Sri Aurobindo for All Ages

XII: The Integral Yoga and the Ashram (1927-1938)

DURING the weeks and months that followed the Siddhi Day, the Ashram went through a remarkable phase, known as its 'brilliant period'. Isiolini Kanta writes in his reminiscences: 'The Mother would now sit down daily for her meditations with all of us together, in the evening after nightfall. She made a special arrangement for our seating. To her right would sit one group and to her left another, both arranged in rows. The right side of the Mother represented Light, and the left was Power. Each of us found a seat to her right or left according to the turn of our nature or the inner being.... The Mother's endeavour at that time was for a new creation, the creation here of a new inner world of the Divine Consciousness. She had brought down the Higher Forces, the Gods, into the earth atmosphere, into our inner being and consciousness.' In one of her talks in later years the Mother herself referred to this period and said: 'After 24 November 1926 suddenly, immediately, things took a certain form: a very brilliant creation was being worked out in extraordinary details, with marvellous experiences, contact with divine beings, and all sorts of manifestations usually considered miraculous. Experiences followed one upon another, indeed, things were unfolding altogether brilliantly and... I must say, in an extremely interesting way.' However, when she spoke to Sri Aurobindo about the prospect of this new creation, Sri Aurobindo said: 'Yes, this is an Overmind creation.... You will perform miracles which will make you famous throughout the world, you will be able to turn all events on earth topsy-turvy.... It will be a great success.... And it is not success we want; we want to establish the Supermind on earth. One must know how to renounce immediate success in order to create the new world, the supramental world in its integrality.' So the Mother discontinued the experiment. There was another factor which influenced the decision. Many of the sadhaks could not bear the pressure of the descents brought down by the Mother. In this context Sri Aurobindo once wrote to a disciple: 'In those days when the Mother was either receiving the sadhaks for meditation or otherwise working and concentrating all night and day without sleep and with very irregular food, there was no ill-health and no fatigue in her and things were proceeding with a lightning swiftness.... Afterwards, because the lower vital and the physical of the sadhaks could not follow, the Mother had to push the Divine Personalities and Powers, through which she was doing the action, behind a veil and come down into the physical human level and act according to its conditions.'

Meanwhile the number of inmates in the Ashram continued to increase. From twenty-five in 1926 it went up to thirty-six in 1927 and to eighty by the end of the following year; within the next five years, the number nearly doubled itself. This continuous growth meant an enormous increase in the Mother's work, not only in guiding the sadhana of the growing number of disciples but also in directing the physical organisation of the Ashram. More houses had to be rented, facilities had to be expanded and an increasing number of Services such as Building Service, Electric Service, Domestic Service, Laundry, etc. had either to be started or enlarged. The work given to each disciple was meant to be carried out by him as part of his sadhana, as Karma Yoga, and he was encouraged to take his problems and difficulties to the Mother. Also, those who were given charge of the Service Departments were required to prepare monthly reports which were submitted to the Mother and Sri Aurobindo for their perusal. As the Ashram grew, the number of visitors also increased and they were invariably impressed to see the quiet efficiency with which everything was carried out and the smooth coordination of all the Ashram activities. From its very day of .inception, the Ashram bore the imprint of the Mother's organisational genius. Indeed this was not an Ashram in the usual sense of the term; its members were not sannyasis, pursuing a life of meditative retirement, and each sadhak was expected to do some work in the Ashram as part of his spiritual preparation. Commenting on the character of the Ashram, Sri Aurobindo wrote: 'This Ashram has been created with another object than that ordinarily common to such institutions, not for the renunciation of the world but as a centre and field of practice for the evolution of another kind and form of life which would in the final end be moved by a higher spiritual consciousness and embody a greater life of the spirit.'

Here you may ask: what was the basis adopted for selecting the inmates how could one become a disciple? A difficult question to answer in a few words. The sadhaks came from all walks of life —some were engineers, doctors or administrators; others were intellectuals or scholars; and some others were apparently very ordinary persons who could not be conveniently fitted into a conventional category. Sri Aurobindo once told a disciple that the Mother's choice of sadhaks was not exclusively governed by their spiritual advancement or intellectual brilliance: 'She selects different types.... She wants to observe how the Divine works in different types.' And in a letter Sri Aurobindo wrote: 'It is necessary or rather inevitable that in an Ashram which is a "laboratory"... for a spiritual and supramental yoga, humanity should be variously represented. For the problem of transformation has to deal with all sorts of elements favourable and unfavourable. The same man indeed carries in him a mixture of these two things. If only sattwic and cultured men come for yoga, men without very much of the vital difficulty in them, then, because the difficulty of the vital element in terrestrial nature has not been faced and overcome, it might well be that the endeavour would fail.... Those in the Ashram come from all quarters and are of all kinds; it cannot be otherwise.' Indeed the Ashram community soon acquired a cosmopolitan cast with meti and women represented from different parts of India and also from other countries. It must not be thought, however, that each disciple was an 'ideal' type, and indeed there were many who had their full share of human weaknesses and frailties. Once, in a despondent mood, I wrote to Sri Aurobindo: 'Looking around and at one's self, one heaves a sigh and says — What disciples we are, of what a Master! I wish you had chosen or called some better stuff....' His reply, brief and characteristic, is highly significant: 'As to the disciples, I agree! — Yes, but would the better stuff, supposing it to exist, be typical of humanity? To deal with a few exceptional types would hardly solve the problem. And would they consent to follow my path — that is another question. And if they were put to the test, would not the common humanity suddenly reveal itself — that is still another question.'

Sri Aurobindo's decision in 1926, to retire into complete seclusion was a severe blow to some of the older sadhaks who were accustomed to meeting him every day or at least whenever the need arose. They felt as if abandoned and, unable fully to accept the Mother as their Guru, a few of them (including Barin, his brother) left the Ashram. But Sri Aurobindo would not relent and break the rule he had imposed. To one disciple he wrote: 'You consider that the Mother can be of no help to you.... If you cannot profit by her help, you would find still less profit in mine. But, in any case, I have no intention of altering the arrangement I have made for all the disciples without exception that they should receive the light and force from her and not directly from me and be guided by her in their spiritual progress. I have made the arrangement not for any temporary purpose but because it is the one way, provided the disciple is open and receives, that is true and effective.' Also, in reply to queries from disciples regarding the Mother's spiritual stature and her role in the Yoga, he wrote some wonderfully revealing letters which form part of the book, The Mother. It is small in size but a masterpiece and the elevated magnificence of its language acts as a mantra.

In the case of outside visitors, however, Sri Aurobindo did make one or two exceptions and on May 29,1928, he had a brief meeting with Rabindranath Tagore. The Poet was then on his way to Europe by sea and he disembarked at Pondicherry to meet Sri Aurobindo. Shortly afterwards, Rabindranath wrote an account of the meeting in Bengali and followed it up with an English version which appeared in The Modern Review. The Poet wrote: 'At the very first sight I could realise that he had been seeking for the soul and had gained it, and through this long process of realisation had accumulated within him a silent power of inspiration. His face was radiant with an inner light and his serene presence made it evident to me that his soul was not crippled and cramped to the measure of some tyrannical doctrine, which takes delight in inflicting wounds upon life.... felt that the utterance of the ancient Hindu Rishi spoke from him of that equanimity which gives the human soul its freedom of entrance into the All. I said to him, "You have the Word and we are waiting to accept it from you. India will speak through your voice to the world, 'Hearken to me.' "...

'Years ago I saw Aurobindo in the atmosphere of his earlier heroic youth and I sang to him,

"Aurobindo, accept the salutation from Rabindra."

'Today I saw him in a deeper atmosphere of a reticent richness of wisdom and again sang to him in silence,

"Aurobindo, accept the salutation from Rabindra."'

For many years very little had been written about Sri Aurobindo and he had receded from the public view. This appreciation by Tagore, whose name was widely known in the country, attracted a good deal of attention. On reading it many felt that Sri Aurobindo was not, after all, an 'extinct volcano'!

A disciple once asked Sri Aurobindo why it was necessary for him to be so strict about his seclusion. His reply was: 'It was meant as a temporary necessity: for, if I had to do all the work that the Mother was doing, my "real" work would have remained undone for want of time.' We should therefore try to understand for ourselves the nature of this 'real' work. And since the work he was engaged in was yogic in character, a few words about yoga may be helpful. To render it into the simplest terms, yoga means union, union with God, the Divine. To see Him, to be with Him and, in Sri Ramakrishna's words, to be able to speak to Him — this is our life's highest aim and purpose. All the ways and practices which lead to this union, are called paths of yoga. Many indeed are the ways and the means, but the aim is always the union of the soul of man with the Divine, the Self, God, Brahman, or whatever name we give to that One Reality.

It is possible for the soul of man to unite with the Divine because the soul — the psychic being, as Sri Aurobindo calls it — is a portion of the Divine and it is through this union that man can gain true Knowledge, 'knowledge by identity', in Sri Aurobindo's words Ordinarily, i.e. in our ordinary state of consciousness, we are unaware of our psychic being or of the Divine Consciousness and live in a state of ignorance and separation which are the real causes of our sorrow and suffering. The aim of yoga is to remove this lid of ignorance and the veil of separation so that the soul may live in oneness with the Divine in a state of knowledge and bliss.

In many of the traditional paths of yoga, it is considered necessary to renounce the world, to become a sannyasi, in order to find God because the world is looked upon as unreal, an illusion or Maya, and the aim is to realise the pure Spirit which is the sole Reality. In Sri Aurobindo's view, this ascetic renunciation is not necessary — Spirit and Matter, 'the two poles of existence', are not mutually exclusive or antagonistic, for Spirit is involved in Matter and is progressively manifesting itself in the material world through the evolutionary process. Sri Aurobindo teaches us that our world is the scene of an ascending evolution which goes from the stone to the plant, from the plant to the animal, and from the animal to man. But man, the mental being, is himself a transitional being, not the final end and summit of evolution. In the next step, man will develop a new and higher spiritual consciousness which Sri Aurobindo has called the Supramental consciousness. In The Life Divine he writes:

'As the impulse towards Mind ranges from the more sensitive reactions of Life in the metal and the plant up to its full organisation in man, so in man himself there is the same ascending series, the preparation, if nothing more, of a higher and divine life. The animal is a living laboratory in which Nature has, it is said, worked out man. Man himself may well be a thinking and living laboratory in whom and with whose conscious co-operation she wills to work out the superman, the god. Or shall we not say, rather, to manifest God? For if evolution is the progressive manifestation by Nature of that which slept or worked in her, involved, it is also the overt realisation of that which she secretly is. We cannot, then, bid her pause at a given stage of her evolution, nor have we the right to condemn with the religionist as perverse and presumptuous or with the rationalist as a disease or hallucination any intention she may evince or effort she may make to go beyond. if it be true that Spirit is involved in Matter and apparent Nature is secret God, then the manifestation of the divine in himself and the realisation of God within and without are the highest and most legitimate aim possible to man upon earth.'

You can now see why renunciation of the world has no place in Sri Aurobindo's yoga. What must be renounced, rejected completely, is the hold of egoism and of the lower movements of nature in man — the instincts, sensations, desires and passions of various kinds, the likings and dislikings, vanity, anger and a host of other things which bind man to his lower nature. Only then can the individual soul in man awaken, the inmost psychic being come into the forefront, governing and purifying his external mind, life and body, and lead him to a union with the Divine.

This individual realisation of the soul is the indispensable first step in Sri Aurobindo's Yoga, difficult and arduous as it is. But he bids us ascend further. The second step is the realisation of the universal or cosmic Self which is one in all and the perception of the One and Divine infinitely everywhere, 'sarvam khalvidam brahma', verily, all this that is is the Brahman. And still there is a third and final step: to rise beyond the individual and the universal to the Transcendent through the Supramental consciousness and to bring down the powers of the Supramental into mind, life and body for a total and perfect transformation.

We need not go into details here. In his Synthesis of Yoga and other writings Sri Aurobindo has dealt extensively with the stages involved and the psychological and other disciplines which we have to follow if we seek these realisations. He has called this sadhana the Integral Yoga. It combines many of the elements of the older yogas, the paths of Karma, Bhakti and Jnana, but also goes beyond them. There is one point, however, which I should like to stress here. Sri Aurobindo has repeatedly emphasised that there are no short-cuts in his Yoga. To seek the final stage of his Yoga without going through the earlier stages is not only futile but foolhardy and dangerous. And the Mother has said that to do the Integral Yoga one must first resolve to surrender entirely to the Divine: there is no other way — it is the only way. Then comes the practice, growth and perfection of the five psychological virtues —Sincerity, Faith, Devotion, Courage and Endurance. Truly, it is not an easy path.

We can now come back to the subject of the 'real' work Sri Aurobindo was engaged in: this was to bring down the Light and Power of the Supermind into the earth-consciousness through himself. Sri Aurobindo and the Mother represented in themselves the highest and deepest spiritual aspirations of humanity. As leaders of the evolution, it was their divine work to hasten the evolutionary process, to manifest the Supermind as its next decisive step. Sri Aurobindo has called the Supermind the 'Truth-Consciousness'. He writes: 'The essential character of Supermind is a Truth-Consciousness which knows by its own inherent right of nature, by its own light: it has not to arrive at knowledge but possesses it.' And again: 'Mind is an instrument of the Ignorance trying to know — Supermind is the Knower possessing knowledge.... It is a dynamic and not only a static Power, not only a Knowledge, but a Will according to Knowledge — there is a supramental Power or Shakti which can manifest direct its world of Light and Truth in which all is luminously based on the harmony and unity of the One, not disturbed by a veil of ignorance or any disguise.' However, let me say here straightaway that the mind by itself cannot understand the Supermind. This is not surprising: after all, the animal, with its vital instincts and sensations, cannot follow the workings of man's mind. The Supermind represents a level and realm of consciousness radically different from and superior to Mind, just as, in the evolutionary process, Mind is a higher range of consciousness than Life. Sri Aurobindo tells us that in its passage to the Supermind the mind must learn to fall into silence and then progressively open itself to the ranges of the Higher Consciousness.

As the disciples gradually came to know that Sri Aurobindo had retired into complete seclusion in order to concentrate on his task of hastening the Supramental Descent, their minds were beset with many questions. From 1930 onwards they were given the freedom to write letters to Sri Aurobindo (I shall come back to this subject later) and many put all sorts of questions regarding the Supermind. Some were born of mere curiosity and Sri Aurobindo discouraged these, although he never admonished the disciples. But where the questions genuinely sought an answer, Sri Aurobindo invariably sent a reply which varied in manner and content according to the disciple's capacity to understand. Sri Aurobindo was once asked in what way his Yoga was 'new' and whether it had been tried in earlier times. He advised the disciples not to lay stress on the 'newness' or novelty of the Integral Yoga but rather on its truth. However, to clarify the disciples' conceptions, Sri Aurobindo wrote:

‘It is new as compared with the old yogas:

‘1. Because it aims not at a departure out of world and life into Heaven or Nirvana, but at a change of life and existence, not as something subordinate or incidental, but as a distinct and central object. If there is a descent in other yogas, yet it is only an incident on the way or resulting from the ascent — the ascent is the real thing. Here the ascent is the first step, but it is a means for the descent. It is the descent of the new consciousness attained by the ascent that is the stamp and seal of the sadhana....

Because the object sought after is not an individual achievement of divine realisation for the sake of the individual, but something to be gained for the earth-consciousness here, a cosmic, not solely a supra-cosmic achievement. The thing to be gained also is the bringing in of a Power of Consciousness [the supramental] not yet organised or active directly in earth-nature, even in the spiritual life, but yet to be organised and made directly active.

Because a method has been preconized for achieving this purpose which is as total and integral as the aim set before it, viz. the total and integral change of the consciousness and nature, taking up old methods but only as a part action and present aid to others that are distinctive. I have not found this method (as a whole) or anything like it professed or realised in the old yogas. If I had, I should not have wasted my time in hewing out a road and in thirty years of search and inner creation when I could have hastened home safely to my goal in an easy canter over paths already blazed out, laid down, perfectly mapped, macadamised, made secure and public. Our yoga is not a retreading of old walks, but a spiritual adventure.'

This led to a further round of questions: if great men in the past did not have this vision, if even an Avatar like Krishna had not attempted to bring down the Supermind, was it not somewhat presumptuous of Sri Aurobindo to try and do so? These questions brought forth a magnificent reply: 'It is not for personal greatness that I am seeking to bring down the Supermind. I care nothing for greatness or littleness in the human sense. I am seeking to bring some principle of inner Truth, Light, Harmony, Peace into the earth-consciousness; I see it above and know what it is — I feel it ever gleaming down on my consciousness from above and I am seeking to make it possible for it to take up the whole being into its own native power, instead of the nature of man continuing to remain in half-light, half-darkness. I believe that the descent of this Truth opening the way to a development of divine consciousness here to be the final sense of the earth evolution. If greater men than myself have not had this vision and this idea before them, that is no reason why I should not follow my Truth-sense and Truth-vision. If human reason regards me as a fool for trying to do what Krishna did not try, I do not in the least care. There is no question of X or Y or anybody else in that. It is a question between the Divine and myself — whether it is the Divine Will or not, whether I am sent to bring that down or open the way for its descent or at least make it more possible or not. Let all men jeer at me if they will or all Hell fall upon me if it will for my presumption, — I go on till I conquer or perish. This is the spirit in which I seek the Supermind, no hunting for greatness for myself or others.' Still another question came up: How could he be so sure that the Supermind will in fact descend? Sri Aurobindo replied: 'If I believe in the probability and not only possibility, if I feel practically certain of the supramental Descent (I do not fix a date), it is because I have my grounds for the belief, not a faith in the air. I know that the supramental Descent is inevitable — I have faith in view of my experience that the time can be and should be now and not in a later age.' There was a further misconception that Sri Aurobindo had to remove. Some disciples thought that the descent of the Supermind would result in miraculous changes and at once usher in the Golden Age. Sri Aurobindo wrote: 'All that is absurd. The descent of the supramental means only that the Power will be there in the earth-consciousness as a living force just as the thinking mental and higher mental are already there.' In another letter he wrote: 'The whole of humanity cannot be changed at once. What has to be done is to bring the Higher Consciousness down into the earth-consciousness and establish it there as a constant realised force, just as mind and life have been established and embodied in Matter, so as to establish and embody the supramental Force.'

Yet such explanations and clarifications touch merely the surface of his sadhana of this period. Sri Aurobindo seldom wrote of the experiences he was going through and in any case these would have been largely unintelligible to the disciples. Only in a few letters did he indicate the immense difficulties which lay in the path of his Supramental Yoga. In one letter he wrote: 'My whole life has been a struggle with hard realities, from hardships, starvation in England and constant dangers and fierce difficulties to the far greater difficulties continually cropping up here in Pondicherry, external and internal. My life had been a battle from its early years and is still a battle: the fact that I wage it now from a room upstairs and by spiritual means as well as others that are external makes no difference to its character. But, of course, as we have not been shouting about these things, it is natural, I suppose, for others to think that I am living in an august, glamorous, lotus-eating dreamland where no hard facts of life or Nature present themselves. But what an illusion all the same!' There is another revealing letter in which he explains to a disciple why it was necessary for him and the Mother to confront and conquer these tremendous difficulties. He writes: As for the Mother and myself, we have had to try all ways, follow all methods, to surmount mountains of difficulties, a far heavier burden to bear than you or anybody else in the Ashram or outside, far more difficult conditions, battles to fight, wounds to endure, ways to cleave through impenetrable morass and desert and forest, hostile masses to conquer — a work such as, I am certain, none else had to do before us. For the Leader of the Way in a work like ours has not only to bring down and represent and embody the Divine, but to represent too the ascending element in humanity and to bear the burden of humanity to the full and experience, not in a mere play or Lila but in grim earnest, all the obstruction, difficulty, opposition, baffled and hampered and only slowly victorious labour which are possible on the Path. But it is not necessary nor tolerable that all that should be repeated over again to the full in the experience of others. It is because we have the complete experience that we can show a straighter and easier road to others — if they will only consent to take it.'

In one of his finest poems, 'A God's Labour' — written in 1935, Sri Aurobindo has given us a glimpse of the unprecedented tapasya he underwent for mankind. Here are a few stanzas from the poem:

He who would bring the heavens here
Must descend himself into clay
And the burden of earthly nature bear
And tread the dolorous way. ...

I have been digging deep and long
Mid a horror of filth and mire
A bed for the golden river's song,
A home for the deathless fire...

A voice cried, 'Go where none have gone
Dig deeper, deeper yet
Till thou reach the grim foundation stone
And knock at the keyless gate.'

I saw that a falsehood was planted deep
At the very root of things
Where the grey Sphinx guards God's riddle sleep
On the Dragon's outspread wings. ...

I have delved through the dumb Earth's dreadful heart
And heard her black mass' bell.
I have seen the source whence her agonies part
And the inner reason of hell. ...

A little more and the new life's doors
Shall be carved in silver light
With its aureate roof and mosaic floors
In a great world bare and bright.

I shall leave my dreams in their argent air,
For in a raiment of gold and blue
There shall move on the earth embodied and fair
The living truth of you.

I think I have said enough for you to realise that Sri Aurobindo did not go into seclusion for attaining his personal salvation in solitude, indifferent to the fate of the world. This misconception still persists but, as you have seen, it is far from the truth. His daily routine included reading newspapers and journals and he was always in touch with the currents of world-movements and their reflections in outward events. And, whenever called for, he applied his Yogic Force so as to change the drift of events or circumstances. He told us that he was constantly working on India's movement for freedom. And he once explained to me in a letter: '...behind events in the world there is always a mass of invisible forces at work unknown to the outward minds of men, and by Yoga, (by going inward and establishing a conscious connection with the cosmic Self and Force and forces) one can become conscious of these forces, intervene consciously in the play, to some extent at least determine things in the result of the play.'

Besides, there were two other ways in which he maintained contact with the outer world — through darshan and through his correspondence with the disciples. I shall dwell on them separately.

After 1926, on three days in the year, February 21 (the Mother's birthday), August 15 (Sri Aurobindo's birthday) and November 24 (the day of Siddhi), Sri Aurobindo and the Mother gave a joint darshan to the disciples and to some visitors who had obtained prior permission to come for the occasion. These three days were known as darshan days and I cannot describe the eagerness and expectancy with which we used to look forward to them. Each darshan was a special occasion for the sadhak , an exceptional moment of spiritual communion and communication with the Master and the Mother when he could offer himself anew to them and receive their blessings. For Sri Aurobindo and the Mother it was an occasion to look into the innermost being of each disciple to see his spiritual progress. Besides, Sri Aurobindo said that at the time of the darshans there were special descents of spiritual Force, Light, Peace, etc. which could help the disciples in their sadhana if they were receptive. Many indeed had unusual experiences and some would have the vision of divine manifestations emanating from Sri Aurobindo and the Mother. Also, for a visitor, a darshan could in a few moments of silent contact change the whole course of his life. Indeed the darshan was an unforgettable experience — ascharyavat, a thing of wonder. Clad in a fine dhoti, a chaddar across his body, Sri Aurobindo appeared august and vast, with an amiable smile playing on his lips; while the Mother sitting on his right in a beautiful sari, with her irresistible smile beckoned everyone to their Divine Presence. A marvellous vision!

I shall turn now to Sri Aurobindo's correspondence with his disciples: it is a very big subject and I can but touch on it. Between 1930 and 1938 a considerable part of Sri Aurobindo's time was given to this correspondence and sometimes he would spend eight or nine hours, mostly during the night, writing letters to the disciples. I had once sent him a typescript containing some criticism of our poetry by a visiting Englishman and requested him to give his comments on it. As his reply was delayed I wrote to him: 'What has happened to my typescript? Hibernating?' He wrote back in the humorous tone he often used with me: 'My dear sir, if you saw me nowadays with my nose to paper from afternoon to morning, deciphering, deciphering, writing, writing, writing, even the rocky heart of a disciple would be touched and you would not talk about typescripts and hibernation. I have given up (for the present at least) the attempt to minimise the cataract of correspondence; I accept my fate like Ramana Maharshi with the plague of Prasads and admirers, but at least don't add anguish to annihilation by talking about typescripts.'

There are many reasons for Sri Aurobindo giving so much of his time to these letters. Both he and the Mother encouraged the disciples to write freely and regularly about their difficulties and problems in sadhana and to raise other questions which vexed or perplexed them. Writing these letters helped the disciples to face their problems and to define their questions, and this also served to break down the barriers they sometimes created between themselves and the Guru. Through his replies Sri Aurobindo sent his Force and Light and the letters were the means or channels of his direct help to the disciples in their practice of yoga. In replying to letters on sadhana, Sri Aurobindo usually consulted the Mother as she was more directly in touch with the sadhaks; each reply was directed to the inner need of the sadhak and was in a language which never went beyond his capacity to understand. On other subjects Sri Aurobindo wrote according to the mental equipment of the disciple. To those with a strong intellectual bent of mind or where the questions raised were of general importance, Sri Aurobindo's replies were closely reasoned, often running into several pages, and provided illuminating answers which reflected his vast knowledge and integral vision. These letters find a place amongst his finest writings.

All this led to an immense volume of letters and, equally, to their immense variety. Of the thirty volumes of his writings which were published as the Sri Aurobindo Birth Centenary Library (SABCL), three entire volumes with a total of 1800 pages comprise his letters. And there are hundreds yet unpublished. The published letters have been grouped into four parts and each part into several sections. The first part alone contains the following sections from which you can get an idea of the range of subjects covered:

The Supramental Evolution
Integral Yoga and Other Paths
Religion, Morality, Idealism and Yoga
Planes and Parts of the Being
The Divine and the Hostile Powers
The Purpose of Avatarhood
Rebirth
Fate and Free-Will, Karma and Heredity, etc.

The second, third and fourth parts consist of letters concerned more directly with sadhana and there is no aspect of Integral Yoga which Sri Aurobindo has left uncovered. These letters form a perfect supplement to his major works such as The Life Divine and The Synthesis of Yoga. From another point of view, there can be no better introduction to Sri Aurobindo's writings than these letters. As you read them you will feel as though they were directly addressed to you and you will get the most clear answers to the many questions which inevitably crop up in our mind from time to time.

There are two other categories of letters to which I should make at least a passing reference. Occasionally in his letters Sri Aurobindo wrote about some incident in his own life or drew upon his personal experiences to explain or illustrate the subject matter of the letter. Sometimes he would also write to correct misstatements about himself which appeared in others' writings. These letters have been grouped together and appear in a separate volume of the SABCL. We cannot be sufficiently grateful for these occasional reminiscences and revelations, for they form the main source of the little knowledge that we have about his life and experiences. Then there are Sri Aurobindo's letters on Art, Literature and, in particular, on Poetry. Sri Aurobindo is the supreme Poet of Yoga, and he encouraged his disciples also to write poetry. The inspiration and help he provided and the atmosphere prevailing in those days in the Ashram brought out the latent poet in many disciples who had earlier neither the capacity for writing poems nor even an inclination towards it. I was myself one of those who came under the spell of the Muse, although I had never before written a line of poetry. J.A. Chadwick (Arjava) was another and I can give many more instances. At Cambridge Chadwick had been a brilliant scholar of mathematical philosophy and had little interest in poetry. At the Ashram he blossomed into a fine poet and wrote some exquisite poems which were published after his untimely death. Sri Aurobindo asked the disciples who wrote poetry to submit their compositions to him without hesitation and in letter after letter he would give his comments, unstinted in his praise where it was due, and yet pointing out the weaknesses and imperfections, sometimes even rewriting the whole poem. In this way he taught us prosody and the finer points of poetic diction and rhythm. It was an education in itself, but Sri Aurobindo taught us to write poetry as part of our sadhana, not for the sake of name or fame. Besides, in his letters he would occasionally make passing comments on poems and poets, both past and present. Even these casual observations are gems of literary criticism and always throw a new light on the subject.

Apart from the range and variety of subjects in these letters, their language has a special quality. From the excerpts I have already given, you may have noticed its luminous clarity (Chadwick once remarked that it had 'light without heat — like his eyes!') which goes straight to the mind and heart of the reader. And its perfect finish is all the more amazing when we consider the incredible speed with which Sri Aurobindo wrote. Sri Aurobindo never 'wrote down' to the disciples nor did he deliver sermons from a lofty height. The tone is invariably courteous and compassionate with hardly ever a harsh word even where the disciple is gravely at fault.

I shall end this subject on a personal note. I first came to the Ashram in 1930, left after a short stay and then returned in February 1933 to join the Ashram permanently. From around April 1933 to November 1938 I wrote to Sri Aurobindo almost daily. I used to put my questions in a notebook and Sri Aurobindo usually answered them in the margin — at times, the longer answers followed at the end. Gradually I came to use three notebooks: personal, medical and literary, for I had by then been given charge of the Ashram dispensary and had to attend to the inmates' ailments; also, with his encouragement, I had started writing poetry. This long Guru-shishya correspondence has now been published (excerpts had earlier appeared in separate books and in the SABCL) almost in its entirety and in chronological order. It consists of two volumes running into 1200 pages.

When I came to the Ashram I cared very little for God and had no faith. A medical man, materialist by education, I started the sadhana without having any idea about it, as Stendhal's Fabrice joined the army in utter ignorance of what war was like. If you read my correspondence with Sri Aurobindo you will see how he took in hand this raw and sceptical fellow and carried him along the path of sadhana, changed his entire way of thinking and opened his eyes to new realms of creative poetry and literature. But in this I was not alone, for Sri Aurobindo did the same for many other disciples, although I might have been a more difficult case! However, as our correspondence progressed, I was thrilled to notice that a new tone and manner was coming into his letters to me, a note of easy familiarity, of intimacy even, with shafts of humour lighting up the whole letter. This was certainly unusual and I did not fail to grasp my good fortune with both hands. I started writing to him much more freely and his replies continued in the same vein. It had a marvellous effect. I soon lost all my reservations, my fear and awe of him, and I wrote to him on every subject which occurred to me, putting all sorts of questions to him, and with a sense of freedom which I could not have imagined before. Friends would sometimes caution me against my boldness but Sri Aurobindo never objected nor did he rebuke me and his indulgence towards me was another way of showing his regard for individual liberty, his readiness to look at the whole life from the sublime to the trivial, and his incomparable tolerance and compassion. It is also an illustration of his way of dealing with each sadhak according to his nature and on the basis of his individual relationship with the Guru. In this way our correspondence flourished for a period of five and a half years. In the process it revealed a side of Sri Aurobindo's nature which dispels once for all the notion that he was always aloof and grave. I had written to him once: 'Your grandeur, your Himalayan austerity frightens us.' And his reply was: '0 rubbish! I am austere and grand, grim and stern! Every blasted thing that I never was! I groan in unAurobindian despair when I hear such things. What has happened to the commonsense of all you people? In order to reach the Overmind it is not at all necessary to take leave of this simple but useful quality.'

I have already given you quite a few examples of Sri Aurobindo's humour in his letters and two more instances must suffice for the present.

29-4-35

NIROD (N): I am plunged in a sea of dryness and am terribly thirsty for something. Along with it, waves of old desires. Any handy remedy?

SRI AUROBINDO: Eucharistic injection from above, purgative rejection below; liquid diet, psychic fruit juice, milk of the spirit.

30-4-35

N: Your prescription, Sir, is splendid, but the patient is too poor to pay. I feel I am the least fitted for the path. The God-seekers whose lives I have read reveal what a great thirst they had for the Divine!

SRI AUROBINDO: And what deserts they had to pass through without getting their thirst satisfied? The lives left out that?

N: Whatever you may say, Sir, the path of Yoga is absolutely dry and especially that of Integral Yoga!

SRI AUROBINDO: One has to pass through the desert sometimes — doesn't follow that the whole path is like that.

N: For this yoga, one must have the heart of a lion, the mind of a Sri Aurobindo and the vital of a Napoleon.

SRI AUROBINDO: Good Lord! Then I am off the list of the candidates — for I have neither the heart of a lion nor the vital of a Napoleon.

N: You may say that when the psychic comes to the front, the path becomes a Grand Trunk Road of Roses. But it may take years and years!

SRI AUROBINDO: Does not matter how long it takes — it crops up one day or another.

N: And who knows one may not simply pine away in the dry desert before that?

SRI AUROBINDO: No necessity to carry out any such disagreeable programme.

N: Have I the necessary requirements for the sadhana? The only thing I seem to have is a deep respect for you, which almost all people have today.

SRI AUROBINDO: It is good that, for accuracy's sake, you put in the 'almost'.

N: I made the unhappy discovery that it is surely from a financial pressure outside that I jumped for the Unknown and the Unknowable.

SRI AUROBINDO: It must have been a stupendous pressure to produce such a gigantic leap.

N: No escape now. Let me be roasted for somebody's toast. Pardon my vagaries.

SRI AUROBINDO: All this simply means that you have, metaphorically speaking, the hump. Trust in God and throw the hump off.

1-5-35

N: 'Trust in God'? Personal or Impersonal? Tell me instead, 'Trust in Me', that would be comforting, tangible and practical.

SRI AUROBINDO: All right. It comes to the same thing in the upshot.

5-9-36

N: Again I have a blessed boil inside the left nostril — painful. I feel feverish. A dose of Force, please!

SRI AUROBINDO: As the modernist poet says

O blessed blessed boil within the nostril,

How with pure pleasure dost thou make thy boss thrill! He sings of thee with sobbing trill and cross trill,

O blessed, blessed boil within the nostril.

I hope this stotra will propitiate the boil and make it disappear, satisfied.

6-9-36

N: What a powerfully effective 'stotra'! The boil couldn't but burst.... I couldn't make out one word. Is it 'make thy bows thrill'?

SRI AUROBINDO: I thought you'd boggle over it. 'Boss' man 'boss' = yourself as owner, proprietor, patron, capitalist of the boil.

As I read and read again my correspondence with him, my abiding feeling is one of infinite gratitude: gratitude for the endless trouble he took over me even in small things, for helping, guiding and sustaining me through all my difficulties and failings in sadhana, and for sharing his divine laughter with me.

We come now to an event with deep and occult implications, the full significance of which may not be easy to understand. The outward occurrence is clear enough, grim and completely un expected though it was. In the early hours of November 24, 1938, around 2 a.m. and only a few hours before the darshan was due to commence, Sri Aurobindo met with a serious accident in his room. He was on his way to the bathroom when he stumbled over a tiger's skin on the floor and fell, his right knee striking the head of the tiger. He tried to get up but failing to do so lay down quietly expecting that the Mother would come in soon. She was resting in her room when she received a strong vibration which made her feel that something had happened to Sri Aurobindo. She went quickly to his room and found him lying on the floor. Her intuition and her considerable knowledge of medical science made her suspect a fracture. She rang the emergency bell. A.B. Purani, who was on the ground floor below preparing hot water for Sri Aurobindo's bath, ran up to find the Mother at the head of the staircase. He was told of the accident and asked to summon a doctor. Fortunately, Dr. Manilal, a disciple and an experienced doctor, had come for the darshan from Gujarat and he was immediately available. He came at once, made a quick examination and said that he suspected a fracture. The Mother then asked Purani to get further assistance. When I came up with the other doctors, we saw that Dr. Manilal was still busy examining the leg. The Mother was sitting by Sri Aurobindo's side, fanning him gently. I could not believe what I saw: on the one hand Sri Aurobindo lying helplessly, on the other a deep divine sorrow on the Mother's face. But I soon regained my composure and helped the doctor in the examination. My medical eye could not help taking in at a glance Sri Aurobindo's entire body and appreciating the robust manly frame. His right knee was flexed, his face bore a perplexed smile as if he did not know what was the matter with him; the chest was bare, well-developed, and the snow-white dhoti now drawn up contrasted with the shining golden thighs. A sudden fugitive vision of the Golden Purusha of the Vedas!

During the medical examination Sri Aurobindo uttered very few words, and then only to answer the doctor's questions. Finally, Dr. Manilal pronounced that there was a fracture of the thigh bone. Sri Aurobindo simply heard the verdict and made no comment.

Meanwhile more than two hours had passed and the shattering news had flown all over the Ashram. The hopes and aspirations of hundreds of people were suddenly set at naught. The disciples gathered in the courtyard of the Ashram in great anxiety and then departed with a fervent prayer for Sri Aurobindo's speedy recovery. One of the visitors for the darshan was Miss Wilson, President Woodrow Wilson's daughter who had come all the way from America. She accepted Fate's decree with a calm submission. The Mother, out of compassion for the disappointed devotees, gave darshan to all in the evening, wiping away their gloom with the sunshine of her smile.

Since medical facilities at Pondicherry were inadequate, it was decided to call in Dr. Rao from the nearby town of Cuddalore in British India. He was the Superintendent of the Hospital there and known to us. In the meantime the injured leg was put in a cast of plaster as a first aid. Sri Aurobindo lay completely immobile on the bed. He disclosed to us later that it was a period of excruciating pain and said: The pains I had experienced so far were of an ordinary nature which I could transform into ananda. But this was intense. And since it came swiftly and suddenly, I could not change it into ananda. But when it settled down into a steady sensation I could.'

Dr. Rao arrived and after hearing the full account suggested that an orthopaedic surgeon from Madras, Dr. Narasimha Ayer, be called for consultation. With the Mother's approval Dr. Rao left for Madras to bring the specialist over.

It was evening by the time Dr. Rao returned with Dr. Ayer. They had also in the meantime arranged for a radiologist to attend and he too arrived after a few hours. The X-ray pictures revealed an impacted fracture of the right femur above the knee, two fragments firmly locked together. The specialist remarked that it was a very serious accident and had the fragments projected backwards, the consequences would have been disastrous. His advice was to avoid any drastic treatment, to put the limb in plaster and exert a steady traction by means of splints. The advice was accepted and the limb put into traction from the end of the bed. It would be necessary for Sri Aurobindo to stay in bed for a number of weeks and the specialist would pay a second visit later to consider the future course.

I should mention here that after the specialist had completed his investigations, the Mother put many intricate questions to him on the various possibilities, the prognosis, the lines of treatment, etc. and Dr. Ayer was lost in admiration of her knowledge of medical matters. Sri Aurobindo, on the other hand, listened carefully to all that was said but uttered not a single word. He was quite content to leave things entirely in the Mother's hands and accepted whatever she decided for him. I was much intrigued by this passive role. One who had been sending me sound medical advice about patients had not a word to say about himself on such a crucial matter. To me this has always been a living example of complete self-surrender.

The Mother now directed me to form a team of attendants who would be constantly available to serve Sri Aurobindo's needs. Champaklal, previously Sri Aurobindo's only personal attendant, and Purani, because of his long association with Sri Aurobindo, naturally came into the team along with Dr. Becharlal, an experienced Ashram doctor and Mulshankar, a young sadhak who assisted us at the dispensary. One more hand was still needed. The Mother was looking through the window shutters of Sri Aurobindo's room when she saw Dr. Satyendra standing in front of his Dental Clinic. 'Take Satyendra,' she told me and so the team was completed. Dr. Manilal postponed his departure for Gujarat and, being an experienced medical man with an equable temperament, he was a great help. Attendance by the entire team was required only at particular times, for instance when Sri Aurobindo's body needed some adjustment after a long stay in one position. Otherwise, we divided our duties, although ready to be summoned whenever needed. In this way circumstances broke down the barriers of Sri Aurobindo's seclusion and brought about a new pattern in his life. As for myself, I must admit that to serve him did come as a wonderful opportunity. Truly speaking, I had nourished in my heart a secret desire to see him near at hand, hear his voice, talk with him, and, if possible to serve him, but never could I have imagined the circumstances under which those prayers were to be granted nor could I have dreamt how close I would come to him in the next twelve years. I have written of this period in detail in my book Twelve Years with Sri Aurobindo, and I shall draw on that account from time to time as we proceed.

Let me now try to explain the inner significance of the accident on November 24, 1938. We later asked Sri Aurobindo about it and he said: 'The hostile forces had tried many times to prevent things like the darshan but I had succeeded in warding off all their attacks. At the time the accident to my leg occurred, I was more occupied with guarding the Mother and I forgot about myself. I didn't think the hostiles would attack me. That was my mistake.' Explaining what is meant by 'hostile forces' Sri Aurobindo writes: 'These hostile forces exist and have been known to yogic experience ever since the days of the Veda and Zoroaster in Asia (and the mysteries of Egypt and the Cabbala) and in Europe also from old times. These things, of course, cannot be felt or known so long as one lives in the ordinary mind and its ideas and perceptions...but once one begins to get the inner view of things, it is different. One begins to experience that all is an action of forces, forces of Prakriti, psychological as well as physical, which play upon our nature — and these are conscious forces or are supported by a consciousness or consciousnesses behind.' Elsewhere he says: 'The lower nature is ignorant and undivine, not in itself hostile to the Light and Truth. The hostile forces are anti-divine, not merely undivine; they make use of the lower nature, pervert it, fill it with distorted movements and by that means influence man and even try to enter and possess or at least entirely control him.' These are realities of the occult world and may not be very easy to understand but as Sri Aurobindo explains: 'The reality of the Hostiles and the nature of their role and trend of their endeavour cannot be doubted by any one who has had his inner vision unsealed and made their unpleasant acquaintance.'

We must remember that world conditions at the time were particularly favourable to the workings of these malignant forces. Discerning observers had seen and warned that from the early '30s the world was drifting towards a war of unprecendented magnitude. The phenomenal rise of Mussolini and Hitler, the inability of the democracies to contain the dictators, the Spanish Civil War, the enigmatic role of Russia which went through the throes of the brutal Stalinist purges, were all indications of a gathering storm. 1938, in particular, was a year of a mounting political crisis which came to a head when Hitler invaded Czechoslovakia in September. As a result of frantic Last-minute efforts by England and France, a compromise was reached with Hitler and the Munich Agreement signed on September 29, 1938. War was narrowly averted, but no one was sure how long peace would last.

There is a letter from the Mother to her son, Andre, written in October 1938, i.e. after the Munich Pact, which throws a revealing light on the real forces at work behind the scene. She wrote: 'Speaking of recent events, you ask me "whether it was a dangerous bluff" or whether we "narrowly escaped disaster". To assume both at the same time would be nearer to the truth. Hitler was certainly bluffing, if that is what you call shouting and making threats with the intention of intimidating those to whom one is talking and obtaining as much as one can. Tactics and diplomacy were used, but on the other hand, behind every human will there are forces at work whose origin is not human and which move consciously towards certain ends. The play of these forces is very complex and generally eludes the human consciousness; but for ease of explanation and understanding, they may be divided into two main opposing tendencies: those that work for the fulfilment of the Divine work upon earth, and those that are opposed to this fulfilment. The former have few conscious instruments at their disposal. It is true that in this matter quality compensates by far for quantity. As for the anti-divine forces they have only too many to choose from, and always they find wills which they enslave and individuals whom they turn into docile but nearly always unconscious puppets. Hitler is a choice instrument for these anti-divine forces which want violence, upheaval and war, for they know that these things retard and hamper the action of the divine forces. That is why disaster was very close even though no human government consciously wanted it. But at any cost there was to be no war and that is why war has been avoided — for the time being.'

Indeed the respite was short-lived, but it did give the democracies some much needed time to arm themselves desperately. On September 1,1939, Germany invaded Poland and the demoniac forces represented by Hitler unleashed the Second World War which was to change the face of the world.

With the war, Sri Aurobindo's Yoga entered a new phase and the Ashram too went through many changes. These we must now consider.