By The Way - Part III

Dada was saying, 'Our children are taken by bus for picnics. They love to go to Gingee and sing happily all the way in the bus. Then they climb the hills there. No matter how often they go to Gingee, they never tire of the place. That is how the songs "Gingee Hills" and "A Picnic Song" have been composed. Like with other songs, the tune came first and then came the lyrics.'

Here are the two songs:

GINGEE HILLS

Gingee hills are calling us,

For a picnic trip.

Bus, car, motor-cycle,

or take a jeep.

Climbing is a fun,

Take it on the run.

Up, up, up we go,

To see the rising sun.

We are free to-day,

Cheerful and gay.

Hop, hop, hop we go,

In our simple play.

Golden light around,

Fresh air abound,

High, high, high we go,

To sing our joy profound...

9.6.97

Pranab

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A PICNIC SONG

Picnic, Picnic,

Come quick, come quick,

Picnic we shall go;

I go, you go,

He goes, she goes,

All would like to go.

Come Ho ! Come Ho !

At five we start,

All dressed and smart,

Never we be late;

With helping hand,

Our merry band,

All in a happy state.

Come Ho ! Come Ho !

We climb the mountain,

Bathe in fountain,

See many wonder-things,

Many adventure,

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Fun and laughter,

Whatever fortune brings.

Come Ho ! Come Ho !

The food we eat,

All clean and neat,

Beautiful in taste;

Sweet and sour,

Packed with power,

Slowly with haste.

Come Ho ! Come Ho !

When day is done,

We end our fun,

Thanking Mother Divine;

Our spirit is high,

Next to the sky,

All is well and fine.

Come Ho ! Come Ho !

25.3.92 pranab

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TO ACTION

On to duty,

To our work,

May we put our Heart and Soul !

To build anew,

Our good, old world,

We must play our Heroic Role. (1)

There is nothing as

Big or small,

When we take up some work;

Our sincere efforts,

And perfect spirit,

Make of it a dazzling spark.(2)

When we work,

We give and give,

But never look for what we get;

Love for work,

That makes us act,

And in that way our life is set. (3)

That work is our

Body's prayer,

We must always keep in mind;

A work done well,

Is sure to bring

A supreme joy, we shall nowhere find.(4)

pranab

24.11.2000

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Dada remarked:

'After a long time on Praveen's birthday I went out for a drive. I thought to myself that I had not passed in front of the Ashram for a long time. After 19921 had not gone to that side so I thought that I would go past the Ashram.

I saw in front of the Ashram the same religious atmosphere that exists in front of a temple: a crowd of religious pilgrims, shoe-racks, etc. A totally religious atmosphere. The silent, spiritual atmosphere of former times was no longer there.'

Then Dada remained silent for a while after which he added:

'People cannot hold on to the spiritual, probably they do not want to. They want this very religious atmosphere; a fixed, routine, religious path is what they prefer. Perhaps man is not yet fully ready to understand and follow the spiritual path beyond the religious.'

*

'In 1945,' Dada said, 'I set up the physical culture groups with some very simple equipment, a set of parallel-bars and a pair of "dun-kath" (dipping bars) which are still there in the Playground.

It was our first demonstration in the Playground. The Mother had not started coming to the Playground then. So She got a description of it from me. One of the items in the demonstration was the "pyramid". The Mother could not quite understand this. We did not have the photo- graphic arrangements then as we do today. So I asked our artist Jayantilal-da to make some drawings of the "pyramid" demonstration. He made the drawings which I showed to the Mother. She was delighted. We still have those drawings of Jayantilal-da's.

The following year the Mother came to the Playground to watch the demonstration. She was very pleased with it and She told me:

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The newly constructed gymnasium of the physical Education Department

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"Buy whatever equipment you need."

So through Biren-da, I got from Madras a vaulting-box, a vaulting-horse, wall-pulley machines, a punching ball and punching-board, and so on. And with these I started organising physical culture in a more satisfactory manner.

From then on the Mother used to come to the Playground from time to time. She would also play table-tennis in 'Nanteuil'.

When the tennis court was ready in 1948 the Mother I started playing tennis everyday. After Her game She would come to the Playground. By the time She got back to the Ashram it would be ten or half-past ten. She would then have interviews with some people. This took a long time.

Then Sri Aurobindo was served dinner which was followed by a collective meditation.

After this the Mother and I would sit down to have dinner. By the time we finished it was half-past one or two. After dinner, at about .two o'clock the Mother would have some time to Herself. She taught me occultism then, how to go out of the body in a conscious way crossing various planes and types of consciousness of life. She would teach me about the experiences and activities in those planes of being. All this training took a lot of effort. There was, in the first place, the whole day's work and effort and on top of that all this work of concentration until so late at night. I used to get very tired and feel sleepy. After a few days I told the Mother:

"Mother, what will I do by learning all this? You are there. Whenever I need to know or do anything I will tell you. You do it for me. Wouldn't that be all right?"

The Mother replied:

"Yes, that too is possible. Whenever anything is needed to be done you let me know and I will do it."

After all this the Mother would sometimes give me a big glass of cold milk mixed with honey.

After I had finished drinking the milk the Mother accompanied me downstairs and bid me 'aurevoir' at the Rosary

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gate near Abhaysingh's room. Then She would return to Her room and I came back home.

Towards the later part the Mother could not come down. She would come till the staircase door to bid me farewell. And then later still She would bid me 'aurevoir' from Her room itself.

The Mother had got separate keys made for me, one for the door by the staircase near Nirod-da's room, one for the first- floor door in the corridor. She also got a key made for me of Her room so that I could go to Her whenever I needed to. I have kept those keys given to me by the Mother.

Returning home late at night I would exercise, have a bath, finish the office-work and go back to the Mother.

This was my daily programme. Sometimes, necessarily, there would be some changes in this programme. The Mother would Herself write down the programme of the day. I still have those slips of paper with the Mother's handwritten programme.

The interesting thing was that ordinarily the Mother would sit down for dinner at one or half-past one but when She had written down the programme for the day, She would strictly respect the schedule.

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Between 1948 and 1958, for ten years, I played tennis with the Mother every evening. We did not miss a single day.

Once my leg was hurt and I also had a little fever. With that fever and the limp I played tennis with the Mother. I did not even let Her know of it.

One day somehow the Mother came to know that I had fever and said:

"We won't play tennis for two days. Let your fever go. We'll take it up afterwards. Instead one day let me go to your house in the evening and make you some hot cocoa. I could go and we could chat a little in the evening."

We used to stay in the house where Mona's family stays today.

"Mother, please don't do that," I answered. "If you go to my house in the evening, prepare cocoa for me, sit and chat, then people will get jealous. Please don't do that, I beg you."

She listened and then, looking at me, said:

"You are a good fellow, you know."

So I played tennis with the Mother continuously for ten years. Then when the Mother left playing tennis I too stopped. My tennis rackets used to be kept with the Mother. One day the Mother wrote to me to ask:

"Is there anybody to whom you would like to give one of your old rackets? (I am keeping your first one 'en souvenir*)."

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I remember an incident of those days. Perhaps I have already told you about it. The Mother sent Amrita-da with a chit. The Mother had a feeling that some danger could befall me and She wanted to caution me with this note sent with Amrita-da. Amrita-da looked for me everywhere and finally handed me this note in the evening.'

(Mon aimé [my loved one], there is a very violent and dangerous attack upon you. For my sake and the sake of the work, be very careful and take great care of yourself.

My love never leaves you.)

*

A gentleman from Biren-da's club in Calcutta, where Dada used to practise body-building at one time, has come to meet him along with his wife. Both have now become quite old.

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They were friends from Dada's club-days in his youth and so he asked them to come and sit. He began chatting with the gentleman happily.

'When he had come to the Ashram for the first time and came to see me, I could not recognise him. He walked in and introduced himself:

"I am Probir."

"Probir? I'm sorry but I can't place you." I thought for a while. Then he told me his childhood-name. "I am Shuntko."

"Ah! you are Shuntko! Tell me that. Now I have recognised you."

Nobody can forget a name from childhood. One may not recognise the person by his proper name. The nickname reminds you at once of the person.

Our Gopal Bhattacharya from 'Insurance' had his house in Calcutta near our club. When Gopal came here and introduced himself I just could not recognise him. Then finally he said:

"The 'Dakatginni' of your area is my aunt."

At once I knew who he was.

They had a mango-tree that gave sweet-and-sour mangoes. Naturally with such a tree around kids are bound to hover about it. So in the afternoons we used to try and pluck man- goes from this tree by chucking stones. And Gopal Bhattacharya's aunt used to chase us away with a stick:

"Who is that under the mango-tree? Just you wait! I'll teach you a lesson!"

"Gosh! the 'Dakatginni' (the dacoit-woman) is coming. Let's run!"

And we would flee.

For this reason the name "Dakatginni" has stuck to my mind. Although Gopal Bhattacharya introduced himself I could not recognise him but then as soon as he mentioned "Dakatginni" being his aunt I knew who he was.'

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Tejbabu recounted an amusing story:

'A gentleman used to worry a lot about his son's future. The son was growing up. What will he be when he grows up? Will he turn out fine or will he be an utter failure? All these thoughts preoccupied him. What if he turns out to be a drunkard or a brigand? He might become avid for money and a miser. Of course he could also turn out to be a decent, pious man. Who can say? And he went on worrying in this way.

One day he thought:

"All right, let me test him. Let me see what his intentions are."

So one day, on a table, he placed a bottle of alcohol, a wad of hundred rupee notes, a pistol and a copy of the Bible. He placed them in the room in such a way that the boy would see them immediately on entering. And he hid himself to spy on the boy. From what he picked up he would know about the boy's future.

He saw the boy enter the room and look around to see if anyone was there. Then he sat down comfortably, picked up the bottle of alcohol and guzzled it up.

The gentleman was shocked and exclaimed:

"Oh God! Does this mean the boy will end up a drunkard?"

Then the boy took the wad of money and stashed it into one pocket. Then he took the pistol and put it in another pocket.

The gentleman now thought to himself:

"So the boy will end up a brigand and a swindler!"

After this he saw the boy pick up the Bible, place it under his arm and go out of the room.

The gentleman now exclaimed:

"Ah! now I see. My boy will neither be a drunkard nor a swindler and a brigand. He will be a pucca politician. He will booze and rob and mouth religious speeches!"'

Everyone enjoyed Tejbabu's story.

Dada then said:

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'I know the story of a lady. She was trying to reason with her son by telling him: "Son, do what you want but for god's sake don't become a political leader. If you do perfect work, people will hate you. If you do imperfect work, god will hate you. Either you will do perfect or imperfect work. In either case either people or god will hate you."

The lady's reasoning was irrefutable.

But can you tell me where the fallacy is in this logic?'

Everyone sat still. Then someone answered:

'I studied this at college many years ago. I don't remember very well. But I think there are a number of fallacies in this.

In logic, in a syllogism there are three statements: the major premise, the minor premise and the conclusion.

In the first statement there must be the major term, in the second, the minor term and both in the first and the second statements there will be twice the middle term or what in the science of logic is called the argument for deduction. This middle term has to be universally distributed at least once.

Here the lady's syllogism contains more than three verifiable statements. That the syllogism has not been well-constructed is the first fallacy, the fallacy of imperfect syllogism;

the second fallacy is the fallacy of four terms. And if we take the word 'hate' to be the middle term then it has been distributed limitedly, only twice. So this is the fallacy of undistributed middle. If one were to think a little more then there may be other fallacies too. The structure of logic is such that if you wish to construct a correct syllogism then all the errors will be exposed as with a metal-detector.'

*

Just then Ishit turned up. He has grown quite a lot.

'So Ishit? You've grown a lot, haven't you!'

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'Dada, tell me a story.'

Dada went through the names of various stories one after another:

'Have I told you this one? And that? What about this one? Oh, I've told you this one too. There's a story called "Something of the sort", have I recounted it to you?'

'No, Dada, you haven't.'

'Then listen.

Two boys stayed together in a room in a school-hostel. Their cots were next to each other.'

'What's a cot?'

'A cot is a bed. So the friends slept together in their respective beds. One night they were both asleep. Suddenly one of the boys noticed that his friend was caught as it were in a vigorous scuffle with someone. It seemed as if something were pressing his friend down onto the bed while he was furiously trying to rid himself of it. He was wriggling desperately.

At this point the boy got up to help his friend. He realised that it was something that could not be seen but which could be felt, a lot like a human being, long and plump but completely invisible. The two friends pounced on this disembo-died something's body as if in a wrestling bout. Then with a nylon rope they tied it really tight and strong. He could feel that this something was tightly tied with the strong nylon rope but it was impossible either to understand or to see what it was. But it was some sort of thing. It was very strong. The two friends began vigorously pulling this thing with the rope tied around it.

After some time this something lost all its energy and fell into a drowse. So then nervously and with great caution they began feeling its arms and mouth. It was still invisible and they were scared that this something might bite. They made some sort of a mould and took an imprint of this something's mouth. When they saw the imprint they were horrified. There was an imprint of a terrifying mouth.

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After tightening the rope they dragged this something out- side and dumped it into the pond. There was a huge splash in the water as it fell, as if a human body had sunk. And yet nothing could be seen.

This something has an existence, it can be held and felt, it can be grappled with but it cannot be seen. It is not a ghost though. How could a ghost be tied up with rope? How could you grapple or fight with a ghost? It would not have made that splashing sound either as it fell and sank into the water.

What is this something, then? Let me see if you can guess.'

'It could be something created out of fantasy,' the boy answered.

'Not exactly,' Dada answered. 'Such incidents happen truly. Go and ask Batti-da if you don't believe. He will tell you how a similar thing grabbed him one night.

One night Batti was sleeping in the open on the deck of the swimming pool in the Sports-ground. All of a sudden while he was sleeping something weighed down on him. It grappled vigorously with him. But when it was unable to wrestle with Batti's strong body that invisible thing disappeared.'

Rani-di then remarked:

'I once saw a ghost in the day-time with open eyes. It was something like a vision. One can see but one cannot touch or feel it.'

Rani-di then recounted her story.

'Once from Nabadwip I accompanied Reba, the assistant headmistress of my school, to Gaya, to perform the final rites for her departed mother. My elder brother had passed away some time earlier and so I thought I could perform the rites for him as well. That was the reason for my accompanying her.

We were staying at the Bharat Sevashram Sangh. They had arranged for a priest.

The priest was reciting the mantras while we were making the offerings to the manes by announcing the names of different people one by one.

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When my work was done I sat there and watched. Suddenly before my eyes a hazy face appeared. The face gradually became clearer and it was there just in front of me. I could see just the face and nothing else. I could not recognise the face but I noticed that it was looking at me very sorrowfully.

Suddenly the priest asked me:

"Ma, can you see something?"

"Yes, sir, I can see a face but I can't tell you whose it is," I replied.

"Look carefully and recollect, Ma. Perhaps someone you know has come to accept the water-offering from your hands so as to quench his soul's thirst. Just recollect and tell me who it could be," the priest said.

Then after a long time of reflection I suddenly recognised the face. It was Arati, one of my students. Quite some time back she had got married and had a couple of children. Then I heard that she was killed in a stove-burst accident in the kitchen. Yes, it was Arati's face indeed! Now it was clearly recognisable. So I told the priest about her. The priest began reciting mantras and I made some offerings for Arati.

Then the face vanished from in front of my eyes. I had a feeling of great contentment within me.

Upon my return I recounted this to Arati's parents. They observed:

"Yes, it is indeed true. Arati's death was after all accidental. The obsequies were performed but the offering to the mane at Gaya was not done. You have done a wonderful thing, my dear."

When I saw Arati's face and recognised her I told the priest. He told me at once that her death was accidental and that I should go to make the offerings to the manes at the shrine of the "dead spirits".

"But I won't be able to climb to the top of the mountain with my painful knee," I told him.

"You tell the priest the name and lineage of the person and make your offerings to him. The priest will make the offerings on your behalf. That should do," the priest suggested.'

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Everyone heard Rani-di's story in fascinated silence.

'Another time, Dada,' Rani-di continued, 'we went to Badrinath. Pandit Gaurinath Shastri was with us. We went and put up at a guest house past which the Alakananda flowed. Just across the bridge stood the Badrinarayan temple.

Shastri-ji said:

"Now that you have come, make water-offerings for all your known dear departed at the 'Uddhabshila'. I will recite the necessary mantras. You just make the water-offering by uttering the name of the person and his or her lineage."

So I started telling the names while Shastri-ji recited the mantras. And along with this I would offer water.

I uttered the name of my elder brother-in-law, recited the mantra and offered water.

Then while uttering the name of my second brother-in-law I mistakenly pronounced the name of my youngest one, Hariprasanna.

Shastri-ji recited the mantra and I offered water.

The very next instant I realised my mistake. My youngest brother-in-law was still living. How could I make water- offerings in his name?

I immediately told Shastri-ji:

"I've made a terrible mistake. My youngest brother-in-law is still alive. What have I done!"

Shastri-ji answered:

"Go at once to the Narayan-temple and tell Narayan every- thing. God is omniscient."

So I crossed the bridge to go to the Badrinarayan-temple and quietly tell him everything.

I was returning from the temple when I saw in the space above the bridge a corpse lying enveloped in white. After a while this corpse disappeared.

I came back and told Shastri-ji about this incident.

"Go back to the temple and tell this too to Narayan," Shastri-ji advised.

I obeyed.

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From then on I started feeling a little uneasy within me. I returned to Nabadwip.

We were all sitting and chatting in the evening together. I just hoped no one had any bad news to give, that everything was fine at the Ashram and my youngest brother-in-law was in good health.

As I was thinking these thoughts I asked if I had received any letters.

"No, Rani-di, nothing has arrived for you," they all answered.

Then suddenly Mandira exclaimed; "Look at that! I had completely forgotten. Luckily you asked. Your peon delivered a letter for you. Just wait, I'm getting it."

I quickly went through the letter. My youngest sister had written:

"On the last Vijaya Dashami your brother-in-law unexpectedly left his body."

I was quite stunned to note that it was on that very Vijaya Dashami day that I had mistakenly pronounced my youngest brother-in-law's name and offered water.

The fact that I had mistakenly utteied his name, was it I who made the mistake or did someone make me commit the mistake and get me to offer water? Truly the mind cannot explain everything.'

*

The following day Rani-di gave Dada news of some people she knew. She spoke about a girl who had been selected for doing a Master's in medicine in an All-India level competition but both her elder brothers wanted her to get married. They felt that after getting married she could take on the parents' responsibility.

Tell her not to get married,' Dada advised.

'What if there is disquiet in the family as a result?' Rani-di enquired.

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'Whatever happens in the family let her not marry under any circumstances,' Dada continued. 'Let her first complete her studies and stand on her feet. She can consider this option only then, if she wants to. But she should not do this now but remain strong.'

Just then a visitor dropped in with her son and a brother. She had offered Dada a present the day before.

Immediately on seeing them Dada said:

'Ah, come, come. The red bedcover you brought yesterday was very nice. How did you know that I liked red?'

'I don't know but I just felt like buying that particular bedcover. I didn't know you liked red. I'm happy to know that you like it,' the lady replied.

'Yes, I like red very much, Dada continued. The Mother knew this. That's why on my birthday She would always wear a red dress.'

*

Somebody came and bowed respectfully before Dada.

'How are you?' Dada enquired.

'I'm quite at home,' he said a little hesitantly. It was clear from his way of answering that he was not all that fine. But his mouth said the contrary.

'This is how it should be. Whatever be our condition, good or bad, we should feel "at home". If we are not capable of even this then of what use has our stay been here?'

Dada uttered 'at home' with such dignified tranquillity that a feeling of unwavering inner reliance on the Mother came through. A simple word uttered by Dada with that depth of voice acquires such a lot of feeling and meaning...

Another visitor turned up with his little daughter. He has been trying to get his daughter admitted into the Ashram school for a few years but to no avail.

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'If she gets admitted, it is the Mother's blessings. If she doesn't get admitted, then too know it to be the Mother's blessings,' Dada observed.

After a slight pause he continued:

'Life is Her blessings, death too is Her blessings; joy is Her blessings, sorrow too is Her blessings.'

*

Babua has come from Calcutta for just two days. After Jaya-di's passing the whole responsibility of running a big school and 'Lakshmi-House' has fallen on his shoulders. He is still young. The thirty-forty teachers of the school are all quite elderly, the age of his father, uncle or aunt. It is sometimes quite difficult to manage them.

On seeing him Dada invited him in:

'Come in, come in. You have lost a lot of weight!'

'Well, it's natural, Dada,' someone remarked. 'So much responsibility at this age must be exhausting him.'

'Have you heard the story of that king?' Dada enquired with a laugh. 'A king was going on his elephant through an important street of his city. On either side of the street his subjects stood respectfully.

The king was extremely lean and so a peasant on seeing him could not stop himself from laughing. The king turned to his minister and said:

"Go and see why that man is laughing on seeing me."

The minister did as instructed:

"Hey, why are you laughing like this?"

Taken aback and scared the peasant stuttered:

"Where, sire? I didn't laugh."

"You needn't be scared," the minister reassured him, "just tell me honestly why you laughed like that on seeing the king?"

So then the peasant answered haltingly out of fear:

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"I'm laughing at the king for this simple reason: he eats well and lives a comfortable life. He doesn't have to do back- breaking work like us. We barely manage two square meals a day. And yet, see, how our bodies look. Why is our dear king, then, after living such a comfortable life and enjoying such good food, so skinny?"

On hearing this answer the king called the peasant and told him:

"I'm making you king for seven days. You'll live like a king, that is like me."

So the poor fellow became king. He was very happy but he noticed that an extremely pointed huge sword hung over his head by a slender thread, what is called the sword of responsibility. If the slender thread broke then the sharp sword would fall on his head and pierce him straight through. Out of fear, terror and anxiety the poor fellow became skinnier than the king in less than a week.'

Everyone laughed on hearing Dada's story. So did Babua. Then he asked Dada:

'Tell me, Dada, how should I go about it? How should I conduct myself so that I can take everyone along with me?'

'Love and respect are the most effective controlling powers,' Dada answered. 'Love each and everyone, respect each and everyone. Tell everyone: "I am new and young, it is you who will teach and mould me. If I make any mistakes then help me to correct them, guide me." Then you will see how everyone collaborates with you. Your conduct should be firm and humble at the same time. Never indulge in being bossy. Then everything will be fine.'

Dada handed him a packet of the Mother's 'Blessings'.

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Pranab at work in the Physical Education Department office

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The reading Room adjoining the Physical Education Department office

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A visitor has come from Brazil. He is tall, healthy and well- built. You can see at once that he is into physical culture. He was greatly impressed by the ultra-modern equipment for physical culture.

'I have been to several countries,' he observed, 'but rarely have I seen such a fantastic gymnasium run so systematically. I liked the two "malkhambs" in particular. Exercising on the "malkhamb" is terrific. I've never seen this special equipment anywhere else.'

'You know, in ancient times, the "malkhamb" was the focus of physical exercise,' Dada explained. Then he started telling him about the different types of "malkhambs" and about the various people who excelled in this in different parts of the country.

Then Dada asked him to have a look at the Encyclopaedia of Indian Physical Culture. Gangaram-da took out a fat volume from the top shelf of a cupboard.

'Take the first volume out and show him. There are pictures and descriptions of the "malkhamb".'

The gentleman began leafing through the fat volume.

'Go towards the middle and open page 630.'

The gentleman turned to page 630 and was astonished. It was the page on 'malkhambs'!

'Turn a few more pages and you will see pictures of the experts.'

Dada seemed to know the entire, fat encyclopaedia inside out. He knew by heart what there was on which page even though he was not even looking at the encyclopaedia. The gentleman just had to open the page and read even as Dada went on commenting. He was stunned, wonder-struck. What an extraordinary power that he knew the whole encyclopaedia inside out. Quite difficult to believe unless one has seen it!

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