Gita’s desperation

Posted By Author on April 30, 2011

26/8/1967:

I got up late and finished ablution.  The rain was creating havoc.  It continued since ten days. Flood was swelling and it seemed difficult to start for home next day.  Ramanidada came to see my health. He administered warm water mixed with rock salt and lemon juice.  After a while he enquired whether I had motion.  I told nil.  The poor crippled inmate was cleaning kerosene lantern. Being paralytic he was oscillating without control over his limbs.  I completed diary and took rest. Ramanidada requested me to leave my mirror while leaving.

In the evening furious flood took abominable dimension.  Dasmana came on the other bank and pelted stones.  He dared not cross the bridge.  We were shut off from the world.  The central part of our frail bridge was swept away.  Only two logs remained.  Shyamlalji came with dak but could not come and hence returned.

Monotony of loneliness bored me and hence I went to Ramanidada’s hut.  Gita and Dipali joined me for a gossip.  Gita’s predicament was awful and her longing for home was accelerating day by day.  She said to me, “If not home Rishikesh will do.  At least there will be people around.”  I requested her to accompany me and go to Amravati.  She lamented and gave a touching reply, “No. No Suresh Babu.  That is a city of gentlemen.  Is it not?  We are not gentlemen.  This Baba is very shrewd and wily.  Now see.  He says if I take away Chinu he will die.  I know he will not perish but he has posed a dilemma.  If I loved Chinu as a mother I must stickup here and if not I should go alone without her.  What a problem he has created.  My father never listen to me or pays any heed to my predicament.” She was very impatient to go home and see mother.

Ramanidada arrived and we mute and  dumb. He too was fed up and out of frustration grumbled, “You do not know my fate. There is a limit to tolerance.  I feel I should die.  I can now commit even murder.  Now look Baba says you go from this place, intense suffering is ahead.  Villagers would come and beat.  He knows I cannot leave him in this struggle.  He wants us to beg pardon.  I am not Dinu.  I cannot start life afresh. This is all maddening me.  You do not know.”

Gita with tears in eyes told that her mother’s condition was worst.  Ramanidada added that she had to keep my remaining children at other’s place and what more shameful could there be.

Baba came wrapped in solitary ‘gamcha’ after finishing his bath.  He said that I should examine his palm and that there was change in lines.  I had to corroborate.  He then said in Hindi that intense suffering was ahead.  Villagers would come with sticks and beat him. Since three months his body was out of order and useless.  Then he went in.  Gita immediately joined me and with a flash of smile said that Baba had boiled all clothings and as they were not dry he was in towel all the while.  He looked ludicrous and weird in sole short ‘Gamcha’. After dinner I retired.

27/8/1967:

When I got up it was still raining. I went to Ramanidada’s hut. He handed over a telegram to me.  Shyamlal had been there dangerously walking over remnant two logs.  The telegram was from the Principal Sitanshu Mukherjee of my college.  It ran ‘If road improves join by 30th in any case.“ All India Radio (AIR) and News Papers flashed heavy landslides and traffic jam in Garhwal and hence he could understand my plight.

Baba came.  He delivered his letter written in Hindi. It was addressed to Ramprasadji of Kanpur through his nephew Gopal. He was told to send twenty six hundred rupees immediately.  He told me to accompany Ramanidada to Rishikesh and make their arrangement of living there and then go further to Amravati.  I showed him the Principal’s telegram.  The discussion followed and he calculated days of journey. He proposed that I should go to Kanpur, hand him the letter and send T.M.O. and catch a plane for Nagpur so that I could reach in time and period of journey would be same as by train.

I told Baba that I decided to leave after completion of his inner work but it was disturbed due to lack of matchboxes. Had he informed me earlier I would have gone and purchased it in time.  In fact they were there in his basket.  I thought it was a case of hanging Peter for Paul.  On this he said that I should send either from Kanpur or Lucknow rupees five hundred to Rajat, seventy five to Gyanbabu at Asansol, rupees two hundred and fifty to Gobind at Calcutta who would start by Dun express immediately to reach here.  After that he gave the following dictation on my comment of recent impediment in his work as below:

“The more strenuous will be the work, the more powerful will be the obstacles and more the self created disruption, the still more powerful will be the obstructions in as much as the subtle forces always on the lookout to disturb the work get clear channel to disrupt the work more.

I know definitely about the physical inconveniences you encounter and only a callous ignoramus will be blind to it but in spite of all this you, all the physical inconveniences notwithstanding, go forward to do something even against your clearly physical disabilities under directions not with reluctance and dejected mood but with spontaneous joy of carrying out a direction, your physical inabilities will not tell upon your physical body and even if more or less it tells upon the physical body, the effect will disappear through your joyful earnestness and through something else.  I admit, to have this spontaneous trend of mind is not an easy one but without cautious, careful, even conscious, and joyful attempt at it, you can never make real progress.  In spite of strenuous labour and hardships you all did and incur upon yourselves here all of you more or less have stumbled and these stumbling of yours has turned into my own stumbling blocks whereas this spontaneous mood in you always prevailing, all your failures would have been my stepping stones.  Failure under the stress of circumstances is one thing and failure under the working of the shallow heart is quite a different thing. Of course, depth of heart developed in every way can never be expected of you but all works in relation to this spontaneous mood described above is always a precondition.  If in both you are secure and the work will not suffer in spite of repeated failures, failure on your part succeeds in disrupting work only when failure in work is accompanied by the failure of the heart.  No failure with the heart functioning properly will be a disruptive force and even if external work you do as best as it could be done without, real response and co-operation of the heart, your work outwardly successful and done with all completeness will remain a disrupting force.  It is the heart that is the determining factor of your fall or rise.  External work is of course of some consequence but it is the heart with which the real work is done, gives real meaning to it.  Strip off it all works are mere stagnations.

Can you retrospect back when the other day you were asked to go to bring the matches at once then through the working of some unaccustomed physical hardships you without clearly knowing as such felt more or less dejected and reluctant.  Of course these did not last long but still it rose up.  It was overcome perhaps automatically by the action of the heart but still, at least for a moment it raised its disrupting head.

There is a mechanism in inner human structure, which always works in such a way as to make one oblivious of the mistakes and blunders one commits.  More so when one commits it with a half-developed conscious working smoulderingly that a mistake is committed.  In the latter case the former mechanism starts working out more powerfully to wipe out from the conscious memory even traces of the mistakes or blunders committed.

In this particular case of yours the latter one has taken place.  With rising self-consciousness if the sordid trick of this mechanical device is not caught hold of and the whole mechanism reconstructed and reconstituted in a healthy way then the prospect of treading the path of self-development will always remain bleak.  Day in day out, this mechanical device of ignorance is playing this sordid trick upon the helpless humanity.  Only if the human nature rises up in revolt against the mischievous sordidities with a clear conception and firm will to get oneself clear of this mischief then and then alone the real path will be made open to him.

Just analyse another aspect before you got rebuke.  Just now thrice I told you to the contradictory and thrice without being pensive you spoke in a different way.  Does it not imply that I am making a definite statement without caring for the facts?  How is it that without being pensive you speak in opposition to what is definitely asserted here?  Then again when as a rebuke you are told in a rebuking manner, ‘you are a fool’ then impulsively the word ‘yes’ slipped out of you.  What a folly it is to indulge in this sort of impulsiveness.  The expression shows that the mind is at a revolt and not only this on being rebuked by the elders to indulge in this sort of impulsiveness is a trait manipulated by some uncultured corner of the mind. You must develop in such a way that every word that drops from your mouth, your every behaviour and expression must be of highest refined manner.  Relative culture and refinement you have developed and you are trying to develop but this is not sufficient.  The highest refinement must unfold itself in you and through you.”

I contradicted some points of the above note. I was gazing vacantly at a long distance with a rampaging thought that I wished I should be wrong but strongly felt that if he could mitigate his psycho-analytical phobia a bit and divest energy in writing his post 1945 autobiography what a miracle it would be for the world even when he would be no more. I felt sorry for him.  Baba thought that I was weeping when I was engrossed and when he queried I followed the adage ‘silence is virtue’.  Baba then observed that to acquire mastery all that analysis was indispensable.  In a way he found out that my mind was in revolt.  I did not further contradict him.  Of what use it would have been. It would have turned me into a nincompoop. For flimsy reasons his plan to come out was always hampered and postponed umpteen times. He was in wavering mind and did dilly-dally the start of work always. Consequently our anxiety and anxiousness continued endlessly. Situation remained in limbo. All of us who came with money went bankrupt and for return journey money was borrowed from neighbourhood. However, I realized his helplessness. He was packed in a box of uncertainty, worry of failure or success, extreme optimism and pessimism and ultimately in digression to maintain old image. Acceptance Chinu’s birth by the society was an unending and haunting dilemma.

I then informed him that Shyamlalji had arrived.  He called him and dictated a list of things to be purchased by him.  His mood changed.  He said to me that he could control the deterioration of his health otherwise it would have been a problem.  He then took me alone in privacy and said, “Suresh if you now receive a telegram be sure that rupees two hundred and fifty lakh are procured.  The telegram would mention that if you do not get leave abandon the job.  Your mother will feel better.  I think it will be between 15th and 20th September and Chinu’s rice feeding ceremony will be performed on 25th and 26th.” As usual I said yes and agreed. What else could I do? His figures of enticement always varied.

After taking brunch I proceeded to Okhimath.  The sky was getting clear.  Weather was fine.  After ten days I could discern a patch of blue sky.  Crossing the bridge of two logs was a feat of valour. At Okhimath made purchases and engaged a coolie.  Returned to camp.  Baba called me.  He was radiant and in a jubilant mood.  He was worried as to how I would carry the plants and suggested to get a coolie if possible. He ordered that I would not leave at night but after taking meals go in the morning.  He went for his bath instructing me to be on watch.  I performed the sentry duty. Then chatted with Ramanidada.  Baba was still in loincloth as his clothes were not dry yet. He looked very weird and funny. I observed the naevus of a small black patch below his right breast spot. The chest was covered by dense white hair.

I tried to pluck a cucumber and fell down from a huge boulder.  My foot was bruised and bled profusely.  Medicinal mud was applied.  Dipali screamed in agony as she accidentally brushed against the scorpion bush.  Its leaves give pain like a scorpion sting and yet with clothes wrapped Garhwalis pluck its leaves, boil and eat as vegetable. I experienced the sting of this bush. Once Baba and I were on the Sangam. He told me to wait near one bush and not to touch it. He left for bath. I stealthily peeped in. Baba was standing in the river and wiping his body with gamcha. He was in his nature’s suit. I returned to the bush and whiled away time.  After some time out of curiosity I touched the leaves of the bush. It gave sting like that of a scorpion and I shrieked. Baba rushed and laughed heartily. He told to put wet mud on it. It alleviated pain. I was astounded to see his knowledge of the Himalayan flora. He told locally it is called ‘Bichhu ka zad or pauda’ It left indelible mark on my memory. Very queer things are in nature.  In the evening it rained. I had my dinner and sprawled on bed.

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