1 Vijayananda Sri
Amandamayi Ma Ashram 28th November 1980 |
|||
Anandamayi Ma is India’s most widely known twentieth centuary woman saint. Her name means the bliss-intoxicated Mother although she has been bliss-intoxicated since childhood -- indeed, she is said to be in an unbroken state of divine consciousness. Her physical beauty in itself has been extraordinary, and although she is now in her middle eighties, much of that beauty remains. Her spiritual magnetism is unchanged. She now rarely sings her bhajans, and never gives formal discourses. It is enough to be in her physical presence and have her silent darshan. She has never been abroad but still travels continuously all over India visiting her many Ashrams. The day I arrive in her Kankhal Ashram in the Himalayan town of Hardwar, all the arrangements for the three Interviews that follow were wiped out: she decided to give a four-hour silent darshan, something she had not done for years. Devotees are not going to get up and walk away from the presence of their guru to be interviewed by a stranger — they sit and absorb. I also sat and absorbed: there was nothing else for me to do. Perhaps I absorbed too much of her charged radiation because after Ma retired to her room, and we were free to disperse, there was a sort of repulsion at the thought of carrying out my plan to go from Ashram to Ashram, from devotee to devotee asking questions. I began saying to myself, how can anyone sit in front of one guru after another, absorb, and then expect the devotees to translate the experience into words? Well, the idea behind the Interviews is good, and – yes—it probably hasn’t been done in depth before, but here I am ready to start, but seriously suffering from resented intoxication! You can’t absorb and be expected to ask intelligent questions. I had prayed to my own guru simply to become a channel for this work. A coward would escape, and right now – but a channel? There is a flash of relief: this is happening on my first day, it’s very late, let’s see what happens tomorrow? If things go on like this, home! But here comes Ram Alexander my American friend who is one of Ma’s few foreign disciples allowed to live in this Ashram. He is excited: he says Vijayananda is prepared to give his Interview right now. Triumph met by bewilderment – I am still suffering from unexpected intoxication. Ram is unpacking my tape recorder, Vijayananda is waiting, there’s another flash – a happy one -- I can still leave early in the morning! Vijayananda is being introduced, and I see he is a gentle, elderly Frenchman who speaks softly, rather confidentially, and everything he says is punctuated by much quiet laughter. Yes, yes, he is happy to give his Interview. Even when you’ve absorbed too much and want to escape you have to respond…
Interview 1 Ram Alexander has been kind enough to tell me that you want to know about my background... Well... you see, there are two people: one who died on 2nd February 1951, the other who was born on 2nd February 1951. Now do you want to hear about the dead man or the living man? Could we try the dead
man first? This lasted until he was 17. He was being trained as a rabbi. He had eaten, devoured all Western philosophers but came to the conclusion that religion was a humbug. He was only enthusiastic about Nietzsche. Now what Nietzsche says is a non-sense, but as a teenager the nonsense he didn’t catch — what he caught was the spirit. Nietzsche is a mystic. Up till then this boy didn’t know what real mysticism was as he was surrounded by bigoted people — you must know them, they have no religious feeling. I was fully disgusted but Nietzsche attracted me just for the mystic flame. Later I found the same flame in the Upanishads without the nonsense, so I became fully Upanishadic. I stick to Vedanta right up to now although my first guru was a Buddhist and he wanted to make a Buddhist out of me. So that was the dead man’s lovely background. That doctor who practiced in the south of France and whose guru didn’t satisfy him decided in 1950 to come to India. Thirty years ago hardly anyone travelled to the
East just for spirituality. Did you have to come by boat in those days? In Ceylon I stayed in a Buddhist monastery with a German monk: he didn’t inspire me — he was very dry, but really dry. Then I went to Pondicherry, to the Aurobindo Ashram, and saw the Mother. Frankly, I didn’t feel anything. But as it happened, one Canadian lady who had just come from Benares said: If you go there I will give you something to see — the University, the temples, and Anandamayi’s Ashram. I asked: Who is Anandamayi? She said: Oh, she is a lady saint. I asked: She must be old? No, no, she is still fairly young. Then I asked — I didn’t know anything — But there must only be women with her? She replied: There are more men with her than women. So I thought: All right — let me go! But in my imagination I couldn’t help thinking she must be some old humpback. I wanted to go to Rishikesh to see Sivananda, so why not go on and see this lady saint also? I reached Benares on 1st February 1951 with a letter of introduction to the best man at Ma’s Ashram. But in Benares I had a strange impression I had come home — a strange impression I would never like to leave. Actually I knew I had to leave in three weeks — my return passage was booked. But anyway, I went straight to the fellow with my letter. He was not there. I found his nephew, an amazingly handsome boy, and he was the presiding deity who brought me to Ma. It was nearing sunset: I didn’t intend to see her — I just thought I would see the Ashram then go away. But as I entered, Ma came out. She looked at me with a strange look — she doesn’t have that look now, slightly up and far away as if she were looking at your destiny, embracing your whole destiny. Now what struck me first was that she was not a humpback, nor was she old but fairly handsome, although her great beauty did not strike me at that first moment. Her hair was long and flowing, and it surprised me: could a lady saint be that way? I always thought lady saints must be old with odd dress. She was all in white: her simplicity was a shock. Anyhow, I said: Let me stay on — let me see what will happen! I did not ask for it, but later Ma gave me a private Interview. Atmananda(1) was asked to interpret. Actually, I had nothing to ask: with a saint you don’t ask questions — you want the spiritual contact. But Ma started asking me questions — questions very much to the point. At one stage she said that the German professor who had visited her the day before was a worldly man, but that she could see I was marked as a worshipper of aum. That was the first day. I was supposed to go back to my hotel for dinner, but there was a kirtan and this devotional music was like hearing something from a previous life, a sound I yearned to hear again although I had never heard it before. I was filled with joy just listening to this music and singing. When I got back to my hotel there was a revolution going on inside me — a real revolution. I was overflowing with happiness, with love: it was something extraordinary. I felt I could not leave Ma. You cannot imagine it. Next day I came back to the Ashram and asked Ma permission to stay there. I moved out of the hotel and spent that first night nearly 30 years ago without blankets on the Ashram floor — there was no bedding. But I was happy. And since that day I have never left Ma. What happened to your
booked passage? You never left India?
When did Ma give you
the orange robes? Now I should explain that Ma doesn’t want to give sannyas to Westerners — she doesn’t want to give them orange robes. At least that’s what she says. Now once we were at the Kumbha Mela at Allahabad in 1971. It was the 20th anniversary of my meeting with Ma. She had been wearing this shawl I now have on – it was white then. She gave it to me saying it could be dyed the color I was then wearing – a brownish yellow. I didn’t want to do that; in a kind of joke I said: But gerua(3) would be better. She replied rather sternly: Gerua, no! — you can wear yogya. Then turning to someone she told him to dye the shawl for me. I would have been happy with it staying white, but when we were back in Benares, this person came for the shawl and made it orange, and after 10 years it is still the same colour although it has been washed many times. It wasn’t until Ma’s 80th birthday a few years ago that she gave me these clothes that are all orange. I would never have worn them on my own. Do you ever practice
as a doctor these days? Although I can see your
way of life is so Indian, do you ever see yourself back in the West? Can you tell me something
about your daily life? Over the years you must
have seen many Westerners in India looking for spiritual upliftment. Some fall
into the hands of imperfect teachers. Can you give any guidelines on how this
can be avoided? Since you have been with
Ma have you met any other enlightened teachers? Can you give a description
of life in this Ashram? But I was under the impression
that there are all sorts of rules about the castes not mixing with the Westerners. Is there any significance
in taking a new name? What is the translation
of your name? But if her devotees ask
for a new name will she not give one? Can you give any other
examples of how Ma relates to and teaches her Western followers? What is more real?…why should Ma be influenced by some of her close Indian devotees? Can’t they be influenced by what she wants? It is rather complicated. She herself doesn’t want too many Westerners. She has noticed — she has the insight — that Western civilization is totally different from Indian civilization. And not only the civilization, but the spiritual way of life. Here sexual purity is so important, whereas for Westerners it’s a trifle. You must take into account that when we talk to anyone there’s an exchange of vibrations, unwillingly perhaps, but it is there. When you and I talk together there is an exchange of minds: you will take something from me, I will take something from you. If you have strong control of mind you will not be influenced by me. But people who don’t have this control will be influenced without their knowledge. Surely Indian renunciates
would not be influenced? But was it so strict
when Ma started her mission? Even the Brahmins employed by the British were all for the British. They were servile, despising their own religion. The British ridiculed India and Hinduism, and to imitate the British, they put scorn on their own traditions. That was the background in which Ma started. I can tell you very plainly that although I have been here so many years – it’s almost thirty – I have been sometimes put at a disadvantage. I understand her. She still wants to show them that they are not to bow before foreigners… they have a higher civilization… they have a higher religion. You have been so patient,
I would like to thank you for explaining all that to me. You see, from the beginning I had the conviction that I was looking at the Lord Himself incarnated in the body of a woman.
|
|||
|
© Malcolm Tillis 2006 |