Swami Chinmayananda, was born as Balakrishna Menon on 8 th May, 1916
in a palatial Namboodiri (priest) family of Ernakulam, (a
thriving town located next to the busy port of Cochin) Kerala.
His
father, Kuttan Menon was a judge in the Ernakulam court and his mother,
Parukutti was a very pious lady.
The birth of a boy to the couple
had been predicted to the couple by Yogiraj Bhairavananda, the kula
guru (spiritual preceptor
of the household). It was also predicted that he would be a great
man and there was even potential for worldwide repute.
As a small
boy he never saw any logic behind the rituals and traditional worshipping
methods followed at home. To pass the long hours of prayer, Balan
turned his mind inward to daydreaming. Balan’s daydreaming
took many forms. One was to study the various gods presented in colorful
paintings on the altar and to make up stories about each one or to
mentally enact and embellish the many stories his aunts had read to
him about these deities.
The deity that best suited his adventurous
temperament was the close up picture of the head of Chandrakaladhara,
a form of Lord Shiva. This splendid Shiva with the crescent moon
in his locks, with the Ganga flowing from them seemed to speak of
tenderness and affection from behind his moustache. He was the ideal
of young Balan’s own heart.
Seeking refuge in the grandeur of
this great Lord and his smile, the child managed to sit through
the long hours each evening. Somehow Balan had stumbled onto this new
game. He would look at the picture of the Lord, and then would
shut his eyes to see Lord Shiva exactly as he was in the picture in
the darkness within.
Inadvertently, Balan had discovered a technique
of meditation called upasana; that
is, mental visualization of the Lord.
Balan officially started his
education in the Sri Rama Varma boy’s
school in the fall of 1921 at five years of age. The school was taught
in English with the native language, Malayalam as an elective, which
he studied till grade four.
In the fifth grade, he switched to Sanskrit,
which he studied for the following five years.
He loved to play
badminton and soccer and at the age of twelve he worked at perfecting
his swimming skills when he went to spend the summer with his cousin.
The
young boy was an unusually attractive child, intelligent also and
soon mastered the art of getting his way, the result being that Balan
was quite a spoilt child.
During the week of the infant’s delivery, a great master (yogi)
of those times, Chattambi Swamigal visited the home.
He was asked to name the baby, and with an appropriate ceremony, the
name Balakrishnan meaning “the child Krishna” was bestowed
on the four day old baby. He was called Balan for short.
When Balan
was around two years of age, Chattambi Swamigal returned to the Menon
home. This time the Swami paid particular attention to Balan. Taking
the boy, he set him on his chest and began to tease and jostle him
in a playful manner. On several occasions he spoke to the boy in
a strange language unknown to anyone in the household and on being
asked what he was telling the boy replied, “Don’t
worry, this is only between me and him, look at his face! See! He
understands what I am saying”. At another time he remarked, “Don’t
worry, I’ve taught him everything”
During the next few
years, he returned several times for short visits. Chatttambi Swamigal
emitted an aura of peace to which Balan was drawn. He sat at the
Swami’s side pulling and twisting his long gray
beard.
At the age of thirteen, Balan began his classes at the Maharaja’s
College in the science stream. Balan had become a less respectable
student. At first he joined the older boys to pull pranks on the teachers,
but before long he began to instigate the mayhem.
During these days
of adolescence, Balan was hardly ever at home after school. He used
to play ball with his classmates or just hang around on the street
corners. He would launch out at any subject at random, not knowing
where to begin or how to end. He was great at imitations and would
send the rowdy boys into peals of laughter mocking their teachers
or the town merchants. He was full of ideas and advice given out in
an embellished form with gestures and jokes.
A royal and dependable
friend with a devil may care attitude there were also moments when
he seemed to have a deep depression, especially when he questioned
about life itself and could not find any meaning or purpose to it.
Because
of playing truant from classes, he could not do well in the exams,
as a result of which he had to put an end to his science career,
he moved to Trichur and enrolled in St. Thomas College and changed
his major to liberal arts.
An arrogant teenager, he considered himself
quite an intellectual. When he thought of God, it was only with a
negative doubt: Who is God? Where is God? But he did not let go his
relationship with Lord Chandrakaladhara. Every night before going to
sleep, he would sit on his bed, mentally visualize this form of Lord
Shiva, and then silently repeat Om
Namah Shivaya before lying down to sleep. Not only had Balan
rejected God, he had also rejected all the superstitious rituals.
Balan
had extravagant tastes and used to wear silk shirts rather than the
traditional cotton. He wore gold chains around his neck, waist and
arms. But his oily hair was what irritated his father the most. But
these criticisms had no effect on Balan who continued to dress in
the style he considered the most elegant. He had no use for the older
generation’s opinion on fashion.
Balan’s uncle, Neelkanta
Menon, Police Commissioner of Cochin, who had graduated from Oxford
Law School had hopes that his nephew would follow in his footsteps.
Balan was a dedicated loafer but he also saw his potential. His father
was also openly disappointed about his son’s behavior. In a
last attempt to make his son qualified for a job in the Indian civil
Service, his father moved one of Balan’s
studious classmates, Shankar right into their home. But Balan’s
behavior affected Shankar’s grades.
Because of his poor grades,
he was denied admission in Madras University and so Balan joined
the Lucknow University and opted for a Masters degree in English literature
and at the same time took a secondary course in Law.
In 1940, when
Menon came to the University, Lucknow had an intellectual and literary
community of no small repute.
He was on the university tennis team,
literary committee and debating team.
In 1942, Balan left the Lucknow University and joined in the Indian
freedom struggle, to join others who were writing and distributing
leaflets and giving speeches to stir up national pride.
The British
countered every demonstration with whips, guns and arrests. During
these massive lockups a warrant was issued for the arrest of Balakrishnan
Menon.
Word reached Menon that British officials were looking for
him, he went undercover.
He spent the following year moving around
in the state of Kashmir and also took frequent trips to his former
classmate Shroff’s
house, which was on the outskirts of Delhi.
After a year of hiding
out, he left Kashmir and traveled towards Delhi. To escape from
some officials he saw on the way he found himself in the military quarters
of a British intelligence communications center, which was responsible
for receiving and relaying coded messages.
He was hired there as
a machine operator as he pretended he was looking for a job. The
officer in charge soon realized that he was too intelligent for so
menial a job and asked Balan why he was doing it.
Balan took the risk
and confided everything to the officer, the officer then made him
his personal assistant, which meant that he would have a good pay and
comfortable living quarters, which also proved a good hideaway.
After
some time, he left for Punjab and ran into several freedom groups.
He again got involved in distributing leaflets and organizing public
strikes, and this time was arrested and imprisoned.
The prison was
makeshift and because of the unhygienic conditions and poor quality
of food, disease was rampant and Balan contracted typhus fever. He
was carried out in the night from the prison and tossed beside a
road on the outskirts of the city.
He was discovered by a sympathetic
Christian lady who devotedly cared for and nursed him back to health.
Balan
then went to Baroda to recuperate and stayed with his cousin, Achu.
It
was during this period, that Balan took up Achu’s typewriter
and began a career in journalism. He used the pseudonym of Mochi, “street
shoe cobbler” as a symbol through which to express the poor
man’s
point of view.
Through these articles, Menon was able to put forth
his ideas of the imperative of socialism in a society, which was
predominantly poor. Although these were Balan’s first journalistic
efforts, they were regularly published in the Indian Nationalist
newspapers.
An important phase of Balan’s life was precipitated
during this stay in Baroda. Here he was to discover, or rather rediscover,
a subject he had left behind some fifteen years back-the Hindu religion.
The
impetus of this rediscovery came from an unlikely source-a women’s
magazine
These particular issues of the, ‘My Magazine’ happened
to feature a series of articles on the lives of the saints in the
Himalayas.
Balan leafed through these magazines and came across the
articles focusing on the values of the Hindu culture and religion.
One
of the issues, an article appeared by the president and founder of
the Divine Life Society of Rishikesh-a dynamic, intelligent, educated
swami dedicated to the spiritual upliftment of his countrymen.
This
was Menon’s first encounter with Swami Shivananda Saraswati
who was later to perform the initiation ceremony in which Menon would
begin his life as a swami
A self-proclaimed agnostic, Balan’s
only concern was the political, economic and social reforms in India;
he had no interest in religion.
These articles brought back haunting,
old memories of those long forgotten days: the ability to sleep well
if he had repeated his mantra.
Eager to get on with his career, Balan
left Baroda and returned to Lucknow University and completed his
MA in English Literature with Honors. This helped him get a job as
a editor with the local newspaper.
He then left for Mumbai and started
working on a small independent newspaper, The Free Press.
After
working for a few months, he departed for Delhi in 1945, Delhi
remained the hub of political activity.
In Delhi, Menon turned to the National
Herald as a medium
to voice his critiques and to suggest solutions of India’s
problems. He quickly gained reputation as a controversial character
as he was willing to speak out against anyone.
Early in 1947, a new
series, “The View From the Footpath” by
Mr. Tramp was started for the publication The Commonweal. Using
first person singular, he would take the view of the underprivileged person
facing the daily drudge of living in the shanties that line the city streets.
Menon’s innate compassion for his fellowmen was quite evident
in his journalism. His sympathy was not only with the poor; his alert
eye was carefully observing and measuring the benefits of the wealth,
fortunate few. The ones who had everything money could buy exhibited
neither happiness nor satisfaction with life.
The mantra that he had
repeated as a child came back to him. He took it up again, not in
the spirit of defeatism, but with the refreshing realization that he
was a mere pilgrim on an unknown path.
His first endeavor was an intense
study of philosophy, mainly European thought. He poured over the
books for moths hoping for some insights to disperse his doubts about
life.
For three years he secretly pursued a life of strict spiritual
practices, while remaining in the very mainstream of life, always
noisy with its gruesome agitations. He was never idle: he reacted to
every solution, suggested plan, discusses scheme, and manifesto; each
social, national, international and one world program.
At the crucial
moments when it seemed that his questions about life were not answerable,
he turned to the words of great saints. He now found some guidance
and direction for his effort. He devoured the books written by and
about these great men.
In 1936, at the age of around 20, he had the
good fortune of meeting one of the most renowned sages of those times,
Sri Ramana Maharshi. His experience with the swami had done something
to him, but his mind wasn’t pure enough to grasp its significance.
He
kept thinking that if the saints were really concerned about mankind,
then why didn’t they come down there with him instead of having
a retired life along the holy rivers and in the sacred mountains?
Haunted
with such doubts and confusions, he determined that he would set
out for the Himalayas to find out the answers to these questions
It was in the summer of 1947 when Balan at last set out for Rishikesh,
as this was the most likely place to find a man of wisdom. Situated
at the base of the Himalayas where the Ganges broadens into the smooth
river after its tumultuous journey from the high altitudes of snow
capped peaks, Rishijkesh was named after an ancient seer (rishi),
who became master (esha) of himself-achieved enlightenment-at
this spot.
He went to the ashram of Swami Shivananda. He explained that
he had come to meet an authentic saint. He was kindly received and
arrangements were made for his stay.
When Swami Shivananda approached
him and a group of devotees, Menon instantly recognized him from
the photos he had seen in the various publications. Swami Shivananda
on being introduced to him, greeted him and asked him a few personal
questions.
He told Swami Shivananda that he wanted to do a story on
the area and that he had read some of the Swami’s works and
had hence come to his ashram-Anand Kutir.
On being told
by Menon that he intended staying only a few days, Swami Shivananda
said that he was welcome to stay as long as he wanted.
Menon soon
observed that the Swami was no hermit sitting in the retirement of
meditation; he was busy seven days a week without holidays or vacations.
In addition to his daily routine of correspondence with spiritual
seekers around the world, writing articles and books on religious subjects,
receiving visitors and administering the hospital, he would sit in
the main hall each evening with his disciples and guests to answer
their doubts and questions, then conduct an evening service of chanting
scriptures and singing devotional hymns, followed by a discourse
on a spiritual text.
Swami Shivananda was the humblest of men; there
was no job too small for him and no day too short to complete his
work, yet he exuded a dynamic peace through all his activities.
Finding
Swami Shivananda such a kind and generous as well as a godly person,
Menon was quite inspired and gradually extended his stay to several
days and then a few more. The days grew into a week, a week into
a month.
During these days, Swami Shivananda would now and again prod
him, saying “God has blessed you with such intelligence; why
don’t
you put it to analyze and see that the worldly life is only misery.
Observe. Think about the life you are living down in the plains.
Then draw your own conclusion!”
There was little doubt in the
minds of the devotees that Balakrishna Menon was receiving special
attention from their guru and they used to wonder why as there
did not appear to be a spiritual bone in his body-he was an extrovert,
always on the move, forever talking. They never saw him in a meditative
mood; instead, his main interest seemed to be his ever-present
cigarette and a cup of tea.
They did admit that he had those big, bulging
yogic eyes and extra long arms, both considered outward signs of
a great yogi of supernatural powers in a previous birth. “There
must be some spiritual tendencies from previous lives. If the Swami
is interested in Menon, it is definitely the result of karma
phala (past
actions)”, they concluded.
In 1947, to commemorate the Diamond
Jubilee Birthday of Swami Shivananda a souvenir book was released.
Menon helped in the editing of this book.
At one evening service,
which was always a rather informal spontaneous service, Swami Shivananda
called on Mr. Menon to get up and speak. Menon was at a loss of words
and did not know what to say. At last Swami Shivananda interrupted
the silence and said it was ok and that he would get another chance.
He also asked him to prepare for the next day’s evening meeting
and asked him to take shreyas and preyas as
his first topic.
Menon researched the suggested theme. After some
time of contemplation on the subject, he carefully wrote out his
thoughts. Then an elder Swami volunteered to check over the ideas
to make sure he had caught the import of the concepts. That evening,
Mr. Menon gave his first
spiritual discourse. The subject was one that had puzzled
many keen observers of life; why is it that man knowing good from
bad, and desiring to do good, still does what he considers bad and
even harmful to himself or others. The discourse on the path of the
sensually pleasant (preyas) versus the path of the morally
good (shreyas)
would not qualify as his most brilliant, but with it Swami Shivananda
launched Mr. P. Balakrishna Menon on a lifework of giving spiritual
talks.
Swami Shivananda was a model swami but there were other swamis
to observe. He silently made these observations and continued with
his study. After three months of ashram life, Menon returned to
Delhi. He picked up his daily life and career as he had left them.
He carried to Delhi a bundle of books from Divine Life printing press,
all written by Swami Shivananda.
At this time a new subject entered
into Menon’s newspaper articles-reviews
of books dealing with spiritual matters. Menon’s book reviews
also included several selections from the Aurobindo Ashram.
Menon
continued to divide his time between Delhi and Rishikesh. Special
spiritual camps of ten days commemorating the many Hindu holy festivals
were regularly held at Ananda Kutir. On these occasions there would
be special chanting of the Lord’s name, often continuously for
several days and nights, ending with Swami Shivananda leading a peaceful
meditation.
Swami Shivananda loved thinking of new ways to present
the truths of the spiritual life to his disciples and guests at the
ashram. On one occasion he organized a short drama from the life
of Gautama Buddha, based on the story in which a distraught mother
comes to the Buddha holding her dead child in her arms. Menon was selected
to participate in the drama as the distraught mother. With a scarf
draped around his head and a cloth bundled baby cuddled in his arms,
he made such a caricature of the dejected little lady, elaborated
such a display of weeping and wailing, that the whole audience exploded
into laughter.
Menon asked Swami Shivananda bout the possibility
of his being initiated to become a swami, but the swami advised him
with caution, “there
is no hurry. You are still so young. You go on with your newspaper
work in Delhi, that’s the Lord’s work too. You must be
sure you have tasted all of the worldly life. Let’s give you
plenty of time to be sure that this is a true desire for the spiritual
life, not just a temporary moment of disenchantment with the world”.
By the spring of 1948, for all practical purposes, Menon had taken
up permanent residence at Ananda Kutir, from there he continued his
career by mailing his articles down to Delhi.
His cousin, Bhaskar
Menon, who wanted to take up Sanyasa, joined Menon. He was given
the initiation by Swami Shivananda and received a new name, Swami Jnanananda.
He planned to set out on a pilgrimage of the Himalayas and asked
Menon to accompany him. Menon had no second thoughts and enthusiastically
decided to join him.
They visited the four great Himalayan spiritual
centers:Yamunotri, Gangotri, Kedarnath and Badrinath. The route to
Gangotri and Kedarnath passes through Uttarkasi, the dwelling place
of Swami Tapovanam, a master of the scriptures as well as austerities.
He was reputed to be among the wisest of the sages in the Himalayas.
This was the first meeting between Swami Tapovanam and Balakrishna
Menon. When it was time to bid adieu to the swami, he advised him: “During
the entire journey, keep a continuous unbroken Brahma (n) vichar
[reflection on the truth]; just as even while one is walking, he
remembers a loved one who is far away”
Balan met several recluses
on this pilgrimage. They included Sri Phalahari Baba, Sri Raghunath
Das and Sri Krishnaraman
One of the experiences that touched Balan
was the one he had with a aged sadhu living in a cave. He was in
poor health and had an ulcerous sore on his leg. There were actually
maggots in the wound. One of the maggots fell from the leg. The sadhu
picked it up, placed it back on the leg, and told it, “There,
my son”.
Then he looked straight into the eyes of Menon and told him, “ Don’t
you know that is all only matter. Matter feeding matter”. Menon
could never forget this firsthand lesson of enduring what must have
been incredible pain without complaint
In the dynamic peace of the
Himalayas, he spent long hours contemplating and meditating. The
events of this pilgrimage were to have a marked influence on the
path that he would chose to take at this juncture.
Menon returned to Ananda Kutir in late August and knew that the moment
had come for his renunciation rites. Swami Shivananda asked him to
obtain permission from his father as was required. The letter to his
father was especially meaningful for the young swami to be, as he had
not directly communicated with his father for seven years. As a fugitive,
he could not write for fear of being traced and after that he did not
want to unnecessarily worry his father. This lack of communication
reflected not only the disorder of those years, but also past tension
with his father over his spendthrift habits when he was at university.
Menon wrote a detailed eight page letter to his father who was shocked
that his son, who had openly criticized religion and had been such
a decadent student that his only concern seemed to be the acquisition
of the finest things money could buy, could even consider becoming
a renunciate. And he was not overjoyed at the prospect of his son
giving up the joys of the world. But in spite of personal reservations,
the elder Menon sent off his letter of permission to Swami Shivananda.
Balakrishnan Menon received the initiation into the sanyasa ashrama from
Swami Shivananda on the 25 th of February 1949, on the auspicious
Shivratri day, along with five other initiates.
The initiates arrived
at the ritual site after a purifying bath in the Ganga river and
the shaving of the head leaving only a tuft on the crown to represent
the desired attachments: the guru and the scriptures.
At the ritual
fire, the initiate purifies his mind as he mentally surrenders any
desire, emotion, or thought of his past into the sacrificial fire,
while he chants, From this moment onwards, I will not be
the enemy of the flying birds, running rivers, flowering trees and
plants, animals and small creatures, and they will not be an enemy
to me. I renounce all desire for wealth, spouse, name and fame.
Having
completed these vows with a devout and sincere mind, Menon and
the five others plunged three times representing the three worlds of
experience, into the Ganga’s chilly waters. With each immersion
a vow of renunciation was enunciated.
The physical world which
includes the bodya nd all objects of the world is renounced. The
astral world, which includes all the emotions and the ancestors,
is renounced The celestial world, which includes all higher
thoughts and God, is renounced.
To complete the ceremony the guru
cuts the last tuft of hair, which means that the attachment to the
guru and the scriptures has also been renounced. He then gives the
new swami a name to represent the birth into spiritual life.
The
name given to the renunciate often indicates the goal he is now seeking,
but it can represent some attribute which is predominant in his character,
or a quality that needs to be developed. The choice of the name often
comes from the insight of the initiating swami. “Chinmayananda
Saraswati” was the name that Swami Shivananda Saraswati
gave the man formerly known as P. Blakrishnan Menon.
Chit means “consciousness”, maya means, “composed
of or of the nature of”, ananda means, “bliss”.
His new name loosely translated is “one who revels
in the bliss which is pure consciousness” \
With the
new name, Swami Shivananda handed n orange robe to Swami Chinmayananda.
The saffron cloth is worn by swamis as a physical reminder of the
vows that have been taken.
Swami Chinmayananda, a product of his British
styled education, could not accept anything on pure faith. He wanted
to know the true import of the scriptures, words that were often
uttered mechanically without understanding and often with misunderstanding. “You
want to master the scriptures, go to Swami Tapovan, the great teacher
from Kerala, your own home state”. With these words, Swami Shivananda
sent his disciple to Swami Tapovanam.
In November 1951, Swami Chinmayananda completed his tour of India
and returned to Uttarkashi. He was resolved to plan a series of Upanishad
Jnana Yagnas in all of the great cities of India. Through this worship
[yagna] of invoking divine wisdom [jnana], Swamiji
envisioned a revival of moral values and spiritual goals. His hope
was that large numbers of the educated, constituting the growing middle
class of the overpopulated cities, could be inspired with the values,
ethics, and pride of their ancient culture.
Experienced businessmen
advised the young swami that the timing was not appropriate for the
spiritual development in light of the economic and political crisis
in the new nation. But that was the real crux of the new plan: a
large mass of people imbues with spiritual ideas and guidance could
lead the country in a positive direction for the benefit of all. They
would give it a strong foundation built on Vedic ideals of mutual cooperation
among men and the gods.
For his first lecture series, Swami Chinmayananda
considered Poona, a small, pleasant city developed during the British
raj as a military center and known for its many educational institutions,
which had produced a sizeable population of learned Hindus.
He visited
Mr. Nanda, whom he had met previously at Rishikesh. Mr. Nanda welcomed
him and listened to his plan for a series of lectures.
When he went
to take his guru, Swami Tapovan’s blessings, Swami
Tapovan was a little skeptical, but still blessed Chinmaya and allowed
him to choose his own path.
When asked by some swamis at Ananda Kutir
what he would do if his talks were not accepted, he replied, “Do?
I’m a sanyasi;
I keep my bags packed. If they like what I say, I’ll stay. If
they don’t, I’ll leave. Its as simple as that.”
In
contrast to Swami Tapovan, Swami Shivananda heartily approved and
encouraged the Upanishad Jnana Yagna plans. “Go roar like
Vivekananda!” extolled the seasoned sage to the young sage.
With
only the clothes on his back, a trunk filled with an accumulation
of notes and books with the words DIVINE MIDDION carefully lettered
on its top, and just enough money to buy a ticket to Hyderabad, Swami
Chinmayananda boarded the train for South India.
Swami Chinmayananda
arrived at Poona on December 23, 1951 with four nickels (annas)
in his pocket. He was received at the railway station by a small
group of people with a traditional flower garland.
The first yagna
committee composed of three men who had met with the swami on his
previous visit, had planned an introductory talk for that very evening
to introduce the content for the upcoming one hundred day Upanishad Yagna.
In that first talk, titled “Let Us Be Hindus” Swami Chinmayananda,
outlined a plan for a spiritual renaissance, which has remained his goal
throughout his lifelong mission.
On the evening of the first Upanishadic discourse, the swami quietly
slipped in and took his seat on a simple mat on the temple floor. He
was facing a group of eighteen people, some were sincere spiritual
seekers, a few were curious seekers, and several were professional
priests who came to criticize. The committee who helped organize the
yagna was rather disappointed at the small turnout and were surprised
to note that Swamiji showed no signs of disappointment. In fact he
was thrilled. Swami Tapovan had warned him when he left Uttarkashi: “Consider
yourself lucky if you find 10 or 15 listeners for Vedanta, especially
when you actually take up an Upanishad as a textbook. Scriptures have
no charm at all for the ordinary folk”. There were more than
the predicted 15 who were interested, so he indeed considered himself
lucky.
During the first seven days of the Jnana Yagna he introduced
the terms and languages of the Upanishads to prepare the audience
for the first scriptural text: Kena Upanishad AS the swamis’ sonorous
voice rang out the eternal truths of life in a straightforward manner
and modern language, a quiet hush settled over the listeners. His
delivery was wonderful and startling.
As he moved into the text of Kena
Upanishad, his vivacity and animated explanations erased the misgivings
of even those who had come to scoff. He roused his listeners with
thundering declarations then coaxed them into blissful silence with
subtle profundities.
The one hundred days were to be used as a opportunity for intense
discipline even thought the audience would be carrying on their normal
daily routines in home or in office. The evening lecture of one and
a half hours would be for the intellectual understanding of the divine
goal. For the emotional personality, a forty-day continual chanting
was begun after the first week of introductory classes.
The seekers
were asked to keep their attention on whatever action they were undertaking
in their daily routine. The Vedantic path was not a daily trip to
hear the lecture but a program of conscious and dedicated living each
day.
From the very first day there were enthusiastic workers who had
the foresight to record each talk in shorthand, transcribe and get
it printed, with the result that twenty four hours after the lecture
was completed, a copy of the talk was in print for distribution.
Three or four daily discourses were combined into booklets called Yagna
Prasad,
and were mailed out free of charge to anyone who requested them.
The
first two Yagna Prasads were addressed to “Sri Swami Tapovanam,
Tapovan Kutir, Uttarkashi” and to “Sri Swami Shivananda,
Ananda Kutir, Rishikesh” with thewords “with prostrations,
Chinmaya” scrawled in Sanskrit across the title page. Both Swami
Tapovan and Swami Shivananda replied back with their blessings and
encouragement.
The first mailing lists were made up of friends and relatives
of the Poona audience, but requests for publication started arriving
in surprising numbers. An appeal for donations to cover the mailing
costs had to be made. The budget and the necessary amount began to
arrive from all parts of India.
Anyone who came to see Swamiji during
the day was put to work, putting Yagna
Prasads into the mailing wrappers, addressing them, and stamping
them for mailing. Swamiji gave clear instructions and observed
closely to make sure they were carried out. Every wrapper had to
be perfectly straight, every address clearly legible, every stamp
upright, or he would instruct the person to redo it properly. “Every
action must be done consciously and attentively. The attention
of the mind has to be on the hand. Even with just this one practice,
you can become a great Yogi,” he would remind them.
The attendance
of the yagna sessions grew along with the enthusiasm. By the end
of the second week the walls of the temple could hardly hold the
crowd. People also flocked to Swamiji’s residence where
he welcomed discussions each morning after breakfast and in the evening
after tea. People had both spiritual and personal questions to ask
him. Swamiji was giving them new insights and he always had light comic
parables for every situation to bring home the truth of the matter.
He kept everyone laughing at themselves and their own foolish misconceptions.
As
the yagna continues, Swamiji incorporated several new elements
into the program. A Swami arrived from Ananda Kutir to lead bhajans
before the lecture to bring the mind to a peaceful state. At the
end of the forty days of continuous chanting which coincided with the
midpoint of the 100 day yagna, a four day traditional vedic havan ritual
was initiated.
The first three days were conducted by Brahmin priests
who chanted the entire four Vedas and made certain offerings of clarified
butter. On the fourth day, to conclude the ceremony, the entire crowd
sat in a circle around the ritual fire for the chanting of the scriptures.
To the surprise of the Brahmin priests, everyone in the audience,
including the women, businessmen and lower caste students joined in
the chanting. Swamiji carefully explained the symbolism of the distinct
part of the ritual.
Swamiji realized that the revitalization of the
culture meant the proper use of these traditional practices of rituals,
chanting and pilgrimage. He too had left these practices but after
understanding the whole of religion, he realized that these parts
had a valuable purpose.
Swamiji treated the audience with equality
regardless of their profession or status, except for the occasional
extra criticism of the Brahmin priests which was not wholly undeserved
as the Brahmins thought that it was their self appointed rights to
be the only ones to read, and study the scriptures.
Swamiji exuded
an aura of love and confidence in all his activities: a holiness
not of a quiet, contemplative, morose demeanor, but of a dynamic, joyful
enthusiasm that presented a challenging model of what a life lived
by precise disciplines and spiritual insight can be. In every situation,
he always pointed the listeners to a fuller, freer attitude to guide
their lives.
The second text taken up during the yagna was Katha
Upanishad.
To contribute to the necessary mental refinement, Swamiji gave personal
initiations into the practice of meditation. He would talk individually
to each of the thirty to forty people who lined up at the front door.
The only pause during the yagna was a five-day pause, when Swamiji
came down with typhoid to enable him to overcome the fever. A good
thing about the illness was that Swamiji gave up his habit of smoking.
In his words, “I thought about how it would appear to me if
I saw someone discussing spiritual philosophy while puffing away
on a cigarette, so I stopped”
Before the yagna ended Swamiji
spoke to some people about the next venture and went to Bombay
to regain his strength depleted by the attack of typhoid.
In March, 1956 Swamiji received word that Swami Tapovanam had fallen
ill. Swamiji took a month off from his schedule to be with his guru.
During this month Swamiji took up the long and arduous task of dictating
the commentaries on the Bhagavad Gita. He had taught up to
Chapter XI in the jnana yagnas, but whenever time permitted, he preferred
to dictate the original material. He used a less formal language in
his talks, and he often took examples from the lives of the people
in the audience, which were meaningless out of context. Also he gave
careful attention that each verse should have a completeness in itself,
so if one picked up the book and read just a couple of verses, one
could not be misled.
Later that year word was received that Swami Tapovan’s
health was much worse. Immediately, several of the devotees in Delhi
drove up to Uttarkasi to bring him back for a proper diagnosis and
medical treatment. When Swami Chinmayananda completed a yaga in New
Delhi, he again traveled to Uttarkasi to be with his guru. He later
wrote of that last meeting:
During my last visit to Tapovan Kutir
in early December 1956, I broke down suddenly and burst into tears.
Swamiji saw the tears and said softly, ‘‘Chinmaya
it is easy to learn Vedanta, easier to preach Vedanta-hard indeed to
live the knowledge. When we are born, death is born with us. The Lord
gave me so long an opportunity to live and experience. Now HE, who
was waiting so long, is coming to meet me. You say I must now run
to escape him? How? Here how quietly I have lived; now cannot I quietly
die, hearing the eternal music of my Mother Ganga. Don’t weep.
You go and continue the work…….Come now!”
Swamiji
was conducting a yagna in Palghat, Kerala when he received word that
Swami Tapovan had breathed his last breath on the full moon day (purnima)
in January. Upon hearing the news, Swamiji’s eyes
filled with tears. “Swamiji, are you crying?” ventured
one of the ladies. “Yes, of course. Do you think that because
a man is a renunciate that he is devoid of feelings? I have emotions
just like anyone”
Swamiji journeyed upto Rishikesh to stay alone
for a few days in meditation. A sage is not attached to the physical
world because he knows the Reality beyond it; therefore, for him
there is no funeral, no cremation. Immediately after his death, the
body of Swami Tapovan was carried to the holy Ganga he had loved so
dearly and put into her icy waters.
In Madras on August 8, 1953, a handful of people who had attented
the second yagna, got together to create a forum for study and discussions.
They wanted an ongoing program to clarify the days spent with Swamiji.
They enthusiastically wrote to Swamiji about their plan, plus thir
intention to call their new organization “Chinmaya Mission”.
His reply arrived from Tapovan Kutir in the Himalayas:
“Don’t start any organization in my name. I’ve
not come here to be institutionalized. I’ve come here to give
the message of our ancient sages which has benefited me. If it has
benefited you, pass it on”
They wrote back stating that the word “Chinmaya” did
not have to indicate swamiji’s name, since the word itself
meant “the
true knowledge” that they were seeking. “As seekers of
the truth, we are calling ourselves the Chinmaya Mission,” they
concluded. Therefore, Swamiji had no actual decision in the start
up of what has developed into many armed cultural and service organization
that has provided a field for the practical manifestation of the
spiritual ideals.
After two years the Mission had six branches in
Madras, each with a small library of spiritual books and a weekly
programs of discussions, singing of devotional hymns, chanting
of the scriptures, and a group meditation.
When the third national Chinmaya
mission Conference convened in 1964, there were more than one hundred
centers with study groups, children’s
and women’s groups and numerous cultural activities. Swamiji
suggested that the central committee serve as a bridge, not an authority,
to provide a connection for the extended Chinmaya family. Several
of the centers had managed, usually through an individual donation
to have a building to serve as a coordination center for the various
groups in that city, as well as to furnish space for meetings and
classes.
The symbol of the mission was designed
with an artistic integration of books, a burning oil lamp, a swan
(hamsa), and a lotus blossom. The books represented the Prasthana
Treya: the Upanishads,
the Brahma Sutras and the Bhagvad Gita. The oil
lamp is the symbol of the moral and ethical life necessary to develop
the discrimination power to bring forth the light within. The swan,
a scared bird in Hindu mythology, is said to be capable of drinking
only the milk (the sustenance) when it is mixed with water (the dross).
Such a capacity to discriminate is the goal of the spiritual student.
The lovely lotus, also the national flower of India, symbolizes the
final goal of human life: the flowering and unfolding of the innate
inner beauty even while remaining physically rooted in the mud of
the earth.
Swamiji continuously emphasized that the Chinmaya Mission
was for anyone who was working for the upliftment of the people
of Bharat. In 1963, on behalf of the Chinmaya Mission Centers, Swamiji
donated n offering of 10,000 rupees to the Swami Vivekanada Rock
Memorial Committee at a celebration held in Madras commemorating
the centennial birthday of the Swami. In 1965, when Pakistan attacked
India over the old partition feud, the Chinmaya Mission collected
money, food, gold and clothes for the war effort.
Swamiji has considered the training of the children the most tangible
step in the revival of the values of Hinduism in the society. “The
spiritual seed must be sown to germinate. Children are the architects
of the future world. They are the builders of humanity”.
One of
the first programmes specifically for children was organized by Mrs.
Janaki Seth in Delhi in 1955. She gathered thirty-five children,
the youngest three years old to begin the Children’s Well Being
Mission. She told stories with an emphasis of making the children
self reliant and organized in their daily habits. They would often
act out these stories in short skits to reinforce the ideas. That spring
the children gave a performance of the Radha Krishna dance depicting
Holi, the divine play of the Lord with his consort.
In Ernakulam, Miss
Janaki Menon started the second Well Being Center. Children came
to her home weekly to learn bhajans, prayers, and story telling.
In
1956, the Madras group organized a children’s excursion
to Guruvayur. Guruvayur is considered a special temple for children
because the idol is the child Krishna.
These various projects were
the impetus for the beginning of a children’s
section of the Chinmaya Mission for weekly study, singing, and story
telling. In each city, one or two women took the responsibility for
a Bala Vihar club of eight to ten children who met in the leader’s
home. Soon there were twenty to thirty clubs in each of the large cities
and at least one group in dozens of small towns.
In the spring of 1959,
a national Spiritual Arts Festival was held in Hyderabad. The competitions
and exhibitions were to encourage development of individual talent
and included religious paintings, classical dance and several drama
presentations.
In the fall of 1959, the Chinmaya Mission sponsored
an all India Children’s Conference to highlight the results
of two years of Bala Vihar activities and to stimulate the exchange
of ideas among the leaders.
Swamiji loved children and that love was
wholeheartedly by the wide-eyed, self assured Hindu children.
Swamiji was also working on programs to interest the young people
in their spiritual heritage, for the future of India was in their hands.
He hadn’t completely forgotten the listlessness of his University
days and wanted to help the students to avoid the pitfalls he had encountered.
Therefore, he was thrilled to receive an invitation in 1953 to speak
for four consecutive evenings at the Fergusson College in Poona. Emphasizing
that religion can stand the test of modern analysis, while at the same
time attract the restless student’s attention, Swamiji called
the lecture series “The Creative Power under the Lens of Logic
and Science.”
The auditorium was packed with young students listening
in an atmosphere of divine silence. He encouraged them to raise questions
and air their doubts. The following week they gathered at his residence
in the afternoons for lively discussions.
He wanted to start young
people thinking for themselves about the religious ideas presented
in the yagna talks that they attended with their parents.
In the
second Gita Jnana Yagna in 1955, the students presented a short satire
set in modern life based on the Gita talks. A student essay competition
on the subject ‘My Religion’ based on
the ideas on the third and fourth chapters of the Gita was announced.
Swamiji addressed students at various colleges at any opportunity.
The
book Meditation and Life, compiled from the meditation
classes at the 1955 Delhi Yagna was passed out to all graduates of
Madras University and Delhi University. Activities were initiated
for the revival of many facets of Hindu culture.
Among the women who came to hear Swamiji were many talented and energetic
ladies. However in spite of their liberation and education, according
to the modern male Brahmin priest, the Hindu religion was not for women;
therefore, the universality of Vedanta was especially appealing to
them. As early as 1954 in Delhi, there was an all female committee
to organize the yagna; in 1962, the women of Madras organized the 100
th yagna.
Women have continued to be as source of creative initiative
for the many cultural and service projects of the Chinmaya Mission.
In
1958, in Madras, a ladies group was started. They wanted to keep
in contact and decided to meet weekly to discuss the scriptures and
how the concepts applied to specific problems in their homes. When
they approached Swamiji with the news of the latest Chinmaya Mission
activity, he encouraged them in their endeavor and named them the Chinmaya
Devi (Goddess) Group.
The momentum of the women’s
activities was given a real boost when in January, 1960, several
hundred women delegates from twenty-three towns gathered in Kerala
for a Chinmaya Devi Conference. Each day was filled with lessons
on the scriptures, instructions and practice in bhajans and satsang
with Swamiji.
Swamiji’s message to these women centered on the
importance of the woman in the family. When the mother is a true
seeker, the whole environment of the household changes. “Your
family does not have to go out to hear a swami. You change and your
environment will follow suit”,
he assured them. “You are the mother, the model and the guru”.
The first of many teachers conferences sponsored by the Chinmaya
mission was held in Bombay for the teachers of the fifth standard.
This training was for teachers already employed in the public schools
to give them a background to their religious heritage to enable them
to share it with their students.
Swamiji inaugurated the curse with
a lecture on the difference between instructors and teachers. He
sated that real education means the transformation of knowledge into
wisdom, which is then used to carve out a strong character. In the
educational process, the character and personality of the teacher is
most important. Swamiji concluded the talk with words to inspire all
the attendees to work and live such a moral life that they would become
known as ideal teachers.
During the following week, the teachers attended
classes on the stories from Puranas and other epics such as the Ramayana and Bhagvatam, plus
the lives of various saints. The teachers studied how the characters
symbolize aspects of the human personality in the universal struggle
to overcome the material dream of the ego and thereby contact the
divine Self. Swamiji concluded the week with a reminder that self-development
is a long process and that some religious education would not necessarily
alter the student’s attitudes immediately.
The first stage of the Hindu Renaissance had been the jnana yagnas
on major Upanishads and the Bhagvad Gita and the publication
of their commentaries. The second phase would be the training of young
people to serve as teachers in the future India. As early as June 1955,
in an inauguration address in a Madras yagna, Swamiji mentioned an
idea of a school to train and teach young men and women so that they
cold dedicate their lives to the noble cause.
Swamiji wanted full time
servants of the Divine Mission without worldly ties or vested interests,
brave and courageous like himself who were willing to leave personal
ties and concerns for a life of service of the divine through service
to man. The training of these young people would be two fold. First,
in an ashram setting, the major scriptures would be studied, then
they would give discourses on the scriptures in their respective communities.
Thus
the construction of the Sandeepany Sadhanalaya was the fulfillment
of a long cherished dream. Begun early in 1961, it was built entirely
through yagna collections and private donations offered by the numerous
supporters of Swamiji’s mission.
Situated in a natural setting
beside the lovely Powai lake thirty kilometers from Bombay, the school
was named for the guru of Sri Krishna, Rishi Sandeepanay. Here in
a through training for three years, free of any expense, young men
and women would gain a through knowledge of the basic Hindu scriptures.
All of Swamiji’s lectures would
be cancelled for the three year period.
On April 11, 1963, with the
completion of the building for classes, hostels and the combined
kitchen and dining hall, the training course was begun with appropriate
fanfare. The thirty students together hoisted the flag with the
large OM symbol amidst Vedic chanting, ringing of bells, and the blowing
of a conch.
Swamiji never expressed discouragement about the number
of students although it was fewer than he had anticipated, and considerably
less than had originally wanted to take the course.
The students were
to find that learning about knowledge was an arduous endeavor. At
4.00 a.m. a bell rang to announce the beginning of the day. The first
duty was to clean the classroom and prepare it for the day. From 4.30-5.00
a.m. there was a period of chanting the scriptures, then the class
began promptly at 5.00 a.m.
After class, each student had a task
around the ashram. Some cleaned the rice, dal or wheat for grinding
into flour for rotis; the women washed and cut the vegetables for
the daily meals; the men did gardening or general clean up; others
worked on production of the Tapovan
Prasad magazine. For the reminder of their free time they were
expected to be studying and reflecting on the ideas for their scriptural
study.
For the first year Swamiji lived in the men’s hostel
insisting that his cottage should not be built until all the school
facilities were completed.
Satsang with the students was fitted into
the day only after he had finished all of his duties at the ashram
and his daily stack of correspondence was answered.
Each afternoon
walking tall and straight with his measured pace, Swamiji would make
a round of the ashram to check the ongoing construction.
The foundation
stone for the temple at Sandeepany was laid on April 10, 1964, by
the Sri Shankaracharya of Kavir Matha. Amidst a crowd of students and
Chinmaya Mission members, the ninety nine year old swami blessed the
auspicious occasion with his holy presence and prayers.
The year at
Sandeepany free from travel gave Swamiji the time to finalize an
idea that had been at the back of his mind and bring it into manifestation.
In November, 1963, he announced the idea to convene a Hindu Council,
inviting delegates from all over the world to meet, discuss and discover
the needs and difficulties for the maintenance and revitalization
of Hindu culture.
In August, 1964, sixty delegates assembled at Sandeepany
representing the many different sects of the Hindu society. This
conference was the initiation of a yearly Vishwa Hindu Parishad, or
World Hindu Conference with specific aims
To take steps to consolidate
and strengthen the Hindu society
To protect, develop, and spread the
Hindu values, both ethical and spiritual, in the context of modern
times.
To establish and strength contacts with Hindus living abroad.
By the
end of the first year of classes, it was apparent that to financially
sustain the operating funds for the ashram, Swamiji would have to
continue with the yagnas. “Do not waste a single minute!” he
challenged the students on his way out of the ashram gates.
The ashram
kept strict rules: every departure had to be okayed in advance. Visitors
from outsiders had to be approved. No letters to or from the family
were allowed during the first year.
There were also opportunities
for those who were not to eb full time teachers to take advantage
of the classes at Sandeepany. During the summer after the opening of
the ashram there was a one-week sadhana camp for the Chinmaya mission
study group members were the students would be asked to speak a few
words on the text.
The ashram also served as a temporary home for swamis
from the Himalayas who needed medical care.
The men and women who
trained at Sandeepany through the years were young and encountered
many challenges in their attempts to keep up to Swamiji’s ideal.
He
repeatedly explained to the students that one who renounces the
world will build up mental energy from his meditation because his energy
is no longer being dissipated in the world of objects. This energy
can became like a dam without any channels for the overflow; inevitably
the dam will break. To avoid this, the students were to put energy
into study and meditation, and also performing physical actions
by teaching and serving others.
Wishing to share the wisdom of the ancient Hindu sages with others,
Swamiji at last agreed to carry the message to distant lands.
Before
leaving on his first world tour, Swamiji made a trip to the Himalayas
to visit Ananda Kutir to pay his respects at the place of internment
(Swami Shivananda had died on July 17, 1963. Mahatmas are not cremated
since there is no attachment to the body.) of the man who had instilled
in him twenty years earlier the idea to take the message of the Sanathana
Dharma of the Vedas to the foreign lands. After returning to Delhi,
Swamiji along with Mr. Reddy boarded the plane on March 6, 1965 for
their first stop, Bangkok.
During his first tour, Swamiji introduced
the ideas of Vedanta in one or two day talks on the logic of spiritual
life. He spoke at such places as the Asia Society in San Francisco
and the Vedanta Society in Los Angeles.
The tour included stops in
the West Indies, South Africa, Mauritius and Malaysia, areas with
large Hindu populations.
These Hindus had clung to their religion even
though they were away from India. As there had not been proper guidance
and little contact with their homeland for century, many misconceptions
about the scriptures and rituals were prevalent.
On the second trip
to America, he conducted a series of lectures of four or five days
on specific topics. It was not difficult to draw a crowd because
there was a regular audience who were going out to hear the gurus-any
Indian guru-who passed through the country. Swami Chinmayananda was
different, first in spite of the English accent he spoke English quite
well. He often was so practical; he seemed to have a sensible answer
to every aspect of life, whether material or spiritual.
After several
trips to the U.S. he decided that the introductory time was over
and it was time for serious business. He began an intensive schedule:
in the morning a text such as Adi Shankaracharya’s
Bhaja Govindam and in the evening one and a half hours from the Gita;
then, after a ten minute break, a class on the Upanishad began.
In
the talks in the West, he emphasized that all truth is one. Christians
were not to become Hindus, but by study of the philosophy their own
understanding of Christianity would be enhanced and their own personal
relationship with Christ and his teachings would deepen.
His fifth
world in 1972, the Vedanta talks were arranged in Universities with
the assistance of the Departments of Philosophy or Religious studies
and included the University of Hawaii, University of California at
Berkeley, M.I.T. and Cornell.
The first Chinmaya Spiritual Camp outside
India was held in 1973 at California State College, Sonoma.
After
the 1975 camp at Humboldt State University, the Chinmaya Mission
West was incorporated. The principal goal of the organization was to
broadcast Swamiji’s vision; to be ever awake to the creative
possibilities for reaching people of all ages, faiths and social
status with a philosophy that is neither Eastern nor Western, but simply
Truth.
The Chinmaya Mission West includes the United States, Canada,
Trinidad, Mexico, central and South America and the West Indies.
The regional centers sponsor study groups, classes, mini camps, Bala
Vihar for children and have responsibility for organizing Swamiji’s
lectures. The central office in Napa, the San Jose, California took
the responsibility for publishing and distribution the Chinmaya books,
tapes, a news letter and a quarterly journal.
Swamiji continued to
return to the U.S. each year to speak at universities in half a dozen
major cities, with the exception of 1977 when his passport renewal
was mysteriously delayed after he had publically criticized Indira
Gandhi’s emergency program.
In 1979, an eight acre parcel of
land in the redwood country of northern California was purchased
for an ashram school in the style of Sandeepany Sadhanalaya.
In 1963, Swamiji had visited the Christian area of Goa. This was
an unprecedented event for the people of Goa. A Hindu missionary had
come to remind them of their ancient cultural and spiritual heritage.
In
January of 1973, Swami Chinmayanada was invited as n honored guest
to the All India Ramayana Conference in Trivandrum. There he was
named one of the Sapta Rishis, that is, one of the seven immortal rishis
who continue to come to the earth to serve humanity.
In 1975, Swami
Chinmayananda participated in an open forum of all religions, organized
by the Sufi master, Pir Vilayat Khan.
In 1975 he traveled to the Shringeri
Matha to pay his respects to the presiding Sri Shankaracharya, The
Shankaracharya presented him with a double rudraksha seed encased
in gold. A double Rudraksa seed is quite rare and is considered of
a special significance as it symbolizes the wedding of Shankara and
Gauri, spirit and matter, the two pillars of creation joined into one.
In
1973, he had personally invited Satya Sai Baba to preside over the
opening ceremony of the national yagna held at Bangalore.
In 1978,
Swamiji met with the Tibetan Buddhist leader, the Dalai Lama, when
in Dharmashala. The Dalai Lama took this opportunity to ask Swamiji
some clarifications of Sanskrit terms used in Hinduism.
At Swamiji’s
invitation on January 25, 1979, the Dalai Lama came to Prayag to
inaugurate the Vishwa Hindu Parishad Sammelan attended by over a
thousand Hindus from over tow dozen countries.
In the spring of 1979,
Swamiji was among the distinguished swamis who were invited to speak
at the 83 rd birthday celebration of Anandamai Ma, held in Bangalore.
The
137 th Yagna in Bombay was inaugurated by Valerian Cardinal Gracias
who called for a revitalization of all religions to meet new challenges
of the changing times.
The crisis of society at large as well as the needs of individual’s
created the impetus that kept Swamiji constantly at work. He had an
inexhaustible energy which seemed continually replenished by the crowds
of people who came to listen to him. In 1970 all the principal scriptures
of Vedanta had been taught in the large cities; they had been translated
and published I many Indian languages; and a dozen brahmacharis were
scattered in the major cities to teach classes. With his student now
teachers, Swamiji made mention that he would be able to slow down and
spend more time advising and encouraging others with their own plans
and with the many Chinmaya Mission projects.
Illness had slowed his
activities more than once; he took it as a warning that the body
would not be able to continue at its usual pace. As early as 1957,
he had to cancel four days of the Delhi yagna because of sore throat
and high fever. The next episode in 1960 was a severe attack of high
fever.
This pattern of an exhaustive work schedule interspersed with
short, minor illnesses of high fever, sore throat, and coughs continued
through the sixties. Then on March 21, 1970, just five days into
a yagna in Mysore, Swamiji suffered a heart attack. After three days
in the hospital, there were signs of improvement. With the exception
of a couple of relapses during the following month, he continued
to improve. On May 10, he was discharged.
Upon the insistence of his
doctors Swamiji spent the following year in recuperation and rest,
although he was anxious when he thought of all the things to be accomplished
in India.. He began to turn over responsibilities to others.
After
a retreat at Tapovan Kutir in the spring of 1972, Swamiji was again
going full pace with yagnas both in India and abroad.
In the late
1970’s, the high fever, sore throats and coughs
were occurring regularly. Swamiji declared that the time had come
to conclude his work and retire. A spot for an ashram complex was
selected in the western Himalayas at Sidhabari in the Kangra valley.
It was to serve as a retirement place for Swamiji and other mission
workers, and would also contain a school styled after Sandeepany
Sadhanalaya. The difference was to be the use of Hindi instead of
English for the classes and the principal text would be the Ramayana.
The school was to produce Hindi-speaking teachers, compatible with
their cultural roots, for the people of northern India.
While Swamiji
was in the United States for a series of yagnas in 1980, his heart
condition required surgery. He was finally persuaded to go to a
hospital to have his heart function tested. Cardiac catherization revealed
a blockage of more than eighty percent in all the four main arteries
supplying blood to the heart.
A bypass surgery was performed on
Swamiji on August 23, 1980 following a three-day diagnostic period.
Subsequent to two months recuperation in Houston and Detroit, Swamiji
pushed up his sleeves, rubbed his palms together, and declared: “Okay,
now I have ten more years, lets see what I can do!”
After his
surgery, Swamiji’s retirement at Sidhabari was postponed
indefinitely. Instead an annual spiritual camp conducted by him was
held each summer.
In autumn of 1986, the initial group of brahmacharis
had completed the course at Sidhabari.
By 1987, there were fifty
brahmacharis dispersed in the major cities and towns, teaching classes,
organizing Mission projects, administering schools and participating
in any number of service projects according to their own talents
and the needs and circumstances of the community.
In 1993, Swamiji fell
very ill when he was in Sandiego for a lecture series. He finally
attained Samadhi (gave up his mortal coils) in Saint Cripps Hospital,
San Diego, California on August 3, 1993.
His body was brought to India
and taken to Sidhabari, where HE rests in final retirement, over
looking the majestic Dhauladhar ranges
