Bihari

Bihari-Da

I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

Emily Dickinson

Long I nurtured the thought of writing on Bihari-da. I had in mind just his silent and simple way of life, and a chance hearing of a comment made by the Mother and lastly a second-hand appreciation of his Bengali poems (some of them rendered into songs). I say ‘second-hand’ for I cannot read Bengali, so cannot comment on anyone’s writing in that language. But some Bengali friends assured me that they (poems) were of a very high order. What really nagged me was the Mother’s comment. She said: “He (Bihari) is one who has never troubled me!” It would seem, at first hearing, an innocent and a common enough remark. But its echo, and a wee bit deeper thinking should stun us by the mountain of meaning it carries. How many of us can claim this remark from Her? Moreover he never claimed it. She showered it on him. So, I thought that there must be some beauty of a butterfly wrapped in that cocoon of simplicity and silence. It was at first difficult to unwrap this cocoon. Not many knew much more about Bihari-da than I did, i.e. the outer wrapping. Even his close associates said: “Bihari-da to nijer shambandhe kichcchu boleyi ni.” (Bihari-da never talked about himself.) Only when I met Vishwajit, his friend, neighbour and “tormentor”, did I glean a little something. Then I came across a diary of his (Bihari-da’s). That was a great windfall — or so I thought.

I will try to do justice to this old friend — as far as I can — and leave the rest for each reader to find out for her/himself as to who Bihari-da was. How far had he gone? where is he now? With these questions in mind I will quote later some pages from his diary (without corrections even in the spellings or constructions).

Now to get on with the story of Bihari-da. I begin at the beginning. Beharilal Barua was born into, it would seem, a poorish family in Chittagong (Chottogram — now in Bangladesh) in a town called Mukutnait on 29th of March 1909. (It is interesting that on the same date a few years later the Mother met Sri Aurobindo for the first time.)

Bihari-da in his early youth was not very spiritually inclined nor did he know about Sri Aurobindo. He was somewhat mixed up with a revolutionary group of young people. He did not take a very active part. The group was led by Manmohan Dutta. They were some of those involved in the famous “Chittagong Armoury Raid”. (Biharida had already reached Pondy when the raid took place.) Manmohan Dutta’s brother was Bihari-da’s teacher. It was he who introduced Bihari-da to Sri Aurobindo. He would take Bihari-da home and show him some books, talk about Sri Aurobindo. The seeds were sown. To get to the study circle that had some books by Sri Aurobindo, Bihari-da had sometimes to foot it over two hills (wooded) to reach it and then walk back after dark.

Bihari-da was in touch with the Ashram from the age of 16. He wrote to Sri Aurobindo and received the replies through Barin-da (Sri Aurobindo’s brother). But soon enough he felt the urge to leave everything (friends, family, etc.) and come to Pondy. This was around the year 1929. The Mother had by now taken charge of the Ashram, Sri Aurobindo had retired (1926), and Nolini-da was the secretary. Bihari-da wrote to the Mother about his intention of leaving home and family and seeking permission to join the Ashram. He was told through Nolini-da that he should take the consent of his guardian and then only come here. Bihari-da on the pretext of going to Calcutta for a few days to seek a job (that’s what he told his parents) boarded a train straight for Pondicherry as destination and destiny. He did not even wait for the permission.

Bihari-da arrived on 31st of July 1929, early morning, at the Pondicherry Railway station — 15 days ahead of the August Darshan. There was none to receive him. He looked around and saw a strange-looking contraption on 4 wheels. He discovered it was a “pousse-pousse” (French for “push-push”), a local version of a rickshaw. It was shaped more or less like a rickshaw — a bit more commodious. The two front wheels were smaller than the two behind. The axle of the front two swivelled by means of a long curved handle held by the passenger. The motive force was a man behind the body of the vehicle, who just leaned his weight against a thick bar (often a beautiful brass one). The man could take it easy, close his eyes and leave to the passenger the bother of manoeuvring and safely reaching the address. These, alas, are things of the past. (There were hardly any faster vehicles to be met with — even bicycles were a rarity. Only bullock carts were a threat, I suppose). In the late 40s there were still 4 or 5 pousse-pousses around, mostly owned by the well-to-do. Then came the “front-wheel-drive” version (man as motive force) which pushed out of existence the “push-push”, that was itself pushed out by the cycle-rickshaw now in turn threatened by the “auto-rickshaw”. The craze for speed, a fast life-style, advancing technology seem to be the causes of all these extinctions. Now to come back to Bihari-da. He talked to the pousse-pousse-walla — who talked to Bihari-da who understood nothing, but sat in the vehicle and took the “Danda” (as he recounted) into his hand. The vehicle moved forward and Bihari-da was on his way. I don’t know who directed the carriage to its destination — Ashram — but Bihari-da did arrive.

Bihari-da met Jotin-da — another native of Chittagong — who took him in, gave him a meal and took him to Barin-da. Jotin-da was then (and till his last days) incharge of the Garden Service. Barin-da arranged for Bihari-da to meet the Mother.

What did Bihari-da feel or experience when he saw the Mother for the first time? When asked, he was silent for a while, seemed to hesitate. Then he said that his mind was transported very high, very deep. His eyes were flooded by Her beauty — a Beauty he never imagined existed in this world. He had a similar experience when he met Sri Aurobindo (15th August 1929). I say “met” for, those fortunate 50-60 sadhaks were allowed, in those early days, to approach Him, to touch His feet. He would bless them too, placing His hand on the head. They could drown themselves in the flood of love and grace for an eternity of 3-4 minutes! Bhagirath must have done so in the days of yore when Ganga flowed down the matted locks of Shiva.

Bihari-da was given work in the garden under Jotin-da. He was later transferred to the kitchen under Dyuman-bhai. The kitchen was situated where the “Cold Room” is now (near Prosperity). The food was cooked by a maid. Bihari-da put the food into dishes and brought them to the “Dining Room” which was a tiled-roof shanty. It stood where the Samadhi is now. The sadhaks then ate here. The Mother moved about, unaccompanied, seeing to this or that other work or to see one of the sadhaks. She walked amongst them even when the Dining Room was shifted to its present premises.

I first saw Bihari-da, as did most others, in the Dining Room, getting ready to wash bananas on the verandah (eastern side of the front garden). Bihari-da looked very much like a character out of an old Bengali film, a common working villager. He was of an average height, well built, somewhat of a dark complexion. The features were neatly fashioned — rather a handsome man I would opine. He sported a well-trimmed thick moustache and never a bristly chin. The hair was worn in a neat-cut-bob, always well-oiled and combed down — remarkable was its glossy blackness. The grey hairs, — a few grew so much later — I saw only in a photograph. More remarkable were the eyes — soft and kind, they lent a glow to his face. They seemed to gaze far away, or was it at a deep calm within him! — it is hard to say. Maybe it is all the same — looking far away or deep within. The man never seemed to change! — his body, face, his moods, his age, and, come to think of it, even his dress. The route to and from his work and the work itself were as unchanging as he. He could be seen with unfailing regularity walking down to the Dining Room every morning at 3.45 a.m. He was the first to arrive, come rain come storm. He was for a time Ravindraji’s boss — if Bihari-da could ever be called a “boss” — and reproached him (Ravindraji) for coming only 15 minutes before the appointed time! His work was ‘for ever’ washing bananas and for a while serving at the counter. His dress was for ever a white dhoti worn high (like Bula-da — a working type) topped by an Albert-da haute-couture sleeved banian. The only change was for working purposes — i.e. a pair of oversized dark blue drawers pulled over the dhoti during banana cleaning, a blue beret-like cap and apron while serving. These were necessary — especially the cap — which I believe was a compulsory item for all cooks, bakers and servers — more compulsory for those with long hair. I believe too that this simple rule was enforced by the Mother for purely hygienic reasons. It would seem no such enforcement or Force exists nowadays — or has taken a back seat (I hope fickle fashion has not taken the front seat). Washing bananas was no mean or easy job. He did it for 50 or more years. Nothing deterred him — cold, rain, even illness (we may note that nothing deterred the consumers). The work was demanding. In the mid 70s Mahesh Sharma joined him as a helper. He considered it a great privilege and honour. Also it was for him an invaluable introduction to and a salubrious lesson for life here. The work meant simply keeping ready on any given day, 15,000 bananas for a rotation of 3 days, i.e. for a consumption of 5,000/day! The bananas had to be cut from the bunches, cleaned, counted and arranged in trays. The trays had to be lifted on to shelves. They would then be “fired” — a smoky fire was lit in the closed room, and the warm smoke helped the fruit to ripen. Bihari-da was the boss — with a difference. He believed that the Mother did appoint an “in-charge” but not a “superior”. He (in-charge) had his work chalked out — to organise, arrange the day’s work and report to Her the progress, and any matter pertaining to the work. He also said that the Mother had given a great “freedom” to the workers and She never wanted them to feel they were walking a tight-rope. Bihari-da never asked his helpers about their absence (or sense or even nonsense). If none turned up he carried on alone. Mahesh, all admiration for him, avows, “We of half his years, were no match for him in endurance or output and performance. His body was like a spring. He was so palpably dedicated, conscious and so calm — he commanded our respect.” He added with a rueful smile that lifted his moustache an inch or so: “Gone Bihari-da, so gone are good bananas!” As he warmed up to the subject he said with feeling and conviction: “You name a good quality and Bihari-da had it!”

Bihari-da had a very puzzling bit of routine that he enacted every evening. He never joined our Physical Education, but at about 7.15 p.m. he would come to the Playground and hunker down, leaning his back against a pillar of the old verandah (it does not exist any more. It was demolished to make place for our New Gym.). He talked to no one — just kept looking in front. When the Group H dispersed after the concentration, he would get up and walk away. He didn’t seem to be interested in the “Old Men’s Marching”. So, what brought him there? I can only guess, at this distant date (for I never asked him then), that he saw something that I and most others around didn’t or couldn’t. Or, at least he was filled with a “feeling”. I would take a short diversion in this connection. Sisir-da, our late Headmaster, did the same. He too came and spent the H-Group “Marching time” in the Playground. Like Bihari-da he too was not very interested in physical activities. Unlike Bihari-da he had old comrades with whom he could, and did, indulge in some conversation. I asked why he came. He replied “Nolinibabu bolechhen ashte.” (Nolini-babu has told me to come.) That was reason enough for him, and now, for me too. This may help explain Bihari-da’s puzzling behaviour.

Let us now approach Vishwajit for what he has to say about Bihari-da. They were great friends though of different eras — but sages don’t worry about ages. Vishwajit’s opening remark was “Oh! Bihari-da ek bodo jogi chhilo, ar pondito chhilo.” (Bihari-da was a great yogi and also a pundit). Many knew that Bihari-da was a poet. He had written hundreds of poems in Bengali. But I was surprised to learn that he had translated Sri Aurobindo’s poem ‘Jivanmukta’ into Bengali way back in 1934! (see pp. 137-39) Sri Aurobindo’s poem was published in 1934 in a book titled Six Poems of Sri Aurobindo. He also knew Sanskrit and picked up some Urdu from his friend Prashanto.

Vishwajit tried his level best to ruffle Bihari-da’s calm or rouse his ire — all to no avail — except once when he fed him a well cooked dish of pork, camouflaged with plenty of masala. Both Bihari-da and his ever-close friend Prashanto (a Muslim by birth — decreed never to touch pork) ate it. The feast over, when the real nature of the dish was revealed, Bihari-da was a bit upset, but not so Prashanto, who took it in his stride or more appropriately into his stomach. He even teased Bihari-da, pouring salt into the fresh wound.

Bihari-da hardly ever fell ill, had no use for medicines. If he did feel out of sorts, he would fast himself back to health and/or consciously work on the illness to get rid of it. (Only once did I know him to submit himself to a doctor’s attention — he was operated on for a cataract at JIPMER.) Maybe his regular habits, simple living, and more importantly, a clean, sound mind uncluttered by negative thoughts, all helped keep him in good health. He does mention in his diary about a chest pain. He did not attribute it to a heart condition, but to some subtler or higher reasons.

Bihari-da’s life, it would seem to all appearances, was most ordinary and simple — no ups and downs, no bright and colourful happy times alternating with sad dreary days. One might even conclude that it was quite uninteresting or, at best, the most interesting facet to be the very simplicity and drabness and commonness. But, behind this façade or under this surface ran a much more meaningful adventurous, even extraordinary current of life. His mind and spirit seemed to be ever trying, experimenting and moving on untrodden ways to discover greater possibilities in this life of yoga. It is difficult for me without much such experience, to analyse, comment or criticise and judge what Bihari-da achieved or attained. Normally we believe only what we want to. Each one judges according to one’s own capacity (of mind). I dare suggest that each one’s judgement of others could be his/her yardstick to measure oneself. So — I choose rather to quote from Bihari-da’s diary and let each reader’s mind take over. He himself never spoke to others about these, his inner deeper thoughts. He probably kept these notes and records for his own benefit or use.

Bihari-da’s Diary

(1) Day by day the working of the Divine Shakti in this bodytransformation is becoming clear. Actually it is a journey through an untrodden path, most dangerous and unaccountable, most uncertain and bewildering, but a journey towards a fulfilment of Mother Nature.

First I was bewildered (maybe in 1942) when I was going through physical agony (stomach and heart pain) but could not find the cause of the ailment. I was sure it was the action of the Divine Shakti in her working of transformation of the cells of the body. It was the first sign of the awakening of the cells.

(2) When one comes in contact with the Divine Power, one at once can start thinking that he is an Avatar or Messiah. The human vital rushes up to capture the Divine by his vital, mental and physical power instead of giving oneself completely to that Divine Power — he wants to possess the Divine with his Asuric ego. This is the case of many seekers who have fallen from the Divine path. They become the instrument of the dark power that dominates the world.

They might have good wishes for the world, for the suffering of humanity, but they do not take the way of the Divine and bring the world to Truth.

They preach the Divine but in their admixture of falsehood and truth, they make the Divine in their own image.

(3) A new society where every individual is given fullest freedom of action and expression is possible only when every unit of the society has transcended the present rules and ways and means of the society that have held together all the individuals. The laws of morality and compulsory rules will have no place in that society. The individual and collective life of that new society will be based on a totally transformed outlook. The spirit that is one and all will manifest itself outwardly and inwardly — even the feeling, seeing, dealing, etc. that every human being possesses will be changed completely. A society free from all imperfection mental, vital and physical in which all human beings will embody the Truth of the One, individual and universal and transcendental.

(4) Hostile Maya is difficult to surmount. Careful not to be dazzled by anything that imitates the Divine. Our surrender must be onepointed to the inner guide and the Divine Mother.

I must not be disturbed by the victory of the hostile but wait for the Divine Mother’s intervention. I must be empowered by Her Force, Knowledge and Love and surrender completely to Her. I must remember that the work bestowed upon me is not mine but Hers and nothing like attachment or personal desire for greatness can touch my being. I have offered myself to Her and I must remain true and nothing must come between me and Her.

(5) The Maya of the ego is difficult to surmount. It appears with new dazzles when you think you are killing or surpassing it. Many yogis fell and many seekers broke their journey midway.

It is the Divine alone who can lead us without committing mistakes. So we must surrender ourselves unreservedly to Him alone and reject all desire and ego. A little sincerity in you is enough in the beginning and He will take advantage of it and lead you correctly.

(6) In my life I have received the severest attack not from any expected sources, not from anyone from whom it is natural but from very unexpected sources on which I relied entirely, in whom I had perfect faith.

But at the same time the victory over these formidable sources was also the greatest and most complete. No doubt I suffered untold suffering but that suffering was nothing in comparison with the victory and conquest.

I know it was my test whether I would submit to the falsehood or fight for the truth. The attack became the cause of an ultimate victory that surpassed the suffering. The suffering was momentary and the victory was eternal.

(7) Those who have never seen the sun, they want to show the sun by the lamplight. They are followers of falsehood. Those who have not seen the Truth, they want to show the Truth by outward human speech; that is a caricature of Truth. Truth is self-evident and even a flash from it can change a human being because a momentary flash of the Sun of Truth can make a man conscious of a superior light.

To be a guru, to do yogic sadhana for power and position, to show to the world what one really is not, what one should be in spiritual Truth, is dangerous for the seeker, and these things can never be profitable to those with whom he has relations. By one’s vital one manifests only the vital world and not the true spirituality, — because it contaminates the pure fire of the soul that wants nothing but the Divine.

(8) In the noisy world those who can raise their voice over others’ are heard, and they are thought to be the greater. In this way the world is becoming more and more noisy.

But is there none whose voice is eternally superior to any voice of man and world?

It is the supreme Truth, the Divine, who speaks through silence and sinks all other noise in the infinite.

Man of ordinary mind thinks he can be great by making noise and makes noise in the name of the Truth, the Divine; but when he has found the Truth Divine he shrinks from the ordinary way of thinking and no more makes noise. He speaks through silence and the Truth becomes revealed once more to mankind, and humanity turns away from the noise of Falsehood.

(9) In India there was the conception of four distinct forms of individuality — Brahmin, Kshatriya, Vaisya and Sudra. Each man has got one or more of these inner rather than outer personalities. These forms consist of three Gunas, divided according to the Gunas...

In the West, people are considered to possess all these Gunas living together and each individuality is entitled to develop all these personalities together; for that there is ample opportunity. But in actuality these working Gunas in the individual create chaos and people do not find any inner contact in their external life and workings. The result is that they remain always externalised, having nothing to do with any inner consciousness.

Interesting it is that even in the most externalised social organisation of the West there is a class system. The fourfold class system (the four forms of the Indian system) has also roots in the society of the West. There are Brahmins who are thinkers, scientists and technologists; there are Kshatriyas who are engaged in the military sphere; there are Vaisyas who are traders and industrialists, and there are Sudras who are engaged in all these spheres and help the growth of the four professions by their labour. But it is to be noted that, although people choose the professions of the four, they hardly represent the inner dharma, or..., or soul-desire. Many choose one or other profession because they have to make their livelihood out of the work they were forced to do by necessity.

(10) In the future there will be no suppression of the individual as I have been suppressed by circumstances. I was never a free man outwardly — because for me the obstacles were insurmountable. I had nothing in the world to be able to stand on my own feet, free from others’ domination. Family, country, politics, society, pecuniary conditions, the community, religion and all the modes of life were against me. There was moreover the second World War.

Because of the Mother I could grow in my quest for Truth. Her general protection and Her taking of me into Her family of many children was solely responsible for my spiritual progress. Otherwise it would have been impossible.

She has passed away but She has given us a world where we can stand freely, spiritually and psychically. Although India is not ready as yet, it is a certainty that spiritual India is emerging and true personalities are coming forward with Divine Truth. None will be able to hinder the work that is destined.

(11) Ultimately I found the truth that to argue with the mind, to discuss a matter with it and try to teach others by mental reasoning is not the right way, — because the mind cannot bring out the underlying spiritual idea.

I have noted many times while arguing with friends or others, that either they do not understand my point or I do not understand their stand. While I drive my point home even in favour of their idea, they do not understand and think I oppose them.

Unless two minds are on the same level, this sort of disharmony is bound to take place.

The only remedy is that we have to go beyond mental reasoning; through silence of the Spirit we can really help others.

(12) Two kinds of Beauty — Masculine and Feminine. Shiva represents the Masculine and Krishna represents the Feminine.

One Beauty manifesting in two forms.

Silent and grandiose, static and wide, a figure with the adornment of Nature’s ornament, having no artificiality and softness, Shiva represents the Eternal Purusha.

Attractive, changing, dynamic, mild, bewildering in behaviour and adorned with rare riches and artistic garments, Krishna represents the feminine side of the Eternal Beauty.

(13) Wings of a bird cover the whole world. They spread and spread till they will cover the whole Universe. They will unify, they will bring down the oneness of the One into the ignorance of the Inconscient.

First a few will know it, then they will come together — they are the elite of the Future.

Others will follow.

They will follow through the vicissitudes of Nature’s action, through war and peace, love and hatred, ups and downs....

With the above quotes from Bihari-da’s diary, and having read a few more, I tried to review my acquaintance with him. Was I any closer or wiser? To be honest I was neither. For, to tread where he did, one felt a bit “out-of-bounds” and, at the same time, maybe a feeling of “distance” from the Bihari-da we knew gnawed at me somewhere within. I rather retrace my steps for now, to cherish that Bihari-da we met in the Dining Room or the one sneaking away to eat icecream with Prashanto, leaving to the Future or some others to read the “Other” Bihari-da.

Is the sky high? “No,” say some; “Yes,” assert others. The “nays” look eye-level, straight ahead and around. The “ayes” look up above. Both, I suppose, are right on their own levels of perception.

We know that Bihari-da hardly ever spoke about himself yet some pressed him and managed to wheedle out some interesting telling comments and even strong views of his.

You are one of the early comers here. When you came here what did you expect from this place?

(Quite strongly voiced) Nothing, Nothing. Once I decided to come and give myself to this life — that was all — take whatever the Guru gave — no demand of any kind. If he gives a slap take it with joy. It is not ours to decide — just go on doing what you have to. If you fail, it does not matter. If you succeed, it is alright. Those who come expecting something are failures — one and all.

What difference do you find between now after the passing away of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo and before?

I think, when an Avatar takes birth on earth, He can never leave it. Do you think Sri Krishna is gone and finished with?

Sri Aurobindo is still here, as the Mother has said. Now it is for the individual to find and feel. If you try with sincerity Their help is always there. You are young, you have energy. You have to be heroes, doing heroic work. It is needed.

Bihari-da then recounted a story — a true one — in a lighter vein (depending on how one looks at it). In the olden days, when the Ashram had just a few sadhaks, no departments, no playground, no children etc., etc., it was naturally a very silent place, with no movement or change. Some people came from outside for a visit (probably from Bengal). They went back and friends there asked them: “How was that place — the Pondicherry Ashram?” They replied — “Mrito, Mrito!” (Dead, Dead!)

But when bluntly asked about what experience(s) he had — especially when he saw Sri Aurobindo — he simply exclaimed in ecstasy: “Ah, apurbo; — ki sného — oh — bola jayena — express kora ashambhab!” (Ah — wonderful — what love, affection — beyond expression and speech!) ... Then?... there was nothing more coming. When gently needled for more, he as gently but with finality said “Aar ki, eyi, ar bola jayena. Bola uchit na. Bollé-o ki bujhbé — Bhul bujhté-o paro.” (What more, that’s all — can’t say any more and shouldn’t say any more. Even if I say, what will you understand? Maybe you will wrongly understand!)

Bihari-da was known not to go often for “Darshan”. Someone reported the matter to the Mother. She replied: “Bihari is always with me, I am always with him.”

When someone broached the subject of the time when many could not accept the Mother, when Sri Aurobindo retired in 1926, Bihari-da countered with a query: “Who has known the Mother? Knowing Her — not as a machine or some nice person who gives us things — She is beyond all knowing. ‘Knowing’ is to become the Mother!”

Bihari-da used to say that maybe he could quite easily live a hundred years, meaning that his body’s sadhana would enable it to live that long doing its work. But at a certain period of his life, when he was about 80 years old, he said to Vishwajit: “Na — ar eyi shorir niyé hobéna!” (No, it is not possible to continue with this body.) When asked why, he did not clarify or elaborate — he just said: “Not this time, next time.”

Vishwajit asked Bihari-da just before leaving for Calcutta: “O Bihari, I am leaving, I hope you won’t leave in my absence.” Biharida replied: “No no, not yet. You can go without that worry.” Vishwajit went and returned, Bihari-da was there, no problems. Hale and hearty as usual. He was about 84 now. A few days went by — all normal. One evening Vishwajit, as was his habit, was going out to the Ashram. Bihari-da called out: “Vishwajit, where are you going—how long will you be gone?” Vishwajit told him he wouldn’t be long, just a short visit and back. He went and returned, and there was Mohini-da (he was Tinkori-da’s student in Bengal, looked after him till his death and was now looking after Bihari-da) very troubled, calling Vishwajit — “Shigri ésho. Bihari-dar kichhu hoyéchhé” (Come quick — something is wrong with Bihari-da). Vishwajit entered Bihari-da’s room. Bihari-da was lying quietly on the floor — no moaning, shaking or tossing about — just lying there. Vishwajit and Mohini-da managed to lift him onto the cot and sent for the doctor (Dr. Dutta). Bihari-da in the meanwhile opened his eyes, gave Vishwajit a beatific smile and again closed his eyes. The doctor came, but Bihari-da was already beyond the doctor’s or anyone’s reach or help. It would seem as if he had just willed himself to go, to prepare himself for the next coming. For us it may be more true to say “he put us to sleep and quietly shut the door and slipped away!” This was on the 5th of April 1993.

Years before he left he had told Vishwajit that he would leave no bondages with this world when he left for the next. He said this when Vishwajit quipped with him saying: “Bihari, whatever you do, when you die, don’t haunt this place!” Bihari-da replied: “Na, ami shob mukti korieyi jabo.” (No, I will liberate [myself] from all this and then go.) Maybe it is as a sequel to this pronouncement that Vishwajit found nothing in Bihari-da’s room as regards correspondence with the Mother or Sri Aurobindo, or even with others. So it is a lucky stroke, and an unusual lapse in Bihari-da’s “bond-breaking” job, that I got a glimpse of his diary.

Bihari-da was a man who never strove for an identity. Except for some of our vague and unimportant memories — he is lost to us. But is he really lost? Whatever the case — ours is not to bemoan his departure. Rather “Triumph-March” him into the realms he so much dreamt of and prepared himself for — the Realms of his Divine Mother. He is lost — if ‘lost’ is the mingling of a drop with the ocean — a merging of one with THE ONE who is ALL.

Jivanmukta

There is a silence greater than any known
To earth’s dumb spirit, motionless in the soul
    That has become Eternity’s foothold,
         Touched by the infinitudes for ever.

A Splendour is here, refused to the earthward sight,
That floods some deep flame-covered all-seeing eye;
    Revealed it wakens when God’s stillness
         Heaven the ocean of moveless Nature.

A Power descends no Fate can perturb or vanquish,
Calmer than mountains, wider than marching waters,
    A single might of luminous quiet
         Tirelessly bearing the worlds and ages.

A bliss surrounds with ecstasy everlasting,
An absolute high-seated immortal rapture
    Possesses, sealing love to oneness
         In the grasp of the All-beautiful, All-beloved.

He who from Time’s dull motion escapes and thrills
Rapt thoughtless, wordless into the Eternal’s breast,
    Unrolls the form and sign of being,
         Seated above in the omniscient Silence.

Although consenting here to a mortal body,
He is the Undying; limit and bond he knows not;
    For him the aeons are a playground,
         Life and its deeds are his splendid shadow.

Only to bring God’s forces to waiting Nature,
To help with wide-winged Peace her tormented labour
    And heal with joy her ancient sorrow,
         Casting down light on the inconscient darkness,

He acts and lives. Vain things are mind’s smaller motives
To one whose soul enjoys for its high possession
    Infinity and the sempiternal
         All is his guide and beloved and refuge.

Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems: Jivanmukta

13-4-1934
Sri Aurobindo

জীবন-মুক্ত

আছে এক নীরবতা — ধরণীর মূক এ চেতনা
নাহি পায় তল তার — অবিকস্প বিরাজে সতত
সে-আত্মার মর্ম্মকোষে, শাশ্বতের পুণ্য পাদসীঠ
হয়েছে যে, লভি নিত্য অনন্তের অনন্ত পরশ।

হেথা আছে দিব্যজ্যোতিঃ — মর্ত্তদিঠি নাহি হেরে তারে,
প্লাবিছে সে গূঢ় কোন অর্চ্চিঘেরা সর্ব্বর্দ্শী আঁখি
জাগি উঠে উদ্ভাসিয়া, ভাগবত সমাহিতি যবে
ছেয়ে রহে নভসম স্পন্দহীন প্রকৃতি সাগর।

নেমে আসে মহাশক্তি, জিনিতে কি আলোড়িতে তারে
অক্ষম নিয়তি, গিরি হতে স্থির, উদার — উদ্বেল
অম্বুরাশি হতে, দীপ্ত প্রশান্তির অখণ্ড বিক্রম,
শ্রান্তিহীন আছে ধরি লোকসঙেঘ, যুণযুগান্তরে |

আছে ভূমানন্দ ঘিরি চারিদিক অফুরন্ত সুখে
ঊর্ধ্বাসীন মৃত্যুহীন তীব্র হর্ষ করে আত্মসাৎ,
গ্রথে বজ্রপ্রেমবন্ধ, অভিন্ন অচ্ছেদ্য একাকার,
বিশ্ববল্লভের সর্ব্বসুন্দরের দুর্ব্বার আশ্লেষে।

কালের মন্থর গতি উত্তরিয়া পুলকে শিহরে
অনন্তের বক্ষলীন সেই জন নিশ্চিন্ত নিবর্বাক —
নির্ন্মুক্ত করিয়া চলে সর্বাস্তির রূপ ও রূপক,
ঊর্ধ্বে রহি অধিষ্টিত জ্ঞানময় নৈঃশব্দ্যমাঝারে।

মরতের দেহ হেথা যদি বা করিল অঙ্গীকার
শাশ্বত সে আবিনাশী, নাহি জানে সীমা কি বন্ধন;
কল্প কল্পান্তর তারি নিরন্তর ক্রীড়ার প্রাঙ্গণ,
জীবন, জীবন ভার কর্ম্ম যত, তার দীপ্ত ছায়া।

বহি আনে ঊর্ধ্বশিক্তি প্রত্যাশিনী পৃথিবীর তরে,
বিপুল শান্তির স্পর্শে তার ক্রিষ্ট ব্যথিত প্রয়াসে
হয় সে সহায়, করে দূর যুগ-সঞ্চিত বেদনা
আনন্দের ঢলে — ঢালে আলোধারা নিশ্চেতন ঘোরে।

তাইত জীবন তার, কর্ম তাই __ মিথ্যা তার কাছে
মানস-সঙ্কল্প যত স্বল্প-তুষ্ট ক্ষুদ্র-অনুরাগী, —
সমুচ্চের অধিকারী, অনন্তেরে সে করে বরণ,
দিশারী শরণ্য গ্রিয় সনাতন বিশ্বদেব তার।