An Idyl in South India
"You are the first Westerner, Dick, ever to enter that shrine. Many others have tried in vain." At my words Mr. Wright looked startled, then pleased. We had just left the beautiful Chamundi Temple in the hills overlooking Mysore in southern India. There we had bowed before the gold and silver altars of the Goddess Chamundi, patron deity of the Mysore ruling family. "As a souvenir of the unique honor," Mr. Wright said, carefully wrapping a few rose petals, "I will always preserve these petals, blessed by the priest with rose water."
My companion and I¹ were spending the month of November 1935, as guests of the State of Mysore. The Maharaja's² heir, H.H. the Yuvaraja, Sri Kanteerava Narasimharaja Wadiyar, had invited my secretary and me to visit his enlightened and progressive realm. During the past fortnight I had addressed thousands of citizens and students in Mysore City at the Town Hall, the Maharaja's College, the University Medical School; and three mass meetings in Bangalore at the National High School, the Intermediate College, and Chetty Town Hall in which three thousand persons had assembled.
Whether the eager listeners had been able to credit the glowing picture I drew of America, I know not; but the applause had always been loudest when I spoke of the mutual benefits to be derived from exchange of the best features of East and West. Mr. Wright and I were now relaxing in the tropical peace. His travel diary contains the following account of his impressions of Mysore: "Many rapturous moments have been spent in gazing, almost absentmindedly, at the ever changing canvas of God stretched across the firmament, for His touch alone is able to produce colors that vibrate with the freshness of life. That youth of colors is lost when man tries to imitate with mere pigments, for the Lord resorts to a more simple and effective medium — neither oils nor pigments but mere rays of light. He tosses a splash of light here, and it reflects red; He waves the brush again and the color blends gradually into orange and gold; then with a piercing thrust He stabs the clouds with a streak of purple that leaves a ringlet or fringe of red oozing out of the wound; and so, on and on He plays, night and morning alike, ever changing, ever new, ever fresh; no duplicates, no patterns or colors just the same. The beauty of the change in India from day to night, and from night to day, is beyond compare elsewhere; often the sky looks as if God had taken all the colors in His kit and had given them one mighty kaleidoscopic toss into the heavens.
"I must relate the splendor of a twilight visit to the huge Krishnaraja Sagar Dam,² twelve miles outside Mysore City. Yoganandaji and I boarded a small bus, and, with a small boy as official cranker or battery substitute, started off over a smooth dirt road just as the sun was setting, squashing on the horizon like an overripe tomato. "Our journey led past the ever present square rice fields, through a grove of comforting banyan trees, in between towering coconut palms; nearly everywhere vegetation was as thick as in a jungle. Approaching the crest of a hill, we beheld an immense artificial lake, reflecting the stars and a fringe of palms and other trees, and surrounded by lovely terraced gardens and rows of electric lights.
"Below the brink of the dam we saw a dazzling spectacle: colored beams playing on geyserlike fountains that resembled outpourings of brilliant inks — gorgeous blue, red, green, and yellow waterfalls; and majestic stone elephants spouting water. The dam (whose lighted fountains reminded me of those at the 1933 World's Fair in Chicago) is modernly outstanding in this ancient land of paddy fields and simple people. The Indians have given us such a loving welcome that I fear it will take more than my strength to bring Yoganandaji back to America.
"Another rare privilege — my first elephant ride. Yesterday the Yuvaraja invited us to his summer palace to enjoy a ride on one of his elephants, an enormous beast. I mounted a ladder provided to climb aloft to the howdah or saddle, which is silk-cushioned and boxlike; and then for a rolling, tossing, heaving, and swaying down into a gully — too much thrilled to worry or exclaim, but hanging on for dear life!" Southern India, rich with historical and archaeological remains, is a land of definite and yet indefinable charm. To the north of Mysore is Hyderabad, a picturesque plateau cut by the mighty Godavari River. Broad fertile plains, the lovely Nilgiris or "Blue Mountains," other areas with barren hills of limestone or granite. Hyderabad history is a long, colorful story, starting three thousand years ago under the Andhra kings and continuing under Hindu dynasties until A.D. 1294, when the region passed to a line of Moslem rulers.
The most breathtaking display of architecture, sculpture, and painting in all India is found at Hyderabad in the ancient rock-sculptured caves of Ellora and Ajanta. The Kailasa at Ellora, a huge monolithic temple, possesses carved figures of gods, men, and beasts in the stupendous proportions of a Michelangelo. Ajanta is the site of twenty-five monasteries and five cathedrals, all rock excavations supported by tremendous frescoed pillars on which artists and sculptors have immortalized their genius.
Hyderabad City is graced by Osmania University and by the imposing Mecca Masjid Mosque in which ten thousand Moslems assemble for prayer. Mysore State, three thousand feet above sea level, abounds in dense tropical forests: the home of wild elephants, bison, bears, panthers, and tigers. The two chief cities, Bangalore and Mysore, are clean and attractive, with many beautiful parks and public gardens. Hindu architecture and sculpture achieved their highest perfection in Mysore under the patronage of Hindu kings from the eleventh to the fifteenth century. The temple at Belur, an eleventh-century masterpiece completed during the reign of King Vishnuvardhana, is unsurpassed in the world for delicacy of detail and exuberant imagery.
The rock edicts found in northern Mysore date from the third century B.C. They illuminate the memory of King Asoka,² whose vast empire included India, Afghanistan, and Baluchistan. Inscribed in various dialects, Asoka's "sermons in stone" bear witness to the widespread literacy of his day. Rock Edict XIII denounces wars: "Consider nothing as true conquest save that of religion." Rock Edict X declares that a king's true glory depends on the moral progress he aids his people in attaining. Rock Edict XI defines "the true gift" to be, not goods, but Good — the spreading of truth. On Rock Edict VI the beloved emperor invites his subjects to confer with him on public business "at any hour of the day or night," adding that by faithful discharge of his kingly duties he was thus "obtaining his own release from the debt he owed his fellowmen."
Asoka was a grandson of the formidable Chandragupta Maurya, who destroyed the garrisons left in India by Alexander the Great and who in 305 B.C. defeated the invading Macedonian army of Seleucus. Chandragupta then received at his court in Pataliputra² the Greek ambassador Megasthenes, who has left us descriptions of the happy and enterprising India of his day. In 298 B.C. the victorious Chandragupta handed over the reins of India's government to his son. Traveling to South India, Chandragupta spent the last twelve years of his life as a penniless ascetic, seeking Self-realization in a rocky cave in Sravanabelagola, now a Mysore shrine. The same region boasts the world's largest monolithic statue, carved out of an immense boulder by the Jains in A.D. 983 to honor the sage Gomateswara.
Interesting stories have been minutely recorded by Greek historians and others who accompanied or followed after Alexander in his expedition to India. The narratives of Arrian, Diodoros, Plutarch, and Strabo the geographer have been translated by Dr. J. W. McCrindle⁶ to throw a shaft of light on ancient India. The most admirable feature of Alexander's unsuccessful invasion was the deep interest he displayed in Hindu philosophy and in the yogis and holy men whom he encountered from time to time and whose society he eagerly sought. Shortly after the Western warrior arrived in Taxila in northern India, he sent Onesikritos (a disciple of the Hellenic school of Diogenes) to fetch a great sannyasi of Taxila, Dandamis.
"Hail to thee, O teacher of Brahmins!" Onesikritos said after seeking out Dandamis in his forest retreat. "The son of the mighty God Zeus, being Alexander who is the Sovereign Lord of all men, asks you to go to him. If you comply, he will reward you with great gifts; if you refuse, he will cut off your head!" The yogi received calmly this fairly compulsive invitation, and "did not so much as lift up his head from his couch of leaves."
"I also am a son of Zeus, if Alexander be such," he commented. "I want nothing that is Alexander's, for I am content with what I have, while I see that he wanders with his men over sea and land for no advantage, and is never coming to an end of his wanderings. "Go and tell Alexander that God the Supreme King is never the Author of insolent wrong, but is the Creator of light, of peace, of life, of water, of the body of man and of souls; He receives all men when death sets them free, being then in no way subject to evil disease. He alone is the God of my homage, who abhors slaughter and instigates no wars.
"Alexander is no god, since he must taste of death," continued the sage in quiet scorn. "How can such as he be the world's master, when he has not yet seated himself on a throne of inner universal dominion? Neither as yet has he entered living into Hades, nor does he even know the course of the sun over the vast regions of this earth. Most nations have not so much as heard his name!"
After this chastisement — surely the most caustic ever sent to assail the ears of the "Lord of the World" — the sage added ironically, "If Alexander's present dominions be not capacious enough for his desires, let him cross the Ganges River; there he will find a country able to sustain all his men." "The gifts Alexander promises are useless to me," Dandamis went on. "The things I prize and find of real worth are trees, which are my shelter; blooming plants, which provide my daily food; and water, which assuages my thirst. Possessions amassed with anxious thought are wont to prove ruinous to those who gather them, causing only the sorrow and vexation that afflict all unenlightened men.
"As for me, I lie upon forest leaves, and, having nothing to guard, close my eyes in tranquil slumber; whereas, had I anything of worldly value, that burden would banish sleep. The earth supplies me with everything I need, even as a mother provides her child with milk. I go wherever I please, unencumbered by material cares. "Should Alexander cut off my head, he cannot also destroy my soul. My head, then silent, and my body, like a torn garment, will remain on the earth, from which their elements were taken. I then, becoming Spirit, shall ascend to God. He enclosed us all in flesh and put us on earth to prove whether, when here below, we shall live obedient to His ordinances; and He will require of us, when we depart hence, an account of our lives. He is the Judge of all wrongdoing; the groans of the oppressed ordain the punishment of the oppressor.
"Let Alexander terrify with threats men who wish for wealth and who dread death. Against the Brahmins his weapons are powerless; we neither love gold nor fear death. Go then and tell Alexander this: Dandamis has no need of aught that is yours, and therefore will not go to you; and, if you want anything from Dandamis, come you to him." Onesikritos duly conveyed the message; Alexander listened with close attention, and "felt a stronger desire than ever to see Dandamis; who, though old and naked, was the only antagonist in whom he, the conqueror of many nations, had met more than his match."
Alexander invited to Taxila a number of Brahmin ascetics noted for their skill in answering philosophical questions with pithy wisdom. An account of the verbal skirmish is given by Plutarch; Alexander himself framed all the questions. "Which be the more numerous, the living or the dead?" "The living, for the dead are not." "Which breeds the larger animals, the sea or the land?" "The land, for the sea is only a part of land."
"Which is the cleverest of beasts?" "That one with which man is not yet acquainted." (Man fears the unknown.) "Which existed first, the day or the night?" "The day was first by one day." This reply caused Alexander to betray surprise; the Brahmin added: "Impossible questions require impossible answers." "How best may a man make himself beloved?" "A man will be beloved if, possessed with great power, he still does not make himself feared."
"How may a man become a god?"⁸ "By doing that which it is impossible for a man to do." "Which is stronger, life or death?" "Life, because it bears so many evils." Alexander succeeded in taking out of India, as his teacher, a true yogi. This man was Kalyana (Swami Sphines), called "Kalanos" by the Greeks. The sage accompanied Alexander to Persia. On a stated day, at Susa in Persia, Kalanos gave up his aged body by entering a funeral pyre in view of the whole Macedonian army. The historians record the astonishment of the soldiers as they observed that the yogi had no fear of pain or death; he never once moved from his position as he was consumed in the flames. Before leaving for his cremation, Kalanos had embraced many of his close companions but had refrained from bidding farewell to Alexander, to whom the Hindu sage had merely remarked:
"I shall see you later in Babylon." Alexander left Persia and, a year later, died in Babylon. The prophecy had been the Indian guru's way of saying that he would be present with Alexander in life and death. The Greek historians have left us many vivid and inspiring pictures of Indian society. Hindu law, Arrian tells us, protects the people and "ordains that no one among them shall, under any circumstances, be a slave; but that, enjoying freedom themselves, they shall respect the equal right to it that all men possess."²
"The Indians," states another text, "neither put out money at usury, nor know how to borrow. It is contrary to established practice for the Indians to do or to suffer a wrong; therefore they neither make contracts nor require securities." Healing, we are told, was by simple and natural means. "Cures are effected rather by regulating diet than by the use of medicines. The remedies most esteemed are ointments and plasters. All others are considered to be in great measure pernicious." Engagement in war was restricted to the Kshatriyas or warrior caste. "Nor would an enemy, coming upon a husbandman at work on his land, do him any harm; for men of this class are regarded as public benefactors and are protected from all injury. The land, thus remaining unravaged and producing heavy crops, supplies the inhabitants with the requisites to make life enjoyable."
The ubiquitous religious shrines of Mysore are a constant reminder of the many great saints of South India. One of these masters, Thayumanavar, has left us the following challenging poem:
In the beautiful and fertile State of Travancore in the extreme south of India, where traffic is conveyed over rivers and canals, the Maharaja assumes every year a hereditary obligation to expiate the sin incurred by wars and the annexation in the distant past of several petty states to Travancore. For fifty-six days annually the Maharaja visits the temple thrice daily to hear Vedic hymns and recitations; the expiation ceremony ends with the lakshadipam or illumination of the temple by a hundred thousand lights.
Madras Presidency on the southeast coast of India contains the flat, spacious, sea-girt city of Madras, and Conjeeveram, the Golden City, capital site of the Pallava Dynasty whose kings ruled during the early centuries of the Christian era. In modern Madras Presidency the nonviolent ideals of Mahatma Gandhi have made great headway; the white distinguishing "Gandhi caps" are seen everywhere. In the south generally the Mahatma has effected many important temple reforms for "untouchables" as well as caste-system reforms.
The origin of the caste system, formulated by the great legislator Manu, was admirable. He saw clearly that men are distinguished by natural evolution into four great classes: those capable of offering service to society through their bodily labor (Sudras); those who serve through mentality, skill, agriculture, trade, commerce, business life in general (Vaisyas); those whose talents are administrative, executive, and protective — rulers and warriors (Kshatriyas); those of contemplative nature, spiritually inspired and inspiring (Brahmins). "Neither birth nor sacraments nor study nor ancestry can decide whether a person is twice-born (i.e., a Brahmin)," the Mahabharata declares, "character and conduct only can decide."¹⁰ Manu instructed society to show respect to its members insofar as they possessed wisdom, virtue, age, kinship or, lastly, wealth. Riches in Vedic India were always despised if they were hoarded or unavailable for charitable purposes. Ungenerous men of great wealth were assigned a low rank in society.
Serious evils arose when the caste system became hardened through the centuries into a hereditary halter. India, self-governing since 1947, is making slow but sure progress in restoring the ancient values of caste, based solely on natural qualification and not on birth. Every nation on earth has its own distinctive misery-producing karma to deal with and honorably remove. India, with her versatile and invulnerable spirit, is proving herself equal to the task of caste reformation.
So entrancing is southern India that Mr. Wright and I yearned to prolong our idyl. But time, in its immemorial rudeness, dealt us no courteous extensions. I was scheduled soon to address the concluding session of the Indian Philosophical Congress at Calcutta University. At the end of the visit to Mysore, I enjoyed a talk with Sir C. V. Raman, president of the Indian Academy of Sciences. This brilliant Hindu physicist was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1930 for the "Raman Effect," his important discovery in the diffusion of light.
Waving a reluctant farewell to a crowd of Madras students and friends, Mr. Wright and I set out on our travels. On the way we stopped before a little shrine sacred to the memory of Sadasiva Brahman,¹¹ in whose eighteenth-century life story miracles cluster thickly. A larger Sadasiva shrine at Nerur, erected by the Raja of Pudukkottai, is a pilgrimage spot that has witnessed many divine healings. The successive rulers of Pudukkottai have treasured as sacred the religious instructions that Sadasiva wrote in 1750 for the guidance of the reigning prince.
Many quaint stories of Sadasiva, a lovable and fully illumined master, are still current among South Indian villagers. Immersed one day in samadhi on a bank of the Kaveri River, Sadasiva was seen to be carried away by a sudden flood. Weeks later he was found buried deep beneath a mound of earth near Kodumudi in Coimbatore District. As the villagers' shovels struck his body, the saint rose and walked briskly away. Sadasiva became a muni (nonspeaking saint) after his guru had rebuked him for worsting in dialectical argument an elderly Vedanta scholar. "When will you, a youth, learn to hold your tongue?" the guru had remarked.
"With your blessings, even from this moment." Sadasiva's guru was Swami Sri Paramasivendra Saraswati, author of Daharavidya Prakasika and a profound commentary on Uttara Gita. Certain worldly men, affronted because the God-intoxicated Sadasiva was often to be seen dancing "without decorum" on the streets, carried their complaints to his learned guru. "Sir," they declared, "Sadasiva is no better than a madman." But Paramasivendra smiled joyfully. "Oh," he exclaimed, "if only others had such madness!"
Sadasiva's life was marked by many strange and beautiful manifestations of the Intervening Hand. Much seeming injustice there is in this world; but God's devotees can testify to countless instances of His immediate righteousness. One night Sadasiva, in samadhi, halted near the granary of a rich householder. Three servants, on the lookout for thieves, raised their sticks to strike the saint. Lo! their arms were immobilized. Like statues, their arms aloft, the trio stood in unique tableau until the departure of Sadasiva at dawn.
On another occasion the great master was roughly pressed into service by a passing foreman whose laborers were carrying fuel. The silent saint humbly bore his burden to the required destination and there placed his load on top of a huge pile. The whole heap of fuel at once burst into flames. Sadasiva, like Trailanga Swami, wore no cloth. One morning the nude yogi absentmindedly entered the tent of a Moslem chieftain. Two ladies screamed in alarm; the warrior dealt a savage sword thrust at Sadasiva, whose arm was severed. The master departed unconcernedly. Overcome by awe and remorse, the Moslem picked up the arm from the floor and followed Sadasiva. The yogi quietly inserted his arm into the bleeding stump. When the chieftain humbly asked for some spiritual instruction, Sadasiva wrote with his finger in the sands:
"Do not do what you want, and then you may do what you like." The Moslem was uplifted to a purified state of mind and understood the paradoxical advice to be a guide to soul freedom through mastery of the ego. So great was the spiritual impact of those few words that the warrior became a worthy disciple; his former haunts knew him no more. The village children once expressed a desire in Sadasiva's presence to see the Madura religious festival, 150 miles away. The yogi indicated to the little ones that they should touch his body. Lo! instantly the whole group was transported to Madura. The children wandered happily among the thousands of pilgrims. In a few hours the yogi brought his small charges home by his simple mode of transportation. The astonished parents listened to vivid tales about the procession of images in Madura, and noticed that the children were carrying bags of Madura sweets.
An incredulous youth derided the saint and the story. On the occasion of the next religious festival, held in Srirangam, the boy approached Sadasiva. "Master," he said scornfully, "why don't you take me to the festival in Srirangam, even as you took the other children to Madura?" Sadasiva complied; the boy immediately found himself among the distant city throng. But alas! where was the saint when the youth wanted to leave? The weary boy reached his home by the prosaic method of foot locomotion.
Before leaving South India, Mr. Wright and I made a pilgrimage to the holy hill of Arunachala near Tiruvannamalai to meet Sri Ramana Maharshi. At his ashram the sage welcomed us affectionately and pointed to a nearby stack of East-West magazines. During the hours that we spent with him and his disciples, he was mostly silent, his gentle face radiating divine love and wisdom. To help suffering humanity regain its forgotten state of Perfection, Sri Ramana teaches that one should constantly ask himself: "Who am I?" — the Great Inquiry indeed. By stern rejection of all other thoughts the devotee soon finds himself going deeper and deeper into the true Self, and the sidetracking bewilderments of other thoughts cease to arise. The illumined rishi of South India has written:
4 Emperor Asoka erected 84,000 religious stupas (shrines) in various parts of India. Fourteen rock edicts and ten stone pillars survive. Each pillar is a triumph of engineering, architecture, and sculpture. He arranged for the construction of many reservoirs, dams, and irrigation sluices; of highways and tree-shaded roads dotted with rest houses for travelers; of botanical gardens for medicinal purposes; and of hospitals for man and beast. 5 The city of Pataliputra (modern Patna) has a fascinating history. Lord Buddha visited the site in the sixth century B.C. when it was only an unimportant fort. He made this prophecy: "As far as Aryan people resort, as far as merchants travel, Pataliputra will become for them the chief city, a center for the interchange of all kinds of wares" (Mahāparinirbāna Sutra). Two centuries later Pataliputra became the capital city of the huge empire of Chandragupta Maurya. His grandson Asoka brought the metropolis to an even greater prosperity and splendor.
6 Six volumes on Ancient India (Calcutta: Chuckervertty, Chatterjee & Co., 15 College Square; 1879, reissued 1927). 7 Neither Alexander nor any of his generals ever crossed the Ganges. Finding determined resistance in the northwest, the Macedonian army mutinied by refusing to penetrate farther; Alexander was forced to leave India. He sought further conquests in Persia. 8 From this question we may surmise that the "Son of Zeus" had an occasional doubt that he had already attained perfection.
9 All Greek observers comment on the lack of slavery in India, a feature at complete variance with the structure of Hellenic society. Creative India by Prof. Benoy Kumar Sarkar gives a comprehensive picture of India's ancient and modern achievements and distinctive values in economics, political science, literature, art, and social philosophy. (Lahore: Motilal Banarsi Dass, Publishers, 1937, 714 pp.) Another recommended volume is Indian Culture Through the Ages, by S. V. Venkateswara (New York: Longmans, Green & Co.).
10 "Inclusion in one of these four castes originally depended not on a man's birth but on his natural capacities as demonstrated by the goal in life he elected to achieve," writes Tara Mata in East-West for January 1935. "This goal could be (1) kama, desire, activity of the life of the senses (Sudra stage), (2) artha, gain, fulfilling but controlling the desires (Vaisya stage), (3) dharma, self-discipline, the life of responsibility and right action (Kshatriya stage), (4) moksha, liberation, the life of spirituality and religious teaching (Brahmin stage). These four castes render service to humanity by (1) body, (2) mind, (3) will power, (4) Spirit.
"These four stages have their correspondence in the eternal gunas or qualities of nature, tamas, rajas, and sattva: obstruction, activity, and expansion; or, mass, energy, and intelligence. The four natural castes are marked by the gunas as (1) tamas (ignorance), (2) tamas-rajas (mixture of ignorance and activity), (3) rajas-sattva (mixture of right activity and enlightenment), (4) sattva (enlightenment). Thus has nature marked every man with his caste, by the predominance in himself of one, or the mixture of two, of the gunas. Of course every human being has all three gunas in varying proportions. The guru will be able rightly to determine a man's caste or evolutionary status.
"To a certain extent, all races and nations observe in practice, if not in theory, the features of caste. Where there is great license or so-called liberty, particularly in intermarriage between extremes in the natural castes, the race dwindles away and becomes extinct. The Purana Samhita compares the offspring of such unions to barren hybrids, like the mule, which is incapable of propagation of its own species. Artificial species are eventually exterminated. History offers abundant proof of numerous great races which no longer have any living representatives. The caste system of India is credited by her most profound thinkers with being the check or preventive against license that has preserved the purity of the race and brought it safely through millenniums of vicissitudes, though many other ancient races have completely vanished."
11 His formal title was Swami Sri Sadasivendra Saraswati, under which he wrote his books (commentaries on Brahma Sutras and Patanjali's Yoga Sutras). He is highly revered by modern-day philosophers of India. The Shankaracharya of Sringeri Math, His Holiness Sri Sacchidananda Sivabhinava Narasimha Bharati, wrote an inspiring Ode to Sadasiva.