Kāli and Brahman

MASTER: “All in good time, my child. Kāli is none other than Brahman That which is called Brahman is really Kāli. She is the Primal Energy. When that Energy remains inactive, I call It Brahman, and when It creates. preserves, or destroys, I call It Śakti or Kāli. What you call Brahman I call Kāli.

“Brahman and Kāli are not different. They are like fire and its power to burn: if one thinks of fire one must think of its power to burn. If one recognizes Kāli one must also recognize Brahman; again, if one recognizes Brahman one must recognize Kāli.

Brahman and Its Power are identical. It is Brahman whom I address as Śakti or Kāli.”

It was late at night: Girish asked Haripada to call a cab, for he had to go to the theatre.

As Haripada was about to leave the room the Master said with a smile: “Mind, a cab.

Don’t forget to bring one.”

(All laugh.)

HARIPADA (smiling): “Yes, sir. I am going out just for that. How can I forget it?”

GIRISH: “That I should have to go to the theatre and leave you here!”

MASTER: “No, no. You must hold to both. King Janaka paid attention to both religious and worldly duties and ‘drank his milk from a brimming cup’.” (All laugh.)

GIRISH: “I have been thinking of leaving the theatre to the youngsters.”

MASTER: “No, no. It is all right. You are doing good to many.”

Narendra said in a whisper, “Just a moment ago he [meaning Girish] was calling him [meaning Sri Ramakrishna] God, an Incarnation, and now he is attracted to the theatre!”

Master’s love for Narendra

Narendra was sitting beside the Master. The latter looked at him intently and suddenly moved closer to his beloved disciple. Narendra did not believe in God’s assuming a human body; but what did that matter? Sri Ramakrishna’s heart overflowed with more and more love for his disciple. He touched Narendra’s body and said, quoting from a song:

Do you feel that your pride is wounded?

So be it, then; we too have our pride.

Then the Master said to Narendra: “As long as a man argues about God, he has not realized Him. You two were arguing. I didn’t like it.

“How long does one hear noise and uproar in a house where a big feast is being given?

So long as the guests are not seated for the meal. As soon as food is served and people begin to eat, three quarters of the noise disappears. (All laugh.) When the dessert is served there is still less noise. But when the guests eat the last course, buttermilk, then one hears nothing but the sound ‘soop, sup’. When the meal is over, the guests retire to sleep and all is quiet.

“The nearer you approach to God, the less you reason and argue. When you attain Him, then all sounds-all reasoning and disputing-come to an end. Then you go into samādhi- sleep-, into communion with God in silence.”

The Master gently stroked Narendra’s body and affectionately touched his chin, uttering sweetly the holy words, “Hari Om! Hari Om! Hari Om!” He was fast becoming unconscious of the outer world. His hand was on Narendra’s foot. Still in that mood he gently stroked Narendra’s body. Slowly a change came over his mind. With folded hands he said to Narendra: “Sing a song, please; then I shall be all right. How else shall I be able to stand on my own legs?” Again he became speechless. He sat motionless as a statue.

Presently he became intoxicated with divine love and said: “O Radha, watch your step! Otherwise you may fall into the Jamuna. Ah! How mad she is with love of Krishna!” The Master was in a rapturous mood. Quoting from a song, he said:

Tell me, friend, how far is the grove Where Krishna, my Beloved, dwells? His fragrance reaches me even here, But I am tired and can walk no farther.

Then the Master completely forgot the outer world. He did not notice anyone in the room, not even his beloved Narendra seated by his side. He did not know where he himself was seated. He was totally merged in God.

Suddenly he stood up, shouting, “Deep drunk with the Wine of Divine Love!” As he took his seat again, he muttered, “I see a light coming, but I know not whence it comes.”

Now Narendra sang:

Lord, Thou hast lifted all my sorrow with the vision of Thy face,

And the magic of Thy beauty has bewitched my mind;

Beholding Thee, the seven worlds forget their never-ending woe;

What shall I say, then, of myself, a poor and lowly soul? . . .

Listening to the song, Sri Ramakrishna again went into deep samādhi. His eyes were closed and his body was transfixed. Coming down from the ecstatic mood he looked around and said, “Who will take me to the temple garden?” He appeared like a child who felt confused in the absence of his companion.

It was late in the evening. The night was dark. The devotees stood by the carriage that had been brought to take the Master to Dakshineswar. They helped him in gently, for he was still in deep ecstasy.

The carriage moved down the street and they looked after it with wistful eyes. Soon the devotees turned homeward, a gentle south wind blowing in their faces. Some were humming the lines of the song: Lord, Thou hast lifted all my sorrow with the vision of Thy face,

The magic of Thy beauty has bewitched my mind.