By kirtan is meant devotional singing. Through singing what we are trying to come in contact with, is our heart – to stir up the heart through the singing, to feel the heart – then through devotion, to arrive at meditation. The heart is the reservoir – infinite – of love – of devotion and surrender to the Truth that abides in you, to the Truth that abides everywhere, God.

In this form of meditation there is content – and devotion is the content, inspiration is the content. And through that devotional inspiration we arrive at ecstasy – and thenceforth ecstasy is the content. It gathers you up in yourself. This is a natural content of your heart, and this is what we are trying to tap – and through this devotional content you can arrive at meditation in yourself, meditation in God. In this way meditation is attained through devotion.

Then there is meditation through peace and tranquillity – when you are at peace with yourself that too is meditation. To be at peace with yourself is to be at peace with all, is to be in harmony – this is a way of meditation, too. But devotion is a way of meditation where you get concentrated in the heart and, through that, you arrive at the Truth.

About five hundred years ago, there was one very renowned and prominent soul of the devotional Bhakti movement in India who sang and danced in the name of God, and arrived at the Truth. There have been many of course since, and also surely before that. The Sufis also use singing and dancing to arrive at meditation; so also the Vaishnavas who follow the path of devotion and the worship of Lord Vishnu and His incarnations.

This renowned soul was known by the name of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu. He was all the time calling out to God, singing and dancing, in ecstasy. And supposedly he used to catch hold of the men by tempting them – because if he were to invite them just for devotional singing, many would not have come. So he would invite them saying that there was to be tasty fish soup to drink and the warm embrace of a woman. And the men would come running!

This was in Bengal, and Bengali people love fish, and of course, warm embrace of a woman… how many would resist? They used to come in large numbers and join in the devotional singing, expecting the warm embrace of a woman and fish soup afterwards. Instead, there was plenty of weeping in devotion and ecstasy – that was the fish soup – and rolling on the ground in ecstasy, which was the warm embrace of a woman.

So in this way he used to attract them to sing Kirtana, devotional singing of the names of God; his way was of singing. He was a genius, a great grammarian; he was extremely well-versed in Sanskrit grammar and prosody. He was a true Pundit so to speak, an extremely learned person. At a very young age he had excelled in all the studies; at the same time he was exceedingly mischievous and playful.

He lived for forty-eight years – the first twenty-four in the world, living as a married man, learning grammar, Sanskrit, scriptures, everything – and playing mischief. He used to throw away into the river the puja – worship – utensils of the girls when they came to the banks of the river to worship, in fun and mischief – Krishna-like.

For the first twenty-four years he was Nimai Pundit; the next twenty-four years of his life he was a renunciant; he became a Sannyasi. A tremendous change came upon him after he went to Gaya, which is a very ancient and a very renowned pilgrim place for the Hindus – Buddha also went there and since then BodhGaya has become famous. There is a temple to Vishnu over there, and Chaitanya was supposed to be an incarnation, or carry the principle of Vishnu in him. He stands high on the pinnacle of the Bhakti movement, the way of devotion.

The visit to Gaya brought in him the starting of tremendous mystical experiences, the meeting with his Guru, and a complete change in his life. He was initiated into Sannyasa. After that he never returned to his home: he went to live in Jagganath Puri. His way was of ecstasy, through the heart, singing and dancing. And he is the one who has given what the Vaishnavas call the Mahamantra:

Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna,

Krishna, Krishna, Hare Hare.

Hare Ram, Hare Ram,

Ram, Ram, Hare Hare.

He had an elder brother who is said to have also taken Sannyas and disappeared from home when he was very young – at the age of sixteen. When last heard of, he is supposed to have come to Pandarpur, in Maharashtra, near Poona, a very important and sacred centre of pilgrimage for the Hindus where there is an ancient temple in which Lord Vishnu is worshipped as Vitthala.  Nimai was a young boy then, much younger, so his parents were always worried that their second son would also take Sannyas and disappear. Then his father passed away and only the mother was left, and of course Nimai pacified her saying that he would never leave her. So she got him married, and Nimai of course continued to take care of the mother, of the house, and became a great-learned scholar.

His first wife is supposed to have died by snakebite and he is supposed to have married again: the first wife was called Lakshmi; the second was called VishnuPriya. But then, things were to change even though he had promised to his mother that he would never leave.

It was a total change that came into his life: the time had come. He happened to go to Gaya where he met Ishwarapuri, who initiated him into Brahmacharya. And then later was initiated into Sannyasa by Keshava Bharati, but he retained the name that was given to him when he was initiated into Brahmacharya – Sri Krishna Chaitanya, because he was all the time singing to Krishna, and Krishna was his ideal, so it was most appropriate for him to identify with.

And the place on the banks of the Ganga where he was born became a place of ecstasy. He never went home after he took Sannyas because that is the rule of Sannyasa. His mother was shattered – he had made his mother agree to it saying that if he stayed at home he would die, whereas if he took Sannyasa he would live.

So the mother had to agree: she would rather see her son alive and elsewhere than see him forced to be at home and die. He said, ‘I cannot live anymore in this way’, as he was born for other things – just like the Buddha.

Buddha was born a prince, Siddhartha. At the age of twenty-nine or so, a change came upon him – the moment came, as it were.  Until that time he had had all the joys of life: he was married and had a six-month old child, Rahula. Then he took a visit outside the palace gates. This was the trigger ­– but the moment had come – destiny was knocking on his door. He had to go – whatever the reasons.

He sees the reality of life and its sufferings. His heart is filled with compassion, and that very night he disappears: from a prince to a mendicant who wanders in search of the Reality. There is no other thought in the Buddha: from Siddhartha he is transformed into a wanderer – but not an aimless wanderer. You find all kinds of wanderers – while he has an aim: the Highest.

There was only one feeling in his heart, one thought in his mind – and that was to find the cause of the suffering in the world. He wanted to find the Reality, the Truth behind life. His heart was stirred much – you see. In all these cases it is the heart that is touched. The personality expresses itself in many different ways, but it is always the heart that is touched. There was tremendous compassion that came up when he saw the suffering- when he saw the leper, when he saw an old man dying. And then he saw the Sannyasi, a monk in saffron, who had this look of freedom on his face. That inspired him, turned him completely to this one objective – there was nothing else in him but this awakened fire of longing to know the Truth.

So too it was with Chaitanya. He was supposedly a very handsome man. They say when he used to sing in ecstasy, the women would come running to see him, because he had this extremely beautiful body, and it would glow with ecstasy. It is very interesting: forty-eight years of life – first twenty-four being a scholar, living at home, playing mischief, then a sudden change. Like the Buddha, suddenly he walked away. Buddha – from a prince to a beggar; Chaitanya – from a great, learned scholar to a life of Divine ecstasy. They just dropped everything and walked away.

You cannot walk away unless you have this longing; you cannot meditate unless you are there completely. And this is why the whole idea is to awaken this longing in your heart; once you have that, it all comes. It is like a link, a chain by which you pull yourselves to Reality and God.

So also for the Buddha: it was lifetimes and lifetimes of sadhana, of seeking – so many lives! In the Jataka tales, which are supposed to be the stories of his past lives, it is said that in many of his past lives he was a king and he left each time his Kingdom for finding the Truth. Then he was born as Siddhartha, the prince, destined to be the Buddha – now you can call it destiny – a destiny made by himself through so many lives.

Destiny has arrived through his doing, destiny is not from ‘elsewhere’ – you make your destiny, you are the destiny, and you make it yourself.  So Buddha made his destiny and arrived at that moment, the destined moment, so to speak – the accumulation of all that energy that he had put out for many lifetimes towards what – towards his seeking.

That moment came: for twenty-nine years living all the joys – he was surrounded by pleasure.  His father had made sure, because there was the prediction, that he would either be a great, renowned king – loved very much by his people for he would be just and fair – or, if somehow he was exposed to sufferings or sadness – others’ sufferings, not his own – then he would go away, walk away, and become a great sannyasi.

This was what was foretold to his father. So his father sheltered him; he did not want his son to leave – he wanted his son to rule after him. So it was with mother Sachi, the mother of Chaitanya; the elder son had left, disappeared at the age of sixteen, never to be seen again. In those days, mothers were more attached than they are in these times. And mother Sachi was very attached to Nimai, but the moment came. Destiny was knocking on the door.

There is a similar story about Shankara – Shankaracharya. He was the only son, the only child to the mother – he had lost his father early. Again, a great scholar; at a very young age this longing came – to walk away in search of Truth. And his mother, of course, would have no thought of it, she would not hear.

So he arranged something, they say: he went into the river to bathe and a crocodile caught hold of his leg; his mother was on the banks and so he started to shout. ‘Oh, mother, I’m going to die – the crocodile has caught hold of me!’ And the mother said, ‘what shall I do, my son, what shall I do?’ He answered, ‘The only way it can help – I’ll be alive, I’ll be safe – is, if you allow me to go and take Sannyas’. She was in a fix. She had no choice but to agree. So she said, ‘yes, yes, my son, so that you may live’! And immediately the crocodile left him and out he came to the banks, bowed down to her and walked away. See! Poor mothers!

These are simple mothers – they just accept anything the son tells them. Of course for the Buddha, the mother was not present – it was the father. It is easier to go away from the father because the mother and the child are attached very strongly – nine months through the umbilical cord. The mother pours herself into the child: she nourishes, nurtures through her blood and flesh. The bond between mother and child is so much stronger.

So they played clever games like these – very original: crocodile on one side… they all had the same string of thought and feeling though, you can see. It is the same string running in Chaitanya and Shankara – each one saying that he would die otherwise. And the mother, of course, in her simplicity and wanting, made such a great sacrifice so that he may live, even if elsewhere. She would continue to suffer the pang of separation of course, but this was all right for her as long as her child could live.

And, supposedly, Shankara came back when she was passing away. He had promised her: she had said, ‘when I am ready to leave this world, you must come’.

Traditionally, when one takes Sannyas, one cuts away all bonds immediately. That is why he wears saffron: it is fire, fire that burns away all bonds. He has no other connection: his only connection is with the underlying Reality, with the Truth Eternal.

He breaks all attachments in one go, so there is no link to anything earthly, to anything material – he is seeking only the infinite – that is the only connection with anything. So they go through this ritual of cutting off all bonds immediately: they build a fire and they shave off their hair. Everything goes: all the statuses, relationships – everything goes into it. ‘Om Swaha, Om Swaha, Om Swaha, Om Swaha, Om Swaha!’ You cut away with everything. In another sense, you become a ‘walking liberation’.

But Shankara had promised his mother, ‘I will be back for that last moment.’ And he came back. He was in the Himalayas when he felt that the time of his mother’s going had come. So he travelled all the way from the Himalayas to Kaladi, a small place in Kerala where he had been born.

But the priests of his clan denied him entry: he was born in the Brahmin community, in the community of Namboodri Brahmins, who were supposed to be, even among Brahmins, the most learned ones and to therefore have higher place. They held on to strict tradition and refused him to do the last-minute rites for his mother, because he was a Sannyasi and not supposed to have anything to do with such rites anymore.

But it was his mother’s wish that he should perform it with his own hands. And it was a promise he had given her before taking Sannyas. So he broke with tradition. They would not help him so he did it all on his own.

He cut down all the banana trees in the yard and with whatever wood there was in and around the house built a pyre for her and did the rites. And then he told these community members, ‘you have not understood the essence of the Scriptures and their true import. You study them and you may be learned, but it has not made you wiser. You stick to the letter and make it the rule and the law without understanding the Spirit of the scriptures. You quote the scriptures word-by-word, letter-by-letter but you are dead to their true import and Spirit. Your learning is useless. It has only made you rigid and arrogant.’ And he walked away having cremated his mother’s body.

So also with Mother Sachi. Breaking with tradition Chaitanya would have her visit him whenever and wherever she could when he came visiting his devotees, although he would not enter her home which was once his home too, since a Sannyasi is not supposed to. So she would visit whichever house he was visiting where they would be having kirtana – dancing and singing all the time.

In all these souls there was this tremendous longing – in Buddha, too. The kind of ordeal he went through for the whole of six years when he left home is supposed to have been extremely intense.

We are talking about the intensity – it is not a matter of what he did and what he did not do: it is the intensity that made him do it. The intensity – it was like a fire.

So also in Shankara and Chaitanya – it was this fire; nothing could hold them from fulfilling it. And they built that fire through lifetimes: it is an accumulation. You accumulate the energy; you accumulate through your karma, through your action – we create a personality through our actions. Every act you make leaves an impression; it creates a tendency. You are the source of that act; you are the source of that energy, so that impression remains with you.

So Shankara, Chaitanya, and Buddha ‘accumulated’ this action of turning to That. Then one lifetime they are born, destined – so to speak – to arrive, in their own way: Chaitanya through singing and dancing, and yet he was a great, extremely intelligent scholar. He could have hair-splitting debates with you about the nature of the Truth. Usually people think that those who sing and chant the name of God must be ‘dodos’ – it was not so with Chaitanya, and it need not be so.

It is the same with Christ: Judas thought that he was more intelligent than Christ. So he planned to do things his own way because he thought Christ was not capable of doing them – and he ended up playing in the hands of the scribes. Christ knew this, and told him so: ‘It is through the heart Judas, not through the head.’

So sometimes in your arrogance you might think you are very clever, that you know while really you know nothing! The Truth is too immense to be known in that way: you have to become it, be it, and there are so many ways… There are those who know the Reality through so many ways, and there are some who only know It through one way.  And yet, through one way, you can know it all – if it is the Truth you are seeking, not some idea, not some concept – some personal like and dislike. Because the Truth is beyond likes and dislikes: the Truth is Truth inspite of your like and dislike.

So you can see: Chaitanya arrives, Shankara arrives, Buddha arrives – they all have different personalities. Shankara is supposed to be predominantly intellectual: ‘he uses his head,’ one might say, and yet you see his devotion too, when he sings

Bhaja Govindam, Bhaja Govindam,

 Govindam Bhaja mudha mate

Samprapte sannihite kale

 nahi nahi rakshati dukrian karane

‘Debates and arguments – grammar – are all of no use in the end, oh foolish one. Sing the name of Govinda, worship Govinda!’ And he went around defeating people in hair-splitting debates and arguments: nobody could stand – sit or stand – to argue with him and defeat him. He went all over this country – there were very intelligent people around at that time, with all kinds of philosophies – and he defeated every one of them.              

He is the one who is attributed with throwing Buddhism out of this country, the land of its birth. Jainism and Jainas are still here, but Buddhism? Got thrown out. You find it in Nepal, you find it in China, you find it in Japan – Far East – and you find it in Sri Lanka…but India? Only the relics remain, and the place of his birth, the place of his enlightenment. Buddha’s influence was very strong – kings took to it. Shankara came – he turned them all around again. He was so good in his subtle arguments and debates.

And yet he sings, ‘Bhaja Govindam, Bhaja Govindam’: ‘Sing, sing the name of God’.  Somebody like Shankara singing? It is amazing! He denies all this creation, he says there is only one Reality, and you are It.

That is why he says, ‘Shivoham, shivoham’. On one side, ‘I am Shiva; I am the One. None other.’ On the other side he sings, ‘Bhaja Govindam, Bhaja Govindam, Govindam Bhaja mudha mate’: ‘Oh, you foolish one, oh you foolish ‘mind’, sing and chant the name of Govinda, of God! In the end nothing will save you – neither this grammar nor all these arguments and concepts and ideas. It is the devotion; it is the worship alone that will save you.

You cannot imagine someone like Shankara singing this, if you know the life of Shankara. Shankara is a Sannyasi – he is the one who reinforced the life of Sannyasa. He established all these places of pilgrimage and monasteries on the four points of this country, in the four directions: North, South, East, and West – what are called ‘Matthams.’ All the saffron robes you see roaming around India were re-ordered and restored by Shankara.

And their whole approach is, ‘I am, I alone am – no other.’ And what a paradox! He is the one who built temples also, where they ask you to worship, to pray! And yet, he also says, ‘All this is an illusion, there is no other, I alone exist. The Self alone, the Absolute. All the rest is relative, is meaningless. It is all passing, so it is meaningless. It is going to die.’

That is Tantra also, in another way: ‘It is all dying, it is all ashes, all ends up in the graveyard’ – although they do not call it an illusion. Tantra says: ‘Go and be in the graveyard – that is the only place that is real because everything, everything will reach there one day. This whole earth will one day be a graveyard.’ This is how the Tantrics think: everything is passing; everything is passing away. This body is going to die and everything else with it. Your thoughts too are not going to be there one day. All that you see ‘created’ has to one-day end up in the graveyard – ashes to ashes dust to dust – everything will pass away one day.

It comes to the same thing when Shankara says, ‘I am Shiva,’ and covers himself in ashes. ‘Ahamasmi: I am, I alone am,’ beyond all forms and rituals – and knocks down all the rituals. And yet this same Shankara makes all these temples, and organises ritual worship! And then sings, ‘Bhaja Govindam, Bhaja Govindam… nothing will protect you when the end comes – Only your worship, your devotion, this longing for the True, for God, will help you’.  It is very interesting: he has all these compositions – and this one is pure devotion. It is a very famous composition of his – very popular.

On one side there is his composition, which is pure advaita – non-duality, ‘Shivoham, shivoham: I am not this; I am not this. I am not this; I am not this. Everything is unreal. The Self alone is real, the Self of pure bliss, pure consciousness.’

Chidananda Rupam Shivoham Shivoham

‘I am of the nature of blissful consciousness. I am Shiva. I am Shiva.’

Chidananda Rupam Shivoham Shivoham.’

While on the other is the composition, ‘Bhaja Govindam’ – ‘sing the praise of God, and that alone will save you’ which is pure dvaita – duality.

And it is not a contradiction I tell you; it really is not. All contradictions are resolved when you find the Truth, the complete Truth. All paths lead to that completeness; and all paths are there, in you, because you are the Reality. The first composition is of the mind and the way of enquiry, the second is of the heart and the way of devotion. The two can be reconciled into a harmonious whole.

There are so many quarrels in the world because of this. Somebody says, ‘This is right;’ somebody says, ‘That is right.’ You know the story of the elephant? There are five blind men – they find an elephant. They are all blind: one catches hold of the trunk, the other catches hold of the leg; one catches hold of the tail, another catches hold of the ear; and then maybe someone touches the side, and another the trunk. And each one describes the Truth according to his experience.

And they have a quarrel. The fellow who catches hold of the trunk says, ‘It is like a trumpet, or like a hose, a pipe. It moves all the time, it wraps around you like a snake.’ Another one says, ‘it is like a pillar, it does not move.’ And the fellow, who catches hold of the tail says, ‘hey, it is very good; it is like a whisk, it keeps the flies away.’ You see? Each one is sure that their experience alone is the Truth, for they see not the whole Truth. Therefore they have a quarrel. Neither of them understands that each of their experiences is only an aspect of the Reality and not the whole and only Truth. They do not realize that each of them know only part of the Reality. If they all put all their experiences together, maybe then they may have the understanding of the whole Reality – the whole Elephant, so to speak.               

In India, because of its great heritage of thousands of years of living in spirituality, in seeking, in searching after the Reality, it is in the blood, it is in the air, it is in the soil, it is in the people. They accept that as many people, so many ways – as many beings, so many ways… and more! Infinite is the Reality. And so this land has given birth to so many, who have found the Reality in so many ways. And still it keeps on giving birth. There is no quarrel – there is only harmony.

And even those that were born outside the borders of this country, they found refuge here. The Bahai faith, to mention one of them, was persecuted in their own land, but found refuge here. Islam also grew in this soil, even though they came and persecuted people here. The Sufis made it their home because of the largeness that is found here. India has so much power to assimilate and bring out something new.

So the Indians say, ‘All is the way of God; inscrutable is the way of God.’ To limit the ways of God to one or two is to limit God, is to limit yourself, is to limit the Reality.

So rejoice, for through each and everyone it is God Who manifests. Rejoice in the versatility, the multiplicity of the workings in the ways of God.

And because of the capability of the people of this soil to be open to new ways, there has always been freshness in spirituality – and there have always been new prophets.

So in our seeking there must be no rigidity; there must be magnanimity, because the Reality is magnanimous.

It is then that you find your innocence, and in that innocence you find so many ways. You see, like a child – a child is always finding new ways because the child is innocent. If you over-regulate the child, you kill the child.

And there is a child in each and everyone – that innocence. Let it live and let it rejoice in that innocence – and let it discover the ways of God.

Your heart knows the ways of God – if only you were to seek in your heart – deep. It does not matter how long it takes: what matters is your seeking.

You think that if Buddha had not found Enlightenment after six years he would have given up? Never. He would have stayed with it until his body dropped, and then continued again in the next life. For such a one then, it has to happen.

If you give up, you have lost. If you do not give up, you will win. 

You know, when he who finally was to become the Buddha sat down under the ashwattha – Bodhi tree, he decided he would not get up from there until he found Enlightenment – even if the body were to drop. It was not a desire, it was a longing – it was like a burning fire! And a longing drops only when it reaches fulfilment.

His whole being was there – it had become one with his longing. Then everything dropped – only That remained.

For the river had arrived at the ocean – that is when the river is no more. His river of longing continued until it arrived at the ocean. Then the river became the ocean.

For Buddha it was more than a desire – it was a longing. A longing is different from a desire. That is why I emphasise the word longing: it is a fire in you heart; it is the fire of your soul that will not remain satisfied until it finds itself.

This is what happened with the Buddha: there was no other desire for him – his desire and longing became one. You see, his longing put him to the seeking totally, and kept him there, so that he could go beyond everything. That is how it happened.

It was his longing speaking when he said he would not get up from there until he found what he was looking for. And then, when he was sitting there under the ashwattha – Bodhi tree, by being there continuously, he went beyond everything, and reached the culmination of his longing. Then there is no more longing – there is What Is!

It is like going through a tunnel: you see nothing else around you because there is only a tunnel; and then suddenly you come out into the open, and you are out of the tunnel. So, in his longing, he had thought for nothing else – he had just this tunnel of longing to find Enlightenment. And yet he was close: he accepted the sweet rice pudding that was offered to him – which he would have refused earlier – and went into meditation and arrived at Nirvana.

 I want to be very specific as to what ‘longing’ is and what is understood by ‘desire.’ In his life, Chaitanya used to have these periods of intense longing – intense – every pore in his body would start bleeding. The longing was intense indeed; his longing for merging with the Reality, merging with what was his objective… and then there would be this ecstasy, this blissfulness, this glowing – then there would be no longing, there would only be the merging, becoming one with his God – Ocean of Bliss, Ocean of Ecstasy.

Because his way was the way of emotional ecstasy, his way was of devotion. He felt intense pangs of separation, separation from God; – there was this tremendous longing there, like Mira’s. He used to move from one to the other, from longing to ecstasy, again and again. And, when he was in the longing state, there were all those tremendous symptoms like bleeding from the pores, and such tremendous emotions! They were not just surface emotions, but something much deeper: it is the deeper heart, what in the Upanishads is called the ‘Hridaya Guhyam’, the ‘cave in the heart’, your ‘deep soul’ – the feelings that are deep and profound.

And when that awakens, you do not seek anything else but for God.

That is what happened to the Buddha. Everyone sees the suffering out there in the world, but it does not affect them in the way it did Siddhartha who became the Buddha. There may be a leper next to you begging, and you could be buying yourself a drink of Coca Cola and not in the least feel anything about it. And yet for the young Siddhartha it created a tremendous upheaval and emotional turmoil. How did such feelings come up in the Buddha to be? Because his ‘deep soul’ was touched, his soul was so ready… There was only a thin veil, so to speak, covering his heart, and he could not bear; it became a trigger for him to go find the Truth about life.

All these souls were deeply compassionate. You find them being touched easily by suffering, not their own but other’s suffering. There is always a lot of compassion in their hearts – these feelings of compassion are always the feelings of the deep heart. You see the Buddha; you see Christ, Chaitanya, Shankara… and they always have introspection. If they are confronted, they will always enquire of themselves, they will not try to make justifications. They are always seeking – that is why – for they are seeking the Truth.

It is not something that you mentalize, and work to a plan. Buddha has been very natural and very spontaneous. But why is it natural and spontaneous with the Buddha? It is so now in his present life because of his working and seeking for it from the past, life after life, without giving up. Everything drops from him, rather everything has become redundant in his life except for this one thought; there is no other desire in him except for this longing that has awakened in him like a great big fire. Everything else has become unimportant. The intensity of his longing that which he now feels as a huge fire has developed, grown and nurtured through many lifetimes. When something has to drop, then you are ready to drop it, or it is ready to drop. It is not something you would work out as a laboratory technique to plan: ‘Ok, now we watch, and then we drop this.’ When something more significant comes into your life it replaces and renders insignificant all else, like it did in the case of the Buddha. It then alters radically the flow of direction of your life. It becomes a powerful movement. It becomes a revolution.

Why do I say this? Because today this kind of thing has become a fashion: a big plan, some technique, and voila – you have the Buddha! In this way you only belittle the Buddha and his Enlightenment.

Buddha is so much more! You cannot even drop a desire for Coca-Cola – Buddha has ripened ready for enlightenment! He was ready – in fire; his heart was aflame. There was nothing in his heart but this fire, just like with Chaitanya.

It is said that it was a sight to see Chaitanya trying to make his mother understand: on one side, he was in pain to see his mother in pain, on the other; his soul could not remain there, at home. There was destiny, but this destiny was made by him: it was the soul’s development worked out from the past arriving at its fulfilment – destined for That.

So also with Siddhartha the Buddha. His father said, ‘Oh, you have come back after so many years. Where have you been? We have been looking for you everywhere. Why did you go away? What were you looking for?’ The father was a king and he saw things only on a material level, or on an emotional level. ‘You have a beautiful wife, you have a child…’ responsibilities of life in the world. You see!

Look at Buddha’s life: he did not say no to marriage, he did not say no to the child. But when the longing suddenly surfaced – it did not come out of the blue: it was there, just behind, it was all built up from before – the moment came – then everything was left behind.

And yet they say he wanted to see his wife and child before he left. So he walked into his room silently in the middle of the night so as not to wake up his wife; and the child is nestled in the arms of his mother, and they are both serenely asleep… can you visualise; so beautiful! He comes near them and looks down upon them, one last time, one last moment. He may never see them again. Can you imagine what must be going on in his heart and mind? His heart is capable of great emotions, great compassion, great affections and yet he is poised on the threshold of a great self-made destiny, which is going to affect not only him but also all those who are related and associated with him. A deeply poignant moment full of pathos and stirring emotions. A tragedy is going to happen in the family. Their life is never going to be the same again. All their joys are going to turn into sorrow of the deepest kind when the new day dawns.

The fire is yet surfacing – it has been lit, but there is still ‘my child, my wife.’ He sees them for one last moment – he does not know whether he will get enlightened; what he knows is that he may never see them again – he is going away. So, one moment, he stops by to see them. Just for a moment, silently, because he is a loving person too. And it is natural that a loving person will have these feelings.

It is not like one would plan for enlightenment and say, ‘hey, now I am going for this and they, my wife and child are finished – their utility is over.’ He is a loving man – that is why Buddha is Buddha. There have been unnumbered enlightened people; but the quality of Buddha is Buddha’s, the quality of Christ is Christ’s. There have been so many enlightened people but it is in the personality that makes for a special person that is a Buddha and a Christ. The personality of Buddha is Buddha’s; the personality of Christ is Christ’s.

Today, of course, you hear talk of ‘enlightenment’ all the time, but very few who show the depth and commitment to work and prepare for it. The attitude is most times one of utility. There is no heart, there is no soul – and enlightenment is simply another enjoyment. That is not the Enlightenment of the Buddha, nor is it the ‘Kingdom of God’ of Christ!

They had a personality deeply committed, deeply compassionate – and that is why even today they are still known, thousands of years later; and they will continue to be known until the end of creation. There is depth there!

So he stops for a moment, in sincere apology: ‘I go, and I know how you will be pained; but I go for the destiny of this world.’ For Buddha goes not only for his destiny – it is the blessed destiny of this creation to have one like him. Ones like Buddha and Christ are so – and each being can be so to whatever measure they can manifest. To his destiny is attached the destiny of the world. He is a world Teacher or more appropriately as in India they say a Yuga Purusha – Soul of the Age.

He does not know whether he is destined for enlightenment when he leaves, and yet he is totally committed – there is only one thought, one feeling, one fire ablaze: ‘I want to know the meaning of life, the reason for this suffering in the world. What is the Truth?’ But lo and behold he arrives; so he returns. He returns not to stay, he returns to give them – his wife, his child, his father, and all his family – although he does not consider them in that personal way anymore.

He is a compassionate being; he has compassion in the same way for all. So when the father says, ‘my child, where have you been? We have sought you everywhere. Come! What have you done to yourself, wearing the saffron ochre robe of the mendicant?’ And he has a begging bowl in his hand; he is a renunciant, a monk, a bhikku – even to the last day he begged for his food. So his father is very upset seeing his son like this: ‘you are a prince! Why should you be in this condition? Those who do not have anything to eat maybe should become monks, mendicant monks, beggars – not you!’

He says, ‘father, if I was born to rule, I would rule. I was born to be a beggar, so I am a beggar – but a beggar who knows the Truth, who has arrived at Nirvana. Why do you not follow me? For you attach yourself to that which is passing away, while I have found the Eternal.’ So, many relatives followed him.

All these souls have tremendous feelings, very deep feelings. It is not something mechanical where he has been given a plan: ‘now you sit and you drop the desire’ – these are later interpretations. Rather it is the culmination of his longing! The river arrives at the ocean: he is only a longing when he leaves his home. There is no other feeling in him – only a longing. There is no other thought. He goes like the comet across an open sky.

He never even for a moment sat there and thought, ‘if I go away, I would like to have some food to eat. Where and how will I find it? Maybe I should take my cook along with me and a few servants.’ Or, ‘who will take care of my clothes?’ What will happen? There is a dance in Khajuraho in few days time; maybe I go and see that first, and then maybe I will try out something else…’ he had no thoughts like these. ‘I am a prince. I am used to so many servants around me. I have so much comfort: my thick mattress, sleeping bag … it may be cold out there. How will I manage?’ No such thoughts: he had gone beyond already – because of that one fire of longing.

That is what Shankara as a Sannyasi represents. When they the Sannyasins wear the saffron robe, which signifies the fire, it means just that: all is burnt; all has been given up ‘Svaha, Svaha, Svaha!’ All is gone for the sake of that one search. And neither does Buddha go screaming and shouting announcing his intentions – you can see the poise in him. Before he goes he offers all the silken clothes and gems and jewellery that he is wearing to his charioteer and says: ‘now you go back. Siddhartha is not going to return…’

The charioteer is shocked: ‘what are you saying?’ He weeps because he loves Siddhartha, the prince. It is not just a matter of master and servant relationship – it is love, it is loyalty. ‘I cannot accept these. How can I go back without you?’ He thought his master was just taking a midnight ride? But then he hears him say, ‘no more I come back with you. I keep one simple garment: one dhoti maybe, and one covering’ – and then walks away.

That is why I say you can mentalize all you like, as people did later, what happened and how it happened… Still to know the Buddha, you have to be the Buddha – not what he realized, but as a person! To know Krishna, you have to be Krishna; to be Christ you have to be Christ. And to know the entire Reality, you have to be the whole Reality! There can be arguments for anything – for and against – but the reality is how it really happened.

Buddha is all heart, Christ is all heart; and in your heart is the secret. And when that fire starts to manifest, the work is all done. It does not matter how long it takes. You have everything then.

You see, Buddha never thought in this way, ‘Oh, I may do it for six months; let me try it out for six months. Let me take this risk for a while to go away from all this comfort.’ He jumps without thinking what awaits him there and what he leaves behind – he just jumps. Not because he has thought it out – that if he gets enlightened, he will have so many followers and everything, and they will give him this and they will give him that, and then he will be very famous and well-known…

X:  Why did Buddha tell his wife there was no need to renounce?

You have been misinformed – he couldn’t have done such a thing. If that was so then why did he go away himself giving up everything? Why did he not stay back and do his seeking at home amongst his family? And post enlightenment, when he paid a visit to his home, why did he ask all his family members to give up everything and follow him? You have been misinformed, my friend, about the life events of the Buddha. I am talking about the longing that took him away – afterwards you can say anything you like! Ramanamaharshi also supposedly said the same thing. But what made him go living in a cave where his knees and body were eaten by all kinds of insects? Afterwards he can say, ‘You can do it anywhere!’ Sure, you can do it! But what did they do in their actual life? I am talking about that. I am not saying you go like the Buddha: you can only be what you are; you can begin only from where you are.

X: You cannot pretend to have this longing.  Either you have it or not.

All this while what do you think I have been talking about. Not pretension surely but the very authentic nature of the Buddha, of Chaitanya and of Shankara. The authentic nature of the longing they manifested. And this longing is there in your heart too – in every heart. And that is what I am saying. We are not talking about pretending. You have to work for it. It just does not happen on its own as you people have been made to believe. They too developed it through lifetimes. It just does not drop down from nowhere as you think. It was no accident. You can awaken it here; you can awaken it anywhere. But to awaken it… this is the thing! For that you have to seek it and work for it. It is not the imitation of the Buddha or Christ… we are talking about what happened with the Buddha, and what longing it was for him. Why did the wife not ask him then, ‘why did you go, if you could do it here?’ He could have saved them so much sorrow. He had to go, that was how it was for him. That is how he had to work out his destiny.

The point I am trying to make is, how Siddhartha the Buddha created this longing, working it out through so many lives. He had been a king, and even a deer at one time, it has been said. So there was evolution, there was development before he arrived at that point when he became the Buddha. Through life you develop some things; through life you drop some things. So you keep moving from life to life. In this way you grow in life in the direction you yourself have taken.

Through your experiences of life, through the impact of varying situations, through the stimulations they generate and the responses, choices and decisions you make, you develop in uniquely personal ways. Buddha went through many lives developing this renunciation. You see, this was not the first time he was born in the royalty – in other lives too – and he had walked away seeking for this Truth. He was not just mentally renouncing – his longing to know the Truth was so much that he walked away each time. But it was built up in time.

You did techniques. You are taught techniques, you have done all kinds of things, and now you hang around this kind of place. Before it was not so. How did it happen? You did not have it on your own; it was developed in you. How it was done – slow or fast – it depends on various factors. And now you would like to be in Khajuraho for the dance, but you have to repress it because maybe your friend does not want to come with you…

Y: No, no, no. I invited you to Khajuraho. I never said I want to go.

But when you invite me, it means you also go.

Y: No, no, no, I do not go – only if you are with me.

Ah, see. So it is important only if somebody like me is there. How did this come about?

Y: I do not know. Your fault!

Mine and some others also… This is how the soul develops. Now you hang around these places and so you will continue to do – next life, too – because it is there in the memory of the soul, something that touches the soul so deeply that it remains – something that does not go away. Ultimately the soul may have this as the main tendency.

This is what happened to the Buddha, you see? He lived very luxuriously, very comfortably. He had so much joy: all the time music, dance… a prince: his father arranged everything for him. I think that in history very few people, if ever, had that kind of enjoyment that the Buddha was given. He is supposed to have never been made to feel any kind of pain, any kind of suffering – his father made sure. Wish everybody had fathers like that! (Laughter). Or you have to end up sleeping in the field in the cold like some! (Laughter).

Why I speak about this longing again and again is so that your soul starts to feel it and develops it – it is there. What I mean by development is not that it comes from outside: it is there; it just uncovers itself. Everything is there! It just needs to manifest.

This is what Satsang is. Among the Vaishnavas they call it Harikatha.  When you constantly talk about Hari – God, then you start to feel for Hari. These feelings start to manifest; they become real. And through continuous repetition, you go into meditation! (Laughter).

(To Y): At least you start to hang around these places. Then, one lifetime, who knows… you may get somewhere. Well, you see the Buddha: how many lifetimes it took him to get there!

Y: How many lives did you have before?

Me? Many! I have many in the future also. Many – endless! I will come again and again. Yes, really.

Do you know where Sati, this concept comes from?

X: No.

You have not heard the story?

X: No, I know something about it, but I do not know exactly how it started. I imagine how it happened: I think it was an act of devotion of somebody towards somebody else, but then from that… thousands of years and millions of women burnt in the name of Ram. This is appalling!

No, not in the name of Rama – in the name of their husbands! And surely not millions!!! Some, yes. The origin is in the Shivpurana: it is the story of the first incarnation of Parvati – she was called Sati.

X: As a name?

As a name. And Shiva, her husband, of course, resides in Kailas, high up in the very cold icy regions of the Himalayas – he covers himself with ashes from the dead bodies burnt in the graveyards, he has snakes around him. For companions he has ghosts and spirits and rides a bull, not even a horse. Strange, strange indeed. And so the parents of Sati were very unhappy to have a son-in-law like that – he seemed a little strange to them would be putting it mildly. An understatement if there was any. They would have preferred to have a son-in-law say with a Rolls Royce, plenty of money, those kinds of things. Their daughter having someone like that as a husband somehow was not very digestible. And of course Lord Shiva is God of the gods, and there are many gods. Sati’s father, Dakshprajapati, is also very high in the hierarchy of creation… this is their story.

Z: Is it a story? Is it not real?

But the real can be a story – and a story can be real also. Of course, if you want to find whether this story is real or not, you have to go to Kailas and ask Lord Shiva…

Y: I went there and I knocked, but nobody was at home.

(Laughing:) They saw you coming! They all escaped!

Now the father of Sati was much respected by the other gods because he was high up in the hierarchy of the gods.

X: Ah, because they were all gods.

Yes, they were at that level, like our ‘god’ over there (pointing to Y), in the back…

So one day there was this gathering, some important gathering where Dakshprajapati was presiding and all the gods were sitting in their chairs. When he walked in everybody got up to give him respect – but Lord Shiva did not get up.

He is his son-in-law, so on that basis alone he should have gotten up. Secondly, as the other gods stood up, and because he does not understand the level of Shiva, thinking himself to be superior he expected him to stand up anyway. But Shiva does not, he continues sitting – maybe he was in meditation or in the bliss of the Self or whatever… Whatever the reason, he does not get up.

So this aggravated the situation further – firstly as it was not very digestible having him as a son-in-law, and now this seemingly rude behaviour made it even worse. So there was a built-up dislike towards Lord Shiva in Dakshprajapati, but he kept it to himself biding his time. One day he decided to perform a special yagya, a special ceremony where all the gods but Shiva were invited.

And Sati is his daughter, his eldest daughter, and she would be invited obviously – she is a member of the family. Indian families are very close that way – the Italian ones also… They all gather together, and then they make so much noise you cannot hear anything! (Laughter)

X: Indian ones are worse!

But of course no invitation was sent to Sati and Shiva. They were sitting in their home in Kailasa – Sati sitting next to Shiva, having a talk – when they saw all these flying vehicles passing overhead, Lear jets and Boeings and Airbuses, all kinds of jets flying across with all the gods, their banners flying…

And Sati watching all this wondered: ‘this is strange. Where are they all going?’ Shiva knows of course: he has a third eye. So he knows: third eye means insight into everything. He has it, so he knows – he is always consciously smiling because he is beyond, it does not touch him. He can provoke – through his being beyond he can provoke also, and that is how he provoked Dakshprajapati. Dakshprajapati has a big ego, so he gets provoked.

So anyway, Shiva is smiling, he knows the situation, so he says, ‘Well, they are going to your father’s place.’ ‘Yeah? How come?’ ‘Well, they are having a yagya, a special ceremony.’

Sati was upset, very upset and disappointed – how come they had not been invited? And the gods got going – many gods. Sati continues to wait for the invitation to come but the last god passed by, and there was no invitation. She is upset because they should have been among the first to arrive there – Shiva and Sati. Always the family members arrive first, then they participate, they take care of the situation… She was very upset and said: ‘we must go.’ And he said, ‘no, we cannot go. We are not invited; maybe they do not want us to be there. Why do you not understand?’

There is such a thing as strihatt, – stubbornness of a woman, which no one can overcome, once it raises its head. When she decides for something… that is it, she has to have it! And so it was like that with Sati. Shiva kept trying to make her understand: ‘see, it would create a problem if we go: we are not invited. They do not want us to be there; to go to a place where we are not invited is not the right thing to do.’

And she kept saying, ‘no! It is my house, my father’s house; I can go there anytime. I do not need an invitation to go to my father’s house’. And he said, ‘yes, this is how it should be, but here the circumstances are different. They, your parents do not like us. If they wanted us to come the invitation would have come long time ago.’

But she kept insisting. Lord Shiva tried to pacify her and make her understand for he knew what was going to happen. ‘We should not go. There will be trouble.’  But she would not relent and replied, ‘Ok, if you do not want to go, I will go’. He had to finally give in to her; he had no choice – ‘alright, you go’.

Anticipating trouble he sent a strong contingent of his doots, his attendants, with her – and his doots are very interesting: some have three eyes, some have one eye, and some have many arms… they are all weird looking and scary. They call them bhoots and prates; they are spirits and ghosts. They dress up also strange; they carry machetes and axes and all sorts of weapons; some are naked and have garlands of skulls around their necks – very unholy looking and demonical. So that is why the father-in-law could not digest his son-in-law – (laughing) for the kind of company he keeps!

So Sati goes at the head of this contingent – no wonder they are not invited to any party. Who would invite a party like that? Anyway they arrive, but they are not acknowledged. The ceremony goes on and somehow everybody is cold with Sati. I mean mother and father are mother and father, but still they did not give her much importance.

So, while the ceremony is happening, Dakshprajapati starts insulting Lord Shiva. Sati gets very upset. She cannot bear to hear it. So she tells him to stop this behaviour but he does not. So she starts what is called the yoga-fire in herself: through that fire she gives up her body! She cannot bear insults and abuses directed at her husband, so she gives up her body, and the ceremony is rendered inauspicious.

And of course the entire Shiva’s contingent gets very upset and proceeds to destroy the ceremony. They had come to protect Sati and she had given up her body through the yogic fire! So they destroy the whole place in anger as retribution. They shaved off the goatee of the priest Bhrighu who was presiding. That was a big insult. They destroyed everything: they threw everything into the fire, nullifying the ceremony – and the gods started to run and escape. They were catching hold of everyone and beating them up. The gods were running helter-skelter. And they caught hold of Dakshprajapati, cut off his head and threw it in the ceremonial fire, replacing it with the head of a goat, thus destroying the ceremony.

After destroying the place, they came back to Kailasa and told Shiva what had happened. Shiva became extremely angry, manifesting what is called the Rudrabhava: he opened out his dreadlocks, went and picked up the body of Sati, and began angrily moving all over with her body on his shoulders.  And parts of the body fell at various spots in India – in Himanchal, in Assam, in Bengal… And these spots are called Shaktipithams.

So these Shaktipithams are centres of power – she was power herself, representing the universal cosmic energy. Through that yogic fire she generated, she left the body. And so Lord Shiva carried her on his shoulders for many days in anger. Somewhere the yoni – vagina fell, somewhere the small finger fell, somewhere the head fell – wherever they fell, the Indians go there for pilgrimage.

So the story is from there and from there comes the tradition. And of course all the gods came to pacify Lord Shiva because he was doing the Tandava, the Dance of Destruction, to destroy everything in his anger.

In Himanchal there is Chamunda Devi, Chindpurni and Jwala Mukhi, where there is fire emitting from the earth all the time. And all these different spots are where parts of her body fell.

So then of course the other gods finally pacified Lord Shiva because they feared that the Creation would be destroyed otherwise. He becomes calm, but Shiva has this temperament: he can be very peaceful and quiet; he is very forgiving – he is very giving, but if he takes on the Rudrabhava then nothing remains. That is why you have to be very careful when you provoke him…

Sati was reborn as Parvati in the same family; Dakshprajapati was reborn as Himalaya – so Parvati is the daughter of Himalaya.

This is the story of Sati. Then, of course, as Parvati when she grew up, she wanted to be with Lord Shiva again. So she did a lot of tapas – meditation to be with him, and married him again.

To that act was given the name Sati, and it is not something that was organised or anything – it was a spontaneous thing that Sati did.

X: Yes, but then?

Everything gets twisted, distorted. Look at all the enlightened Masters who come and then at what the disciples do…

X: Yes!

Here you go!

X: I agree.

Sometimes even while the Masters are present!

And that is over thousands of years ago.  So you have the devotion of Sati, and you have the longing of the Buddha, of Shankara, of Chaitanya – it is also devotion.

There are some nice stories in the Puranas.  They are good stories: there is always an inner meaning behind them – whether they are ‘true’ stories or not is beside the point. There is significance involved. They are not a matter for imitation, rather to understand what they imply.

Y: Giridhar, can you see if there is a longing in somebody? Everybody has it, you said; but can you see if somebody is honest with himself or is just playing around?

Sure, you can. One can tell. And even in your playing around there can be a longing! Outwardly you can play around while inwardly you can continue to long. You know, Kabir used to do this. He would be working on his weaving and doing everything outside – inwardly he was always searching and longing.

Y: It is a kind of prison this devotion!

Prison? It can be. It need not be. It depends whom you are devoted to, and what you are devoted to. If you are devoted to finite things, then it is a prison. If you are devoted to infinity, it is a freedom.

 

 

 

Panchmadhi

12 February 1998