Life
GIRISHCHANDRA GHOSH
Thus far we have followed the sequence of the unfoldment of the Mother’s personality from her own point of view. We must now follow by stages the gradual comprehension of that personality from the devotees’ angle of vision. Most of them did not accept her as the Universal Mother from the very beginning of their discipleship. They knew her only as the wife of their guru, and so their love, respect, and responsibility towards her were based on that relationship. As a proof of this we may say that one day a young man went to the drawing room of Sri Kalipada Ghosh, a staunch follower of the Master, and finding no picture of the Mother there asked for the reason. As an answer Kalipada saluted the picture of the Master with folded hands and said, ‘He is, indeed, our father, and he is our mother.’ Not satisfied with such an explanation, the young man spoke to Girishchandra Ghosh, the well-known actor-dramatist and devotee. The latter said, ‘Did we ourselves recognize her in earlier days? It was Niranjan who opened our eyes.’ The outspoken Swami Niranjanananda not only accepted the Mother as divine, but also openly preached her divinity among the devotees without any reserve. The other world-renouncing young men recognized this divinity thereafter and offered her their hearts’ adoration, but even so they were not so aggressive in propagating their belief. Niranjanananda was of a different temperament; the light he had, he would not hide under a bushel. As a result of this, Girish Babu and others got a faint glimpse of her greatness.
The Master once declared that Girish’s faith was more than overflowing.1 Along with others, Girish had known the Mother as his guru’s wife; but from the day he knew her as divine, his reverence for her blazed into white heat. The following incident gives a little insight into his mental make-up at this time. His second wife was still alive. One evening Girish was sauntering on his roof with his wife, while on the roof of Balaram Babu’s house, the Holy Mother was taking the air. Girish’s wife recognized the Mother and said to her husband, ‘Look there, the Mother is strolling on the roof of yonder house.’ Girish turned his back to that roof saying, ‘No, no, mine are sinful eyes; I shan’t thus look at her stealthily,’ and climbed down. The Mother came to know of this later from Girish Babu’s wife.
Many believe that it was to the exceptional good fortune of this wife that Girish owed his fame, his wealth, and the grace of the Master. He had two daughters and one son through her. But when she fell ill and expired (26th December, 1888) soon after the birth of her son, Girish found himself quite forlorn. He had relinquished in favour of the Master all his ideas of personal agency even in his own activities, and so he would not even lament for his wife. That would have implied a lack of faith in Providence. And yet the pang of separation was there. To forget this he now threw himself earnestly into the study of mathematics and the upbringing of his child.
There was another reason for this. He had once entreated the Master to be born as his son. The Master had then turned down the request. And yet when this child was born after the Master had left this world, Girish was firmly convinced that the Master had really answered his earnest prayer and blessed him by being born in his house. He, therefore, took the utmost care of the boy whose appearance and deportment so fascinated and attracted visitors that they could not resist the temptation of taking him in their arms and kissing him And whenever the Holy Mother happened to come to this house, the boy rejoiced in sitting on her lap.
When the Mother was staying at Sourindra Thakur’s house at Baranagore at the end of 1890, the great dramatist went there with the boy, taken there perhaps by Swami Niranjanananda. This incident had a certain bearing on the Mother’s life. For though her divinity was recognized by a limited number of lay devotees like Master Mahashaya, her glory came to be openly avowed by all the devotees only after Girishchandra had done so. Earlier than that the Mother enforced her privacy so strictly that devotees could not see her, and had to satisfy themselves by saluting her in their own minds.
Girish’s son, then in his third year, had not quite learned to speak and expressed himself through gestures. That day, at Sourindra Thakur’s house, the boy became anxious to see the Mother who was upstairs. He pointed towards her room and went on saying ‘ooh, ooh’. At first none understood him; but at last one of the Mother’s attendants guessed his meaning and carried him upstairs. The boy saluted the Mother by falling at her feet, and coming down pressed his father with his usual gestures to go up. At this Girish burst out crying, ‘O my dear, how can I possibly go to see the Holy Mother; for I am veritably a great sinner.’ But as the boy was insistent, Girishchandra at last took him up in his arms and walked into the Mother’s room, shaking and trembling all over. Falling at her feet with tearful eyes and a voice choked with emotion, he said, ‘Mother, it is because of this child that I have had now a glimpse of your blessed feet. ’
The boy did not live very long; he died at the age of three. Girish went to Jayrambati some time later in 1891 in search of some consolation, and spent a few months there on the advice of Swami Niranjanananda who accompanied him as his friend and philosopher. With them went Swamis Subodhananda, Nirbhayananda, and Bodhananda, with a cook and a servant. They went by way of Burdwan, Uchalan, and Kamarpukur. At Jayrambati, Girish took his bath in a pond and went straightway to salute the Mother in his wet clothes. He was then full of thoughts of her and his whole frame quivered with emotion. As he looked up after touching the Mother’s feet with his head, he saw her face for the first time in his life and exclaimed within himself with extreme surprise, ‘Hey-day! It is you to be sure, Mother!’ This astonishment was derived from an earlier crisis in his life. Once, young Girish, then in the grip of cholera and apparently without hope of recovery, had a glimpse of a radiant motherly figure putting some prasada into his mouth saying, ‘Eat’. She wore a cloth with broad red borders; her whole being was effulgent with a heavenly light and the face looked wonderfully lit up by a benign smile. The prasada was very tasteful. When he woke up the taste was still on his tongue. He recovered very soon; but the vivid dream remained ever fresh in his mind. Today he recognized that dream-face in the Mother’s, so exactly alike were the two. And today, after such a long lapse of time, he knew that it was this divine Mother who had been protecting him all along. Yet, to make assurance doubly sure, he inquired through another, for the Mother would not speak directly to him, whether she had revealed herself to him in this way on any previous occasion. The Mother admitted of having done so. Girish’s doubts were not still laid at rest. Therefore, he asked her again on another occasion, ‘What kind of a mother are you?’ ‘I am your true mother,’ replied the
Mother without a moment’s hesitation, ‘a mother not by virtue of being your guru’s wife, nor because of, any assumed relationship, nor by way of empty talk, but truly the mother. ’
After spending two weeks there, all except Girishchandra, Niranjanananda, and the servants, returned to Calcutta. The great poet enjoyed immensely that long stay in the village. Freed from the bustle of the city and its unendurable constraints and never-ending worries, he lived a care-free life. He walked in the fields with the farmers, took plenty of prasada sitting near the Mother, and remained ever engaged in the thoughts and talks of the Master. In the evening he sat in the open meadow enjoying the beauty of the setting sun. The villagers were quick in discovering that he was the well-known actor-dramatist Girishchandra Ghosh of Calcutta; and hence they wanted to hear from his mouth the songs composed by himself. He argued that though he was a composer, he was not a singer. Nevertheless, the villagers remained importunate, and Girish had to satisfy their curiosity. The Mother overheard him very often and learnt some of the tunes. In later days, she sang the following lines from Girishchandra for the benefit of her inquisitive sons:
(Gopala) turns back and looks, as
he crawls away, lest the queen
(Yashoda, his mother) should catch hold of him.
The queen says, ‘hold’, ‘hold’ in fun, and Gopala crawls further away.
And one day, Haridas Vairagi of Desra came and sang to the tune of his violin:
What a delightful news it is, O Uma (dear daughter)!
(Dear me!) I hear from people—say if this is true, O Siva’s wife—
That you have got the name Annapurna at Banaras… (see also p. 169.)
On hearing this song, so reminiscent of the life of the Holy Mother, neither
Girish and others in the outer apartment, nor the Mother inside, could check their tears.
At Jayrambati, Girish one day entered into a vehement debate with uncle Kali as to whether the Mother was divine or not. Uncle knew her only as his sister; and this was nothing untoward for him; for the Puranas tell us that though the people of the Yadu tribe mixed freely with Krishna during play and at the time of eating, yet they could not recognize him as God. On the other hand, Girishchundra’s faith was not to be shaken. ‘You call my sister’, argued uncle Kali, ‘Mother of the Universe, Creatrix of the World, and what not! Though we were born of the same womb, I don’t, forsooth, perceive a bit of it.’ ‘What do you mean?’ demanded Girish in a firm and deep voice, ‘You are a mere village brahmin’s son; you have forsaken your priestly duties of performing sacrifices, reading, and teaching, and are spending your life in farming. If one should promise you a bull, you will be dancing attendance on the man for at least six months. Is it then impossible for the Great Source of all delusion to keep you labouring under the notion that she is merely your sister, for the whole of your life? Go, and if you want freedom here and hereafter, take refuge at the Mother’s feet at once. I say, go!’ There was a force in what he said which impelled uncle Kali to go to the
Mother and seek refuge at her feet just as Girish had suggested. But the Mother protested saying, ‘O dear Kali, I am evermore the same sister. What’s this you are doing now?’ Uncle Kali, therefore, returned with his earlier conviction. But Girish was not so easily to be put off. He tried to send Kali to the Mother again. But uncle Kali refused to go to her.
The Mother’s care and affection for Girish was unbounded. Milk was not easily available in that village, but as Girish could not do without his early morning tea, the Mother searched the village through for a little quantity of milk. Girish also noticed that his bed-sheet was always white as snow. He did not know who kept it so clean. At last he found the Mother washing it with soap at the pond. The Mother also cooked delicious dishes for him and sat by him and saw to it that he was fully satisfied.
But if she was all affection for him, she was not blind to his shortcomings. Girish had had such bitter experiences of the world that he threatened to renounce everything. But the Mother did not approve. Girish then resorted to the logical and vehement reasoning of which his keen intellect and poetic tongue were capable, and which was calculated to sweep anyone off his feet. But the Mother successfully withstood all such argumentation, till at last Girish had to admit defeat and give up his idea.
Girish took the opportunity to spend some days at the birthplace of the Master. The Mother also went there with the party. The long association with the Holy Mother and the sacred places of Jayrambati and Kamarpukur brought the much-needed solace to Girish’s lacerated heart and he returned to Calcutta to resume his literary work with fresh vigour and a clearer spiritual outlook.
Girishchandra was not only a keen observer whose poetic eyes drew in the pictures of all pure and fine things and kept them ever deposited in his heart, but also when the occasion arose, he could reproduce them vividly in words for the edification, delectation, and inspiration of others. When the Mother lived on the godown of the Sarkarbari Lane in Baghbazar (1896), Girish was a frequent visitor and came to salute the Mother. On the day that the Mother was leaving for Jayrambati (after the worship of Kali) the great poet came, and silently went up with Swami Yogananda. The others, who had gathered there, followed them Girish prostrated himself before the Mother and said with folded hands, ‘Mother, when I come to you I feel like a little child coming to its own mother. Had I been a ‘grown-up’ son, I would have served my mother. But it is quite different here; you serve us and we do not serve you. You are going to Jayrambati to serve the people, even by cooking food for others in the village kitchen. How can I serve you, and what do I know about serving the Mother?’ His voice became choked and his whole face flushed with emotion as he spoke. At last checking himself a little and turning to the others who stood behind him, he said, ‘It is difficult for human beings to believe that God can incarnate in a human form like our own. Can you realize that you are standing before the Mother of the Universe in the form of a village woman? Yet she is the Mother of the Universe—Maha-maya. Maha-Sakti —appearing on the earth for the salvation of all creatures and at the same time exemplifying the ideal of true motherhood.’ The words were sublime, inspiring, and calculated to electrify the atmosphere. All listened with rapt attention, and then they followed the Mother to the railway station to bid her a respectful farewell.
Girish Babu at first accepted the Mother as his guru’s wife, and then as Mother and Divinity. After close observation and acquaintance he not only came to entertain for her a deep devotion that impelled him to cry from the housetop her glory, but he also developed the strength of an innocent mind that enabled him to behave towards her like a guileless child. His solicitude for the Mother’s comfort was so great that she said, ‘He at one time defrayed all my expenses for a year and a half.
How could he make a large contribution? He was never a rich man. ’ Here is another instance of his loving devotion to the Mother. The Mother once returned from home, after a long time, accompanied by Golap-Ma and Yogin-Ma. The train was to have reached Howrah station from Vishnupur in the morning; and so Swami Brahmananda suggested to Swami Premananda that they might go to the station to convey their respects to her. Swami Premananda readily agreed. But at Howrah, the train was late by three hours. The two Swamis were in a fix for a little while, for the problem of transport between Belur and Howrah in those days was a difficult one. Besides, it was a summer day, and all, including the two Swamis, who had come to meet the Mother, felt uncomfortable. Still, undaunted they decided to stay on. The train steamed in long after the scheduled time and Golap-Ma and Yogin-Ma carefully helped the Mother to get down from the train. But as soon as Golap-Ma’s eyes fell on the two Swamis, she went to Swami Brahmananda and reproved him saying, ‘Well, Maharaj, have you lost your senses? The Mother has travelled through this grueling heat; and now if even you create a muddle by coming here to salute her, then what should I say of the others?’ The innocent Swami felt guilty and dared not go a step forward. Seeing him in such a plight, the others naturally stood where they were. The Mother was taken to Baghbazar. The two Swamis now decided that though salutation was thus ruled out, it was quite in the fitness of things for them to follow the Mother to see if adequate arrangements were made for her there. So they got into a carriage and arrived at the Baghbazar house where they sat quietly in a room below. Just then Girish came to the Mother. He was scantily dressed and the half shirt that covered his body was wet with perspiration. Finding the two Swamis there, he made inquiries about the Mother. Though he was talking in a low voice, Golap-Ma heard him and hurried down and began haranguing them again as she had done at the station. But unfortunately the scene had now changed and the chief character now on the stage was no longer Swami Brahmananda but Girishchandra Ghosh. And just as Golap-Ma fired her shots at him saying, ‘I am like a duck in thunder at this wonderful devotion of Girish Ghosh. I say, Girish Babu, you like to see the Mother forsooth! But the Mother has come through this gruelling heat, and when it is but reasonable for her to take a little rest, you come even here to pester her;’ Girish turned a deaf ear to all this, and at once started ascending the stairs calling to the two Swamis, ‘Come, come, Maharaj (Brahmananda), Baburam (Premananda), let us go to see the Mother.’ And as Golap-Ma repeated her vehement protest, Girish Babu looked back and snapped at her, ‘That shrew of a woman argues, indeed, that I have come to pester the Mother; whereas the Mother would feel relieved after seeing the faces of her sons after such a long absence.’ They all went up. The Mother received them cordially and blessed them. In the meantime Golap-Ma too came up and complained with tearful eyes, ‘To think that Girish Babu should talk to me thus!’ The Mother turned to her and said, ‘Have I not warned you off and on not to be critical of my sons?’ Girish Babu went down after saluting the Mother like a victor.
The time for the Durga worship of 1907 was drawing near. Girish and his sister Dakshina requested the Mother, then at Jayrambati, to grace the occasion with her presence at their house, and give it an added charm. They offered to bear all the expenses of her journey. The Mother was then in bad health owing to malaria, but she could not resist the call of such devout souls. So arrangements were made for the journey to Calcutta. On the appointed day she started with Radhu and Radhu’s mother. On reaching Vishnupur she found Master Mahashaya and Lalit Chatterji waiting there for them with all arrangements for their food and comfort. At that time, Calcutta was in the grip of a communal trouble and the town was without any light at night. So they had advanced to Vishnupur to be sure of her safe journey. The whole party boarded the train after food and reached Howrah after nightfall. Lalit Babu’s carriage was ready at the station. The Mother and her relatives entered it while others sat or stood on the coach-box and the footboards and thus conducted her safely to Balaram’s house where she was to stay.
Girish’s sister came the next day and saluting the Mother said that by condescending to come she had solved a problem, for Girish was sulky and argued that since the worship would be a meaningless pageant in the Mother’s absence, he would not have it that year unless she came.
The worship commenced after a few days, the initial ceremonies being held in the Mother’s presence. At the house of Balaram Babu, again, began a second worship. From early morning of the first day of worship began pouring in a stream of devotees with flowers in their hands to be offered at the feet of the Mother, which she accepted sitting quietly for hours together. Then she was requested to go to Girishchandra’s house, where she stayed till the end of the day’s worship.
On the second day of the celebration also the Mother accepted the worship of the devotees in the houses of Balaram and Girish. She was not well then; still she sat the whole time, covering herself with a cotton sheet. She disappointed none. But the strain of the two consecutive days made her so ill that it was decided that she would not be present at night at the most important worship at the moment of the juncture of the eighth and ninth days of the moon, when the demon Mahisha was killed by the Goddess. That was a sore disappointment to them all and terribly depressing for Girish. But as the blessed moment approached the Mother decided to witness the worship and with the women devotees, she walked to the backdoor of Girish’s house, where she knocked and announced, ‘Here I am’ The news spread with electric speed and created fresh enthusiasm. The maidservant opened the door. Girish heard with the greatest delight that the living Divine Mother was at his door to accept his worship, notwithstanding all personal inconveniences. A little while ago he had been telling his friends in the drawing-room upstairs that his going down to the place of worship was vain inasmuch as the Mother would not be there. Now at the happy news he said with a choked voice and gasping breath, ‘I thought that my worship had come to nought, and just now the Mother knocks at the door and announces, “Here I am”.’ They all hurried down. As the Mother stood at the north-west corner fixing her eyes on the image of the Goddess, the devotees approached her and offered handfuls of flowers at her feet. The third day’s worship too passed off merrily. All the three days the Mother accepted the flower offerings of all her children, known or unknown, not excepting even the actors and actresses of Girish’s theatrical troupe.
After the celebration, the Mother was eager to return home; but the devotees would not allow her before the worship of Kali. Accordingly, she prolonged her stay and left Calcutta on the 24th of Karlika (10th November). She went home via Vishnupur. The people at Jayrambati were informed well in advance to keep ready a palanquin at Desra. But the uncles did nothing, and as a consequence the Mother and her companions had great difficulty in walking home in a dark night. We have already narrated this event in the chapter ‘A Self-imposed Limitation’. The Mother’s health was bad at that time, and yet she had to be busy about her brothers’ household duties. Hence the Calcutta devotees sent Golap-Ma and Kusumkumari with her. Golap-Ma left for Calcutta when the Mother had recovered a little.
1. Literally, ‘five annas over and above five quarters of a rupee.’ Four quarters make a rupee; five quarters make it more than enough; and five annas addeu to them make it more than over-sufficient.
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