The Cauliflower (22 page)

Uncle still loves to make ornate flower arrangements and to decorate the Radha-Govinda image at the temple with them. He also prays to the Goddess that she will permit him to have Krishna as his “spiritual husband.” Perhaps the Goddess is jealous of losing her favorite child's exclusive attention (in the way a Mother can sometimes be jealous of sharing her favorite son with a new daughter-in-law), because for some reason this part of Uncle's
sadhana
is unbearably slow, and Uncle is becoming perfectly disconsolate. He is lovelorn. It is so strong, this loneliness of Uncle's, that it has started to remind me of many years ago when Uncle first pined for the love of the Divine Mother. He is refusing his food. He cannot sleep. That burning sensation is back once more. He moans and wails and claws at his clothes. But he does so in a most beguiling and feminine manner. Uncle cries like a girl. He says that the bones in his body seem all disconnected with unrequited love. He finds it difficult to move. He is disjointed. He can hardly walk, only just totter around and then swoon.

I have a new wife at home and suddenly it feels as though I have a new wife here at the Dakshineswar Kali Temple. But she is a bad wife. The worst wife. She is a mad wife. She is perfectly demented.

Oh, how am I possibly to make sense of Uncle's
sadhana
? How many different courses can this unpredictable river run? How many ways can one man hope to see God? Why is Uncle not simply contented with all of the great bounty he has earned so far? How can Uncle choose to put us through such torture just when it finally seems like things are starting to go so well for us all? I wish I could understand it! I just wish I could make some sense—however small—of the great and most perplexing mystery of Uncle!

“Why practice so hard?            [
you may ask?
]

I must live an austere life

As an example!”

[
duh!
]

…

“If you undertake

A
fraction
of what I do

Then you will see God!”

“Keep focused on God.

And public opinion?

Ha! Just spit on it!”

A chapter of accidents:

(Oh, all right. Let's just call it “a page or two of accidents.”)

1865 (approximately)

Sri Ramakrishna enters a sudden and unexpected state of ecstasy and inadvertently topples into a smoldering pan of charcoal. He has to be pulled out, still unconscious. His hand is badly burned and it takes several months to heal.

Sometime later
 …

In the middle of the night Sri Ramakrishna is suddenly possessed by the idea that he is Radha and goes to the Rani's beautiful flower gardens to pick roses for her beloved Krishna. While so doing he unexpectedly enters
samadhi
(ecstasy). He is eventually found by a watchman, still unconscious, tangled up in the bushes, bruised, and covered in scratches.

Sometime later
 …

While walking to the Kali Temple, Sri Ramakrishna enters a sudden and unexpected state of ecstasy and collapses to the ground, his arm badly twisted under the deadweight of his torso. The arm is broken. The
guru
is very confused when he eventually regains consciousness. His wrist is carefully bandaged, but the saint persists in pulling the bandages off and wailing like a toddler. He can't understand this injury. Why would the Goddess allow something so dreadful to happen to her faithful servant? He walks around, showing his broken wrist to anyone who will take an interest, and—much to his long-suffering devotee's consternation—plaintively asks if they know how to cure it. He remains for what seems like an inordinately long duration in the mood of an utterly forlorn and betrayed infant.

Sometime later
 …

One morning everyone suddenly realizes that Sri Ramakrishna is missing in action. A search party is sent out, but the
guru
is not found. Ramakrishna's wife, Sarada Devi, flies into a terrible panic. She is convinced that Sri Ramakrishna has entered an unexpected state of ecstasy while standing by one of the temple
ghat
s and has fallen into the Ganga and drowned.

People are growing increasingly convinced of this, and are, quite naturally, deeply traumatized, when the saint is finally discovered in the dense thicket beyond the
panchavati
, cheerfully meditating under a spiky bush, the bottom of his tender feet cut to ribbons by thorns.

And all too often
 …

Visits to the museum, the circus, the theater, the park, et cetera are destroyed when the excited
Paramahamsa
inadvertently enters a state of ecstasy and has to be carried—limp and insensible—back to his hired carriage and promptly driven home. Everything reminds the
Paramahamsa
of God. God sends the
Paramahamsa
into ecstasy.

Sometimes the
guru
feels the odd moment of
pique
that the Goddess is always so determined to cut short his measure of earthly enjoyment. It's so irritating that he never makes it as far as the giraffe enclosure at the zoo because the lion always calls to his mind an image of the Goddess Durga (often depicted in Hindu art riding a lion as her steed), and then …

Ooops!
There he goes! Quickly! Catch him, Hriday!

Aw. Just when everyone was starting to have themselves a little bit of fun, horrid old God felt the need to elbow his way in and spoil it all.

:(

Samadhi:

We call it a gift …

But when you think about it,

Isn't it a curse?

1864. Several pages of lost and quite badly water-damaged jottings by an amateur anthropologist:

… of two Bengali Hindoos and their curious activities at the Dakshineswar “Kali” Temple during the course of several weeks in the summer of 1864. While my Hindi is excellent, I'm afraid that my Bengali is—at best—rudimentary, and both subjects are fluent in

… moonfaced and rather charming young man who is often addressed as “Sri” Ramakrishna and is a permanent resident at the temple, where he lives in a large corner room of the owner's private house (or
kuthi)
.“Sri” Ramakrishna—henceforth SR—is very highly regarded by the wealthy temple owner (a broad, amiable, giant-mustachioed gentleman), to the extent of having his own personal servant.

&

(2) An older monk from … (not yet certain), who is much less social and gregarious than SR and is known by the name of Jatadhari. Jatadhari is an itinerant
sannyasi
who recently visited the temple to attend a lavish festival being held there (see notes re:
Annameru
)
. He has stayed on, although plainly a very quiet and antisocial character by nature, presumably due to his having recently established a relationship with the aforementioned SR.

It should probably be noted that SR is often to be seen worshipping the statue of the temple goddess “Kali” while dressed in women's clothing. He sings and fans the statue with a special “chamara” (or blond-colored yak-tail whisk). When SR dresses as a woman—in
sari
and bodice, wig and veil—he does so quite convincingly. Jatadhari wears the traditional ocher cloth of a monk. Jatadhari seems to find nothing strange in SR's dressing as a woman (although I have noticed that several of the temple officials and some of the other temple priests find the presence of SR somewhat grating…. It is entirely possible that the temple owner has hired the servant as a kind of bodyguard for his unconventional protégé). SR likes to

… Jatadhari which appears to be predicated on Jatadhari's obsessive regard for a pendant (or amulet) he wears of the Hindoo god Rama as a child (they call him, in the child state, “Ramalala”). Jatadhari spends much of his day worshipping this pendant. From experience I know that the god Rama is generally worshipped with flowers, fruits, and buttermilk. Mondays and Saturdays are auspicious days of worship for this particular Hindoo god.

Nobody at the temple appears especially concerned by Jatadhari's activities aside from SR who seems to have taken a special interest in him.

At first this interest consisted in SR sitting a short distance away from Jatadhari and witnessing his worship in a respectful manner.

It soon became clear during the course of several days, however, that SR had observed something special about Jatadhari's worship (I am uncertain of what this may be—possibly just his great application and quiet yet intense focus on his chosen deity).

… respectful observation, SR acquired a number of essential provisions (he seems to have unlimited access to the temple stores) to aid Jatadhari in his worship. The monk was evidently very pleased by SR's interest in his activities

… prone to entering what the Hindoos like to call a “state of ecstasy” (“samadhi”). When this happens his mouth smiles, his eyes roll back in his skull, and he will suddenly lose all

… approached Jatadhari and asked if he might be initiated by the monk into his very particular form of worship (initiation in this instance would be by dint of the acquisition of a special
mantra
, i.e., a
Sanskrit
sound, word, or syllable which is held by the Hindoos to contain its own intrinsic spiritual power). Jatadhari seemed perfectly happy to oblige him (I did not actually observe the initiation ceremony). Following his initiation SR would sit, utterly still, for hour after hour, just gazing at the amulet. His bodyguard would call him for meals but SR just ignored his increasingly frustrated appeals

… unkempt, the wig sitting rather lopsidedly on his head. It soon became evident that SR had lost all ability to close his eyes. I approached him at one point and asked, in Hindi, if he would close his eyes for me. He seemed to understand what I was saying but his eyes were unblinking. I blinked my own eyes at him, repeatedly, but he just shook his head and laughed. He tried to force his eyes shut with his fingers but he could not. He offered me a chance to try for myself and I did. The eyes were

… closer inspection that they were actually caring for an imaginary child, which both men are able to see running around them.

It should be noted that Jatadhari is very patient with the child, very quiet around it (he is eager not to draw attention to himself in this regard), but SR—the more exuberant personality—seems to find the child quite exasperating. Yesterday afternoon I witnessed SR trying to take his leave of the child (the child is typically to be found in or around the general location of Jatadhari's special amulet). The child refused to allow SR to take his leave of it. From SR's behavior it appeared to be repeatedly calling him back to spend time with it. On one occasion the child pulled at his hair and SR yelled furiously. On another occasion the imaginary child went running toward the Hooghly River and both men were to be seen bounding after it, presumably to stop it from

Sri Ramakrishna says:

“It's good to question!

Skepticism is a path

To realize God.”

Five strange incidents involving the Master's first “Supplier of Provisions,” Mathur Nath Biswas:

1)    1866, approximately

Mathur Nath Biswas is aware of the fact that Sri Ramakrishna is fully capable of transmitting the state of ecstasy (which the saint experiences regularly) merely by dint of the lightest of touches. He is not an especially spiritual man—and cheerfully admits as much—but is very eager to experience this seemingly magical state, so he asks Sri Ramakrishna to touch him and let him feel it. Sri Ramakrishna tries to persuade Mathur that this is not a wise idea. The Master instinctively knows which types of devotion are most beneficial to his individual devotees. (In Mathur's case, his easiest path to God is through loyal service to his
guru
, i.e., Sri Ramakrishna himself.…

“I have cooked the food

I have laid it on a plate

Just eat and enjoy!”)

But Mathur (a man who greatly appreciates his earthly pleasures—so why not now heavenly ones to boot?) doggedly persists. The Master diligently tries to fob Mathur off with his stock response, i.e., that he has no personal power to transform anyone at will—that only the Divine Mother has this power, and he acts solely through her. Still, Mathur nags away at Sri Ramakrishna until eventually the saint promises to ask the Mother and see what she decides. Mathur goes home, mollified.

A couple of days later, Mathur suddenly experiences the state of
bhava samadhi
(a lower state of ecstasy in which the individual still retains some measure of normal consciousness). He finds the experience devastating. He is unable to get anything done, make any decisions. He bursts into tears, constantly. His heart pounds. After three days trapped in this joyful hell he sends for Sri Ramakrishna, collapses to the ground in front of him, and clasps both of his feet. He wants the Master to take away this state of ecstasy. He cannot endure it. His life has become completely unmanageable.

“But you begged me for this, Mathur!” Sri Ramakrishna exclaims.

“I know, I
know
, but my life is in ruins!” Mathur bleats. “Ecstasy suits
you
, Father. But it's not
right
for the rest of us. Just take it away, take it away,
please
!”

Sri Ramakrishna—after a few seconds of delicious procrastination—lightly touches Mathur's chest with his hand and Mathur instantly returns to his normal, ebullient, generous, and unapologetically worldly self once more.

Phew!