for a deva-sangha or spiritual community: 'Then about Motilal's group. What Motilal got from me is the first foundation, the base of my yoga — surrender, equality etc. He has been working on these things; the work is not complete.... I have spoken in my English writings of the "divine life". Nolini has translated this as devajivana. The community of those who want the deva-jivana is the deva-sangha. Motilal has begun an attempt to establish this kind of community in seed-form in Chandernagore and to spread it across the country. If the shadow of the fragile ego falls upon this sort of endeavour, the community turns into a sect.... You will perhaps ask, "What is the need of a sangha? Let me be free and fill every vessel. Let all become one, let all take place within that vast unity." All this is true, but it is only one side of the truth. Our business is not with the formless Spirit only; we have to direct life as well. Without shape and form, life has no effective movement.

It is the formless that has taken form, and that assumption of name and form is not a caprice of Maya. The positive necessity of form has brought about the assumption of form. We do not want to exclude any of the world's activities. Politics, trade, social organisation, poetry, art, literature — all will remain. But all will be given a new life, a new form.'

Regarding Barin's fitness for yoga and his comment that he was 'not a god, only some much-hammered and tempered steel', Sri Aurobindo wrote: 'No one is a god, but each man has a god within him. To manifest him is the aim of the divine life. That everyone can do. I admit that certain individuals have greater or lesser capacities. I do not, however, accept as accurate your description of yourself but whatever the capacity, if once God places his finger upon the man and his spirit awakes, greater or lesser and all the rest make little difference. The difficulties may be more, it may take more time, what is manifested may not be the same — but even this is not certain. The god within takes no account of all these difficulties and deficiencies; he forces his way out. Were there few defects in my mind and heart and life and body? Few difficulties? Did it not take time? Did God hammer at me sparingly — day after day, moment after moment? Whether I have become a god or something else I do not know. But I have become or am becoming something — whatever God desires. This is sufficient. And it is the same with everybody; not by our own strength but by God's strength is this yoga done.'

On the subject of politics Sri Aurobindo's words are revealing: 'Why did I leave politics? Because our politics is not the genuine Indian thing; it is a European import, an imitation of European ways. But it too was needed. You and I also engaged in politics of the European style. If we had not done so, the country would not have risen, and we would not have had the experience or obtained a full development. Even now there is a need for it, not so much in Bengal as in the other provinces of India. But now the time has come to take hold of the substance instead of extending the shadow. We have to awaken the true soul of India and to do everything in accordance with it. For the last ten years I have been silently pouring-my influence into this foreign political vessel, and there has been some result. I can continue to do so wherever necessary. But if I took up that work openly again, associating with the political leaders and working with them, it would be supporting an alien law of being and a false political life.'

Towards the end of the letter Sri Aurobindo warned against some failings and weaknesses in the Bengali temperament, viz, a proneness to 'emotional excitement' and a tendency to 'pick up things the easy way — knowledge without thought, results without labour, spiritual perfection after an easy discipline'. Then comes a magnificent passage: do not wish to make emotional excitement, feeling and mental enthusiasm the base any longer. I want to make a vast and strong equality the foundation of my yoga; in all the activities of the being, which will be based on that equality I want a complete, firm and unshakable power; over that ocean of power I want the radiation of the sun of Knowledge and in that luminous vastness, an established ecstasy of infinite love and bliss and oneness. I do not want tens of thousands of disciples. It will be enough if I can get as instruments of God one hundred complete men free from petty egoism. I have no confidence in guruhood of the usual type. I do not want to be a guru. What I want is for someone, awakened by my touch or by that of another, to manifest from within his sleeping divinity and to realise the divine life. Such men will uplift this country.'

A few words about Motilal Roy and the Prahartak Sangha may not be out of place here. From the time Motilal gave shelter to Sri Aurobindo at Chandernagore, he enjoyed Sri Aurobindo's trust and confidence. On his part, Motilal visited Pondicherry as often as he could during the difficult period of Sri Aurobindo's early stay and helped by sending money etc. from Chandernagore. There is no doubt that Sri Aurobindo put a special force on Motilal to mould him into a fit instrument for the work in Bengal. In 1914, a beginning was made when Motilal Roy gathered together a small group at Chandernagore to give a concrete form to Sri Aurobindo's conception of a spiritual commune. Motilal drew his inspiration from Sri Aurobindo who gave him detailed instructions from time to time. A Bengali fortnightly journal, Prabartak, was started in September 1915 and later an English weekly, the Standard Bearer. Sri Aurobindo wrote occasionally for both the journals. The Sangha at first made good progress — its watchwords were 'Commune, Culture and Commerce' — and visitors who came to Chandernagore spoke highly of the organisation which became quite well known, filling a vacuum in the spiritual and cultural life of Bengal at that time. So long as Motilal Roy remained in touch with Pondicherry and was receptive to Sri Aurobindo's spiritual force, the Sangha moved in the right direction; but afterwards it changed its course. In 1921 Motilal came to Pondicherry with his wife for an intensive pursuit of sadhana but he could not adjust himself to the changes he saw and was unable to settle down. After a period of vacillation he eventually left on August 10, in spite of Sri Aurobindo's advice to him to stay on. This hurried departure practically marked the end of Sri Aurobindo's association with Motilal and the Prabartak Sangha. In the course of a conversation with his disciples in 1926, Sri Aurobindo said.. 'At the time I had some construction in my mind. Of course, there was something behind it which I knew to be true. Even then I was not sure that it would work out successfully. Anyway, I wanted to give it a trial and gave that idea to Motilal. Then he took up the idea and, as you know, he took it up with all his vital being and in an egoistic way. So the vital forces found their chance. They tried to take possession of the work and the workers.'

Like Motilal Roy, Paul Richard found himself unable to bear the pressures of sadhana and take the path of complete self-surrender. Perhaps his approach was too mental or vitalistic. In any case, he decided that he could not stay on indefinitely in Pondicherry and he left after a few months never to return. Yet he retained his profound admiration for Sri Aurobindo.

After his departure, Mirra and Datta continued to stay at Bayoud House but it was an old building and particularly vulnerable during the cyclonic storms which swept over Pondicherry from time to time. On November 24, 1920, there was a great tempest followed by heavy rainfall. Nolini Kanta writes in his reminiscences: 'The house [where the Mother was staying] was old and looked as if it was going to melt away. Sri Aurobindo said, "Mirra cannot be allowed to stay there any longer. She must move into our place." That is how the Mother came into our midst and stayed on for good, as our Mother.'

The Mother gradually took charge of the household arrangements, after moving into the 'Guest House' with Datta. The young inmates were at first somewhat nonplussed and uneasy at this sudden 'invasion' by the two European ladies, as it was a jolt to their rather bohemian way of life. Initially there was some resistance but the Mother's loving kindness and her unobtrusive ways soon won them over and they learned to accept the changes that came about. Purani, who had first come in 1918, came again in 1921, and on this occasion he noted: 'The house had undergone a great change. There was a clean garden in the open courtyard, every room had simple and decent furniture, — a mat, a chair and a small table. There was an air of tidiness and order. This was no doubt the effect of Mother's presence.'

The real change, however, was not so much in the outward mode of living but, as Nolini Kanta has recounted in his reminiscences, 'Our life itself took on a different turn with the arrival of the Mother. How and in what direction? It was like this. The Mother came and installed Sri Aurobindo on his high pedestal as Master and Lord of Yoga. We had hitherto known him as a dear friend and close companion, and although in our mind and heart he had the position of a Guru, in our outward relations we seemed to behave as if he were just like one of ourselves. He too had been averse to the use of the words "guru" and "Ashram" in relation to himself, for there was hardly a place in his work of new creation for the old traditional associations these words conveyed. Nevertheless, the Mother taught by her manner and speech and showed us in actual practice, the meaning of disciple and Master; she has always practised what she preached. She showed us, by not taking her seat in front of or on the same level as Sri Aurobindo, but by sitting on the ground, what it meant to be respectful to one's Master, what was real courtesy. Sri Aurobindo once said to us, perhaps with a tinge of regret, "I have tried to stoop as low as I can, and yet you do not reach me."'

During his visit in 1921, Ambalal Purani noticed an even more remarkable change than the one he had seen before. He writes: 'But the greatest surprise of my visit in 1921 was the "darshan" of Sri Aurobindo. During the interval of two years his body had undergone a transformation which could only be described as miraculous. In 1918 the colour of the body was that of an ordinary Bengali — rather dark, though there was a lustre on the face and the gaze was penetrating. Now on going upstairs to see him I found his cheeks wore an apple-pink colour and the whole body glowed with a soft creamy white light. So great and unexpected was the change that I could not help exclaiming: "What has happened to you?" Instead of giving a direct reply he parried the question; as I had grown a beard he asked: "And what has happened to you?" But afterwards in the course of our talk he explained to me that when the Higher Consciousness, after descending to the mental level, comes down to the vital and even below the vital, then a transformation takes place in the nervous and even in the physical being....'

I shall now turn to an incident, or rather a series of incidents, which took place towards the end of 1921 in what later came to be called the 'Guest House'. In describing the events I will not use my own words. Many years later, in the course of her 'Wednesday classes' for the students and sadhaks of the Ashram, the Mother gave a detailed account of what had happened and I shall quote extensively from her narration.

‘We had a cook called Vatel. This cook was rather bad-tempered and didn't like being reproved about his work. However, he was in contact with some Musulmans who had, it seems, magical powers — they had a book of magic and the ability to practise magic. One day, this cook had done something very bad and had been scolded [by Dana] — and he was furious. He had threatened us saying: "You will see, you will be compelled to leave this house." We had taken no notice of it.

‘Two or three days later, I think, someone came and told me that stones had fallen in the courtyard — a few stones, three or four; bits of brick. We wondered who was throwing stones from the next house. We did exactly what we forbid children to do: we went round on the walls and the roofs to see if we could find someone or the stones or something — we found nothing.

That happened, I believe, between four and five in the afternoon. As the day declined, the number of stones increased. The next day, there were still more. They started striking specially the door of the kitchen and one of them struck Datta's arm as she was going across the courtyard. The number increased very much.... I must tell you that this Vatel had informed us that he was ill and for the last two days — since the stones had started falling — he hadn't come. But he had left with us his under-cook, a young boy of about thirteen or fourteen, quite fat, somewhat lifeless and a little quiet, perhaps a little stupid. And we noticed that when this boy moved around, wherever he went the stones increased. The young men who were there... shut the boy up in a room, with all the doors and windows closed; they started making experiments like the spiritists: "Close all the doors, close all the windows." And there was the boy sitting there inside and the stones began falling, with all the doors and windows closed! And more and more fell, and finally the boy was wounded in the leg. Then they started feeling the thing was going too far.

‘I was with Sri Aurobindo: quietly we were working, meditating together. The boys cast a furtive glance to see what was going on and began warning us, for it was perhaps time to tell us that the thing was taking pretty serious proportions. I understood immediately what the matter was.

...Then I said: "All right, send the boy out of the house immediately. Send him to another house, anywhere, and let him be looked after, but don't keep him here, and then, that's all. Keep quiet and don't be afraid." I was in the room with Sri Aurobindo and I thought, "We'll see what it is." I went into meditation and gave a little call. I said: "Let us see, who is throwing stones at us now? You must come and tell us who is throwing stones."...I saw three little entities of the vital, those small entities which have no strength and just enough consciousness confined to one action — it is nothing at all, but these entities are at the service of people who practise magic. When people practise magic, they order them to come and they are compelled to obey. There are signs, there are words. So, they came, they were frightened — they were terribly frightened! I said, "But why do you fling stones like that? What does it mean, this bad joke?" They replied, "We are compelled. We are compelled... It is not our fault, we have been ordered to do it, it is not our fault."

'I really felt so much like laughing but still I kept a serious face and told them, "Well, you must stop this, you understand!" Then they told me, "Don't you want to keep us? We shall do all that you ask." "Ah!" I thought, "let us see, this is perhaps going to be interesting." I said to them, "But what can you do?" — "We know how to throw stones." — "That doesn't interest me at all. I don't want to throw stones at anyone...but could you perchance bring me flowers? Can you bring me some roses?" Then they looked at each other in great dismay and answered, "No, we are not made for that, we don't know how to do it." I said, "I don't need you, go away and take care specially never to come back, for otherwise it would be disastrous!" They ran away and never came back.

'There was one thing I had noticed: it was only at the level of the roof that the stones were seen — from the roof downwards, we saw the stones; just till the roof, above it there were no stones. This meant that it was like an automatic formation. In the air nothing could be seen: they materialised in the atmosphere of the house and fell.

‘And to complete the movement, the next morning — all this happened in the evening — the next morning I came down to pay a visit to the kitchen — there were pillars in the kitchen — and upon one of the pillars I found some signs with numbers as though made with a bit of charcoal, very roughly drawn — I don't remember the signs now — and also words in Tamil. Then I rubbed out everything carefully and made an invocation, and so it was finished, the comedy was over.

‘However, not quite. Vatel's daughter was ayah in the house, the maid-servant. She came early in the afternoon in a state of intense fright saying, "My father is in the hospital, he is dying; this morning something happened to him; suddenly he felt very ill and he is dying, he has been taken to the hospital, I am terribly frightened." I knew what it was. I went to Sri Aurobindo and said to him, "You know, Vatel is in the hospital, he is dying." Then Sri Aurobindo looked at me and smiled: "Oh! just for a few stones!"

‘That very evening Vatel was cured. But he never started anything again.'

In explaining how the stones materialised and could be seen, the Mother said: 'There are beings who have the power of dematerialising and rematerialising ob"jects. These were quite ordinary pieces of bricks but they materialised only in the field where the magic acted. The magic was practised for this house, specially for its courtyard, and the action of vital forces worked only there. That was why when I sent away the boy and he went to another house, not a single stone hit him any more. The magical formation was made specially for this house and the stones materialised in the courtyard. And as it was something specially directed against Datta, she was hit on the arm.... There was something else. We came to know later to which magician Vatel had gone. He was very well known here. Vatel asked him to make stones fall in our house. The magician said: "But that's the house Sri Aurobindo lives in. No, I am not going to meddle in this business." However, he could not resist the lure of money, but he said, "In a circle of 25 metres around Sri Aurobindo the stones will not fall." That is why not a single stone came near us!'

I have given you the Mother's narration in some detail because the facts provide a striking illustration of what is called Black Magic. Our ordinary intelligence is quite baffled when it comes across such phenomena and tends to disbelieve them. But they are true enough and they are by no means mysterious or inexplicable to those who have the knowledge of occult science. You may recall Hamlet's words to Horatio in Shakespeare's play, apropos of the Ghost which appeared before them: 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'

From January 1, 1922, the Mother took full charge of the management of the household. The number of residents, including Sri Aurobindo and the Mother, had now increased to nine. In addition to the four companions who initially came with Sri Aurobindo, K. Amrita became an inmate in 1919, followed by Barin, who arrived after his exchange of letters with Sri Aurobindo, and by Datta who came with the Mother. With the increase in the number of inmates it became necessary to find additional accommodation. In September 1922 Sri Aurobindo, the Mother, Datta and a few others moved to a house in rue de la Marine. This building, which later came to be known as the 'Library House', now forms the south-western part of the complex of constructions which constitute the main buildings of Sri Aurobindo Ashram. The other house in rue Francois Martin was retained; some visitors as well as inmates were housed there and it acquired the name 'Guest House'.

As the number of residents grew, the nucleus of a small spiritual community formed itself without any preconceived planning; it developed as an organic growth with Sri Aurobindo as its centre. His own personal routine did not follow a rigid or inflexible pattern binding on everyone, although everything was subordinated to the needs of Sri Aurobindo's sadhana. In general, however, the mornings (usually after breakfast between 9 and 11) were set aside for interviews with visitors whose numbers continued to increase. Around four in the afternoon there was collective meditation (this practice had commenced in 1921, after the Mother's arrival) in which Sri Aurobindo and the Mother participated and which practically all the inmates attended. Later in the evening, the disciples and permitted visitors gathered together for a sitting during which Sri Aurobindo replied to questions and took part in the discussions that followed. This was a very informal gathering with no fixed time and depended on Sri Aurobindo's leisure; in fact these 'Evening Talks' were a continuation of the earlier sittings which used to be held in the first floor verandah of the Guest House from 1918 onwards. In the Library House also there was a verandah on the first floor where the sittings took place. The disciples and the visitors sat on the floor; for Sri Aurobindo there was a chair and a small table in front of it. With an air of expectancy the gathering waited for Sri Aurobindo to come. Purani writes: 'He came dressed as usual in a dhoti, part of which was used by him to cover the upper part of his body. Very rarely did he come out with a chaddar or shawl, and then it was "in deference to the climate" as he sometimes put it. At times for minutes he would be gazing at the sky from a small opening at the top of the grass-curtains that covered the verandah in 9, rue de la Marine. How much these sittings were dependent on him may be gathered from the fact that there were days when more than three-fourths of the time passed in complete silence without any outer suggestion from him.... The whole thing was so informal that one could never predict the turn the conversation would take. The whole house therefore was in a mood to enjoy the freshness and the delight of meeting the unexpected. There were peals of laughter and light talk, jokes and criticism which might be called personal, — there was seriousness and earnestness in abundance.'

Purani became an inmate early in 1923 and from then on he kept detailed notes of the Evening Talks. Although not intended for publication, these later appeared in book form and provide fascinating glimpses of Sri Aurobindo's views on an immense variety of subjects including sadhana, politics, art, literature, education, medicine, etc. However, it is important to remember that the record of these talks was not seen by Sri Aurobindo, and Purani himself writes in his Introduction to Evening Talks: 'What was said in the small group informally was not intended by Sri Aurobindo to be the independent expression of his views on the subjects, events or the persons discussed. Very often what he said was in answer to the spiritual need of the individual or of the collective atmosphere. It was like a spiritual remedy meant to produce certain spiritual results, not a philosophical or metaphysical pronouncement on questions, events or movements. The net result of some talks very often was to point out to the disciples the inherent incapacity of the human intellect and its secondary place in the search for the ultimate Reality.'

During the first years of her stay in the Library House the Mother continued to keep herself in the background. However, her presence and influence were increasingly felt by the disciples not only in their community life but in matters of sadhana also. The disciples could see for themselves how frequently her advice was sought by Sri Aurobindo and how closely she was consulted by him in matters of yoga. Nolini Kanta writes in his reminiscences: 'In the beginning, Sri Aurobindo would refer to the Mother quite distinctly as Mirra. For sometime afterwards (this may have extended over a period of years) we could notice that he stopped at the sound of M and uttered the full name Mirra as if after a slight hesitation. To us it looked rather queer at the time, but later we came to know the reason. Sri Aurobindo's lips were on the verge of saying "Mother"; but we had yet to get ready, so he ended with Mirra instead of saying Mother. No one knows for certain on which particular date, at what auspicious moment, the word "Mother" was uttered by the lips of Sri Aurobindo but that was a divine moment in unrecorded time....' Gradually as Sri Aurobindo's sadhana grew more and more in its intensity, it was he who receded into the background and the disciples learnt increasingly to turn to the Mother for inspiration and guidance.

Let me now tell you briefly about some of the visitors who met Sri Aurobindo during this period. They came from all walks of life: some were followers or associates from his political days; others came as intending disciples, and yet others who knew not why they came were drawn by the aura of his magnetic personality. I shall mention only a few of these visits and only those where there is a sufficient record of the meeting or interview to throw light on Sri Aurobindo's views or to reveal a facet of his personality.

Towards the end of 1920, Sarala Devi, a niece of Rabindranath Tagore, met Sri Aurobindo on two days. She was a well-known litterateur and was then deeply concerned with Gandhiji's non-cooperation movement. Purani has provided a record of the interview from which I shall give you a few excerpts:

SARALA DEVI: Is it true that you are against the non-cooperation movement?

SRI AUROBINDO: I am not against it; the train has arrived, it must be allowed to run its own course. The only thing I feel is that there is a great need of solidifying the national will for freedom into stern action.

SARALA DEVI: Non-cooperation has declared war against imperialism.

SRI AUROBINDO: Yes, it has, but I am afraid it is done without proper ammunition, and mobilisation and organisation of the available forces.

SARALA DEW: Why don't you come out and try to run your own train?

SRI AUROBINDO: I must first prepare the rails and lay them down, then only can I get the train to arrive....

SARALA DEVI: Don't you think that sufficient work has been done in the country to start the fight?

SRI AUROBINDO: Until now only waves of emotion and a certain all-round awakening have come but the force which could stand the strain when the government would put forth its force in full vigour is still not there....

SARALA DEVI: I find many people ridicule non-cooperation. ...What is your frank personal opinion?

SRI AUROBINDO: We have qualified sympathy with the movement; sympathy is there because we have the same objective; it is qualified because we feel the basis is not sound.... Some students from Madras came here the other day and told me that they wanted to non-cooperate because the government was unjust. Asked whether they would put up with a just British government they could not reply. India must want freedom because of herself, because of her own Spirit.... Our basis must be broader than that of mere opposition to the British government. All the time our eyes are turned to the British and their actions. We must look to ourselves irrespective of them and having found our own nationhood make it free.

Sarojini, Sri Aurobindo's sister, came in 1921. Sri Aurobindo went to the railway station to receive her as well as to see her off. He gave her the publication rights of his book War and Self-determination to help her.

Around this time, there came an unusual visitor. One day, a tall well-dressed sannyasi appeared, complete with long matted hair, iron tongs and a staff, and accompanied by a few chelas. He begged for Sri Aurobindo's darshan. When there was some hesitation in meeting his request, he muttered softly to one of those present to inform Sri Aurobindo that Gabriel had come. When this was conveyed to Sri Aurobindo, he is said to have exclaimed, in astonishment 'Good Lord!' For Gabriel was the code name he had himself given to Amarendranath Chatterjee, the young revolutionary who was personally initiated by him into the movement. You will also recall that Amar was one of those who were closely associated with Sri Aurobindo's get-away from Chandernagore. The visitor was then taken to Sri Aurobindo and there was a happy reunion. Amar was a revolutionary much wanted by the police and in order to escape from their clutches he had assumed the garb of a sannyasi. He took the name Swami Kevalananda and wandered all over the .country, collecting some disciples in the process. Sri Aurobindo advised him to return to Bengal and, in the changed circumstances after the war, to disclose his identity but refrain from revolutionary activities. The next morning 'Gabriel' left, to carry out Sri Aurobindo's instructions.

During 1922 C.R. Das wrote to Sri Aurobindo urging him to reenter politics and assume the leadership of the Congress which was then in the throes of a controversy between the b'charigers' and 'non-changers' over the question of seeking election to the enlarged legislative councils provided under the new Government of India Act. Sri Aurobindo's reply, sent through his brother Barin in November, was on the lines of his earlier letters to Baptista and Dr. Munje. 'I have become confirmed in a perception,' he wrote, '...that the true basis of work and life is the spiritual, — that is to say a new consciousness to be developed only by Yoga. I see more and more manifestly that man can never get out of the futile circle the race is always treading until he has raised himself to a new foundation.... I am determined not to work in the external field till I have the sure and complete possession of this new power of action, — not to build except on a perfect foundation.' In June 1923 C.R. Das, who was then on a political tour of South India, came to Pondicherry and met Sri Aurobindo. Das, Motilal Nehru and like-minded leaders had by then broken away from the Congress to found the Swaraj Party and participate in the elections to the legislative assemblies. C.R. Das requested Sri Aurobindo to give his support to the new party. Sri Aurobindo declined to do so openly but assured Das of his spiritual help. It seems that at this time C.R. Das also sought to be initiated into Sri Aurobindo's Yoga but Sri Aurobindo did not agree to accept him as a disciple. Commenting on this many years later Sri Aurobindo said: 'He was the last of the old group. He came here and wanted to be a disciple. I said he wouldn't be able to go through in Yoga as long as he was in the political movement. Besides, his health was shattered.' Indeed Das had not many more years to live and he passed away on June 16, 1925. Sri Aurobindo paid a memorable tribute to his old associate: 'Chittaranjan's death is a supreme loss. Consummately endowed with political intelligence, magnetism, personality, force of will, tact of the hour and an uncommon plasticity of mind, he was the one man after Tilak who could have led India to Swaraj.'

G.V. Subbarao, a political leader from Andhra, met Sri Aurobindo in October 1923 and the visit is interesting because of a vivid pen-picture which Subbarao drew subsequently. He wrote: 'Sri Aurobindo was dazzling bright in colour — it was said that, in his earlier years, he was more dark than brown — and had a long, rather thin beard which was well dressed with streaks of white strewn here and there. The figure was slender and not much taller than Gandhiji's but a bit more fleshy. The eyes were big and elongated to a point and their looks were keen and piercing like shells. He was dressed in fine cotton — not khaddar evidently. He had only two clothes on, one a dhoti and the other an upper cloth worn in the traditional fashion of an Upaveetam, i.e. right arm and shoulder exposed....

‘His voice was low, but quite audible and musical. He was fast in his flow of speech, clear like a crystal and analytical to a degree. In a fifteen-minute talk, he gave me his philosophy in a nutshell. He was simple and courteous, outspoken and free in his interrogation. It seemed as though he could know a man by the sweep of his eyes, and read men's minds from a survey of their photographs. He appeared as one highly cognisant of the value of time.... He was kind throughout, as to a child, but I could discern enough in his demeanour to conclude that he could be stern and imperious when required.'

A notable visitor in January 1924 was Dilip Kumar Roy. Son of the famous poet and dramatist, Dwijendra Lai Roy, Dilip had already made a name for himself as a singer, and with his many talents he could have had a glittering career, but there was a restless urge in him which drew him to the spiritual path. Sri Aurobindo gave him a long interview which has been faithfully recorded in Ray's well-known book, Among the Great. It is worth reading in full and I will refrain from giving you extracts except to quote his first impressions when he was taken to Sri Aurobindo: 'A radiant personality! sang the very air about him. A deep aura of peace encircled him, an ineffable yet concrete peace that drew you at once into its magic orbit. But it was the eyes that fascinated me most — shining like beacons.' Dilip Roy was later to join the Ashram and as a disciple he had a specially close relationship with Sri Aurobindo.

Sometime during this period Gandhiji sent his son Devdas to meet Sri Aurobindo and know his mind on the problems before the country. It seems that the interview was not a success. When Devdas asked for Sri Aurobindo's views on non-violence, he posed the counter-question: 'Suppose there is an invasion of India by the Afghans, how are you going to meet it with non-violence?' It also appears that Devdas asked — perhaps not in very good taste — why Sri Aurobindo was 'attached to smoking'? And the answer he received was: 'Why are you attached to non-smoking?' It was difficult for Devdas Gandhi to appreciate that Sri Aurobindo had practised and perfected samata, equality, as part of his sadhana and there was no field of life where it was not applied. Even when there happened to be no salt in the food, he would say nothing. Later, if anyone complained, he would merely remark: 'Yes, today there was no salt.' As for smoking, in 1926 Sri Aurobindo gave it up at one effortless stroke.

The following year in January 1925, two other political leaders, Lala Lajpat Rai and Purushottamdas Tandon came to meet Sri Aurobindo. Lajpat Rai, a stalwart of the Nationalist movement, had a private interview with Sri Aurobindo for 45 minutes. Then they were joined by Tandon and others. The following excerpt from A.B. Purani's record of the conversation is of interest.

SRI AUROBINDO: How are things getting on at Allahabad?

P. T.: We are trying to carry out Mahatmaji's programme.

LAJPAT RAI: Are you really trying to carry it out? (turning to Sri Aurobindo) They are trying to capture local bodies.

P. T.: I am not in favour of that programme, because it will lead in the end to lust for power and then personal differences and jealousies would also creep in. We cannot, in that case, justify the high hopes which people have about our work.

LAJPAT RAI: They expect you to usher in the golden age.

SRI AUROBINDO: But why do you give them such high hopes?

LAJPAT RAI: In the democratic age you have to.

SRI AUROBINDO: Why?

LAJPAT RAI: If you want to get into the governing bodies you must make big promises; that is the nature of democracy!

SRI AUROBINDO: Then, why democracy at all? The lust for power will always be there. You can't get over it by shutting out all positions of power; our workers must get accustomed to it. They must learn to hold the positions for the nation. This difficulty would be infinitely greater when you get Swaraj. These things are there even in Europe. The Europeans are just the same as we are. Only, they have got discipline — which we lack — and a keen sense of national honour.

As I have mentioned, many people came to Sri Aurobindo, some with a genuine seeking to follow his Yoga. Even so, only a few were accepted as disciples, for Sri Aurobindo laid stress on the special difficulties of the path and the need for complete self-surrender. Of those who were accepted I shall mention only two who were outstanding as disciples. Champaklal, a young man of eighteen from Gujarat, first came in 1921. He then went back but returned in 1923, this time to stay for good. He later served both the Mother and Sri Aurobindo as a personal attendant with rare dedication and devotion. Towards the end of 1925, a young Frenchman, Phillippe Barbier Saint-Hilaire, came to meet Sri Aurobindo. He was a brilliant graduate of the prestigious Ecole de Polytechnique in Paris and, had he wished, could have been an engineer of the first rank. But his spiritual quest led him first to Japan and then to a lamasery in Mongolia. There also he did not find what he was seeking; so he came to Pondicherry. He met Sri Aurobindo and never left. When he was accepted as a disciple Sri Aurobindo gave him a new name, 'Pavitra'. Subsequently he served the Mother as her secretary for foreign correspondence etc. and also played a leading role when the International Centre of Education was established at the Ashram.

By 1926, the number of inmates had increased to 25; they came mostly from Bengal, Gujarat and the South, whilst two, Datta and Pavitra, came from countries beyond the shores of India. The foundations of the Ashram had begun to be laid.

We come now to the great day, November 24, 1926, known as the Day of Siddhi. For sometime past the disciples could see that Sri Aurobindo was more and more absorbed in his sadhana. Often he would be late in coming for the evening talks — on one occasion he came at two o'clock in the morning! The feeling grew among the disciples that some Higher Power would soon descend and the expectation was strengthened by the various references Sri Aurobindo made in his talks to its distinct possibility. In the course of a talk on his birthday in 1925, Sri Aurobindo mentioned that the universal conditions were more ready now for the coming down of the Supermind. He said:

‘Firstly, the knowledge of the physical world has increased so much that it is on the verge of breaking its own bounds.

‘Secondly, there is an attempt all over the world towards breaking the veil between the outer and the inner mental, the outer and the inner vital and even the outer and the inner physical. Men are becoming more "psychic".

‘Thirdly, the vital is trying to lay its hold on the physical as it never did before.... Also, the world is becoming more united on account of the discoveries of modern science.... Such a union is the condition for the highest Truth coming down and it is also our difficulty. Fourthly, the rise of persons who wield tremendous vital influence over large numbers of men.

‘These are some of the signs to show that the universal condition may be more ready now.'

On the other hand, Sri Aurobindo also stressed that there was still great resistance in the earth atmosphere to the Truth descending and said: 'I find that the more the Light and Power are coming down the greater is the resistance. You yourself can see that there is something pressing down. You can also see that there is tremendous resistance... I am not doing an isolated yoga.... If I were seeking my own liberation and perfection, my yoga would have been finished long ago.'

Let me return to November 24, 1926. There were 24 disciples who had the good fortune to be present on that momentous day. Purani was one of them and I shall quote from his Life of Sri Aurobindo to give you an eye-witness account:

‘From the beginning of November 1926 the pressure of the Higher Power began to be unbearable. Then at last the great day, the day for which the Mother had been waiting for so many long years, arrived on 24th November. The sun had almost set, and everyone was occupied with his own activity — some had gone out to the seaside for a walk — when the Mother sent word to all the disciples to assemble as soon as possible in the verandah where the usual meditation was held. It did not take long for the message to go round to all. By six o'clock most of the disciples had gathered. It was becoming dark. In the verandah on the wall near Sri Aurobindo's door, just behind his chair, a black silk curtain with gold lace work representing three Chinese dragons was hung. The three dragons were so represented that the tail of one reached up to the mouth of the other and the three of them covered the curtain from end to end. We came to know afterwards that there is a prophecy in China that the Truth will manifest itself on earth when the three dragons (the dragons of the earth, of the mid-region and of the sky) meet. Today on 24 November the Truth was descending and the hanging of the curtain was significant.

‘There was a deep silence in the atmosphere after the disciples had gathered there. Many saw an oceanic flood of Light rushing down from above. Everyone present felt a kind of pressure above his head. The whole atmosphere was surcharged with some electrical energy. In that silence, in that atmosphere full of concentrated expectation and aspiration, in the electrically charged atmosphere, the usual, yet on this day quite unusual, tick was heard behind the door of the entrance. Expectation rose in a flood. Sri Aurobindo and the Mother could be seen through the half-opened door. The Mother with a gesture of her eyes requested Sri Aurobindo to step out first. Sri Aurobindo with a similar gesture suggested to her to do the same. With a slow dignified step the Mother came out first, followed by Sri Aurobindo with his majestic gait. The small table that used to be in front of Sri Aurobindo's chair was removed this day. The Mother sat on a small stool to his right.

‘Silence absolute, living silence, not merely living but overflowing with divinity. The meditation lasted about forty-five minutes. After that one by one the disciples bowed to the Mother.

‘She and Sri Aurobindo gave blessings to them. Whenever a disciple bowed to the Mother, Sri Aurobindo's right hand came forward behind the Mother's as if blessing him through the

Mother. After the blessings in the same silence there was a short meditation.

'In the interval of silent meditation and blessings many had distinct experiences. When all was over they felt as if they had awakened from a divine dream. Then they felt the grandeur, the poetry and the absolute beauty of the occasion. It was not as if a handful of disciples were receiving blessings from their Supreme Master and the Mother in one little corner of the earth. The significance of the occasion was far greater than that. It was certain that a Higher Consciousness had descended on earth. In that deep silence had burgeoned forth, like the sprout of a banyan tree, the beginning of a mighty spiritual work. This momentous occasion carried its significance to all in the divine dynamism of the silence, in its unearthly dignity and grandeur and in the utter beauty of its every little act. The deep impress of divinity which everyone got was for him a priceless treasure.

'Sri Aurobindo and the Mother went inside. Immediately Datta was inspired. In that silence she spoke: "The Lord has descended into the physical today."'

What, you may ask, is the significance of the Siddhi Day, the Day of Victory as the Mother called it? Well, mental explanations of a spiritual event, specially one of such magnitude, can never be really adequate, and it is best to listen to Sri Aurobindo's own words. In a letter to me he wrote: '24th November 1926 is the day when Sri Krishna descended into the body. His descent means the descent of the Overmind God which will prepare the descent of the Supermind.' To another disciple he wrote: '24th was the descent of Krishna into the physical. Krishna is not the supra-mental Light. The descent of Krishna would mean the descent of the Overmind Godhead preparing, though not itself actually, the descent of the Supermind and Ananda. Krishna is the Anandamaya; he supports the evolution through the Overmind leading it towards the Ananda.'

Sri Aurobindo tells us that between Mind and Supermind there are various intermediate planes or ranges of consciousness, each with its characteristic Light, Power and Knowledge, and the Overmind is the highest of these ranges. He said that the Overmind has to be reached and brought down before the Supramental Descent is at all possible. The 'Descent of Krishna' signified the fullness of the Overmental realisation, the Descent of the Divine into the very physical consciousness of Sri Aurobindo, and it was the culmination of all his previous realisations. It marked a decisive stage in his sadhana and paved the way for the Supramental Descent — the goal of Sri Aurobindo's Yoga.

Outwardly, too, there was a great change. Sri Aurobindo announced that he would go into complete seclusion to concentrate on his Yoga. Henceforward the Mother would take up the direct charge of the community of sadhaks — their inner sadhana as well as the outer organisation. It is so that November 24, 1926, is regarded as the day when the Sri Aurobindo Ashram was founded.