I was watching the movie "On A Quest," which revolves around the life of the young journalist Balakrishna Menon, who would later become Swami Chinmayananda Saraswati. Just as I had the privilege to invite Tavayogi Thangarasan Adigal to my home, my brother had the privilege of inviting him to visit our family home when he was in Malaysia many years ago, although I was not around at the time to meet him. Though I was not there to get his blessings when he visited our home on the invitation of my brother, I had the privilege to be brought to meet his student and patron founder of the local chapter of his mission, Dhyana Mandram at Lunas, Kedah, Swami Brahmananda Saraswati, many years later. This is where a sadhu walked up to me and gave a piercing look that penetrated through me. Later, my nephew, who brought me and his father there, told me that the Sadhu was known in their circle as Uthupathi Swami and could do astral travel often between India and Malaysia. My nephew later met him at the Sri Marathandavar Temple in Maran, Pahang.
According to the biopic of Swami Chinmayananda Saraswati, in his quest to get answers, he comes to meet Swami Sivananda of Rishikesh. We are blessed to have Swami Sivananda walk on our soil in the past as a practising doctor in what was then Malaya. He wrote in his autobiography,
I decided to try my luck in the Straits Settlements of Malaya, and wrote to a friend, Dr. Iyengar, who had his establishment next to Dr. Haller sometime ago and later settled in Singapore. I wrote to Dr. Iyengar that I was planning to go to Malaya. I left Madras by S.S. “Tara.” I was unaccustomed to such long travels. I had no idea of the food I was to take on the way, of what preparations I was to make to begin my career in Malaya, and how much money was needed. I packed my things and did not forget to take a good consignment of sweets which my mother lovingly prepared for me. I belonged to an orthodox family and was frightened to take the non-vegetarian food on board the ship, and so I carried a good quantity of sweets. In my youth, I liked immensely sweet preparations. Throughout the voyage, I managed to live with the sweets and drank plenty of water. Being unaccustomed to this diet, I reached Singapore almost half dead! It was a bold, adventurous bid to throw oneself on the high seas of uncertainty. I had no money to fall back upon in case of a reverse in my expectations. However, I had tremendous hopes and took a plunge to test the mettle of my destiny. Strength of will and a fiery determination played a lot in moulding my life and spiritual career. No easy-going prospect was awaiting me in the distant swamps of Malaya, as I was altogether unknown and friendless, with no financial safeguard whatsoever.
I had to start from the very scratch and encounter disappointing setbacks in the beginning. But the later events turned out much in my favour and I felt my position secure. Immediately after disembarking, I went to the residence of Dr. Iyengar. He gave me a letter of introduction to an acquaintance of his, Dr. Harold Parsons, a medical practitioner in Seremban, the capital of Negri Sembilan. When I reached Seremban, I found that Dr. Parsons was absent. By this time, the little money I had was spent away. I was highly optimistic about getting a job. Dr. Parsons himself did not need an assistant. I was able to impress this physician in such a manner that he took me to Mr. A.G. Robins, the Manager of a nearby Rubber Estate, which had its own hospital. Fortunately for me, Mr. A.G. Robins was just then in need of an assistant to work in the Estate Hospital. He was a terrible man with a violent temper, a giant figure, tall and stout. He asked me: ‘Can you manage a hospital all by yourself?’ I replied: ‘Yes. I can manage even three hospitals.’ I was appointed at once. I had been told by a local Indian resident that I ought not to accept, in accordance with their policy, anything less than a hundred dollars a month. Mr. Robins agreed to give me one hundred and fifty dollars to start with. The doctor who was in charge of the Estate Hospital had just then left. Moreover, I was told that he was not very competent. I quickly acquired a good knowledge of the hospital equipment and the stock of medicines, and found myself absorbed in the job. Here again, hard work awaited me. I had to dispense medicines, in addition to keeping accounts and personally attending on patients as I did for Dr. Haller in Madras. Unusual handicaps began to tell upon me, and I felt like resigning the job after some time, but Mr. A.G. Robins did not allow me to go. I served in the Estate Hospital near Seremban for nearly seven years, after which I joined the Johore Medical Office, Ltd., at the instigation of Dr. Parsons, who had by then returned from war service. I served in Johore for three years before renouncing the world.
In Malaya, I came in direct contact with hundreds of the poor natives and indentured labourers as well as the local citizens. I learnt the Malaya language and conversed with the natives in their own tongue. I served the workers of the estate nicely and endeared myself to them all. I gained the esteem of the employer and the employee alike. I was always fond of service. This moment, I would be in the hospital, and the very next moment in some poor patient’s house to attend on him and his family. Dr. Parsons, who was a visiting physician to the estate hospital, loved me very much. I used to assist him in his private work, also. Off and on I gave my earnings to help friends and the patients. I even went to the extent of pawning some of my own valuables. I was a friend of both the management as well as the labourers. If the scavengers went on strike, the estate manager would come only to me. I would somehow run about here and there and bring them back to work. In addition to my own work, I would go about visiting other hospitals and acquire special knowledge in bacteriological and other subjects.
There was not a single available English medical book at that time that I had not read and digested. In addition to all this, I would help my assistants too and train them for some time daily, and then send them to other hospitals with a recommendation letter, providing from my pocket their railway fare as well as some emergency money. Soon, I became well-known in Seremban and Johore Bahru. The Bank Manager would oblige me at any time, even on holidays, by honouring my cheques. I became everybody’s friend through my sociable disposition and service. I got rapid promotions, and with that my salary and private practice increased by leaps and bounds. All this was not achieved in a single day. It meant very hard work, unflagging tenacity, strenuous effort, and indomitable faith in the principles of goodness and virtue and their practical application in my daily life. I specialised in microscopical study and Tropical Medicine. Subsequently, I moved to Johore Bahru, near Singapore, to join Drs. Parsons and Green and lived there for three years. Doctors Parsons, Green, Garlik, and Glenny complimented me as highly competent for the medical profession and admired me for my agile, nimble, and efficient nature.
I was happy, cheerful, and contented. I carefully attended on all patients. I never demanded fee from my clients. I felt happy when they were free from disease and trouble. To serve people and to share what I have is my inborn nature. I used to cheer up people with my wit and humour, and elevate the sick with loving and encouraging words. The sick persons at once felt a new health, hope, spirit, vigour, and vitality. Everywhere, people declared that I had a special gift from God for the miraculous cure effected in the patients and acclaimed me as a very kind and sympathetic doctor with a charming and majestic personality. In serious cases, I used to keep vigil at night. In the company of the sick, I understood their feelings and endeavoured to relieve their sufferings. I was liberal in my views. The spirit of Sannyasa was ingrained in me. Crookedness, diplomacy, double-dealing are not known to me. I was very candid, straightforward, simple, and open-hearted. I trained many young persons in the Hospital where I worked and fixed them up in various Estate Hospitals. I spent all my energy and time in relieving human sufferings by serving the poor and the sick, day and night, with a sympathetic heart. This kind of selfless service gave me purification of heart and mind, and led me to the spiritual path. In 1923, I renounced the life of ease and money-making and took to the life of a mendicant, a true seeker after Truth.
When Balakrishna Menon spent much time at his ashram wanting to cover his story for a local magazine, Swami Sivananda asked him, "You are full of questions. When are you going to start your quest?" (to know for yourself and your Self). Indeed, rarely do we want to go through the mill. We just prefer to know how it operates. We want bookish knowledge and not the experiences. Swami goes on to explain that "God's presence is felt." Similarly, Agathiyar, asking a devotee what happens to them when the couple carry out puja and charity, they answered him that they felt something. That "Unarvu" or feeling says Agathiyar was him. Swami, pointing out to Balakrishna Menon that he who is always performing some kind of action, asked him to know that part of him that was actionless. Swami Sivananda later ordains him into monkhood, and Balakrishna Menon, now known by his new name Swami Chinmayananda Saraswati, is sent away to Swami Tapovan Maharaj to learn the scriptures. The latter immediately sends him back to get a letter of introduction from Swami Sivananda. Swami Chinmayananda Saraswati makes the long walk back on foot to the ashram again to get the letter. Asking why Swami Tapovan Maharaj sent him back to get the letter, Swami Sivananda says it was to test him. Meanwhile, Swami Tapovan Maharaj tells his aids who questioned his action, which seemed like an inhumane action, that the sacred knowledge has to be taken, and that it's not given. Similarly, Agathiyar too says that Gnanam is not gifted but has to be earned. It comes with our effort. Tavayogi, who expressed his surprise, told me that I came to Agathiyar rather easily, telling me further that they were tested and had to come to earn it the hard way. Agathiyar, too, in giving us practices, tells me that what was given were practices that the Siddhas had to acquire the hard way, but have been readily granted to me. I am deeply grateful to Agathiyar. When Swami Chinmayananda Saraswati is drying Swami Tapovan Maharaj's torn garment, the master accuses him of tearing it. Shocked and saddened he walks up to him later telling him that he had learned that the world was a lie from this liar, his master. As the years rolled by, and when those around Swami Chinmayananda Saraswati wanted to start a mission and get things organized, he laughingly quips, "And so the Maya begins." Similarly, Lord Muruga, too, came to warn me of the play of Maya, a reminder and an alarm that Tavayogi had sent out on the very onset of my journey. Lord Muruga whispered to me to be aware, and beware of the play that was staged by Lord Siva and Agathiyar, and that was to be seen through by Lord Indran. The Gods and the Siddhas staged their lila to show me too that the world was a lie and so was the games they play. I am glad I sailed through the thin ice during this trying period without the ice breaking and falling into the lake or worse still, drowning and freezing.
When Swami Chinmayananda Saraswati had a photographer, who wanted to go over to America, where he was then, to take his photos, stay put, promising her that his photos would reach her; they turned out to be his Samadhi photos. This reminded me of how Supramania Swami, too, knew the date of his departure beforehand and wrote it in his diary.
As the scene moves to the present time, we're given a timely reminder by the head of the mission to start walking, and the path shall become clear. Most of us, though, never want to take the first step.
I had written in the previous post that the guru would want us to fill into his shoes, saying, "Once a follower and forever a follower. But that is not what the guru intended. He wants us to fit into his shoes and roles and become a guru too, a light that shines upon others", here, when the mission head is asked what it feels like to be in Swami Chinmayananda Saraswati's shoes, he tells us that he is not in his shoes but at his feet. It is a true fact that, though it might seem to the world that we are in the shoes of the master and guru, having taken over his responsibilities, we are forever at his feet, indebted and grateful to the guru for everything he has done and given us. So am I. My prayer to Agathiyar is to die enlightened and not die ignorant. I pray that he grants my prayer.