The Future Monks

Shri Ramakrishna taught the steep path of renunciation, both external and internal, to the young men destined to be monks.

They must take the vow of absolute continence and eschew all thought of greed and lust. By the practice of continence, aspirants develop a subtle nerve through which they understand the deeper mysteries of God.

For them self-control is final, imperative, and absolute. The sannyāsis are teachers of men, and their lives should be totally free from blemish. They must not even look at a picture which may awaken their animal passions. The Master selected his future monks from young men untouched by “woman and gold” and plastic enough to be cast in his spiritual mould.

When teaching them the path of renunciation and discrimination, he would not allow the householders to be any where near them.

Rām and Manomohan

The first two householder devotees to come to Dakshineśwar were:

1. Rām Chandra Dutta

He:

• was a medical practitioner and chemist.
• was sceptical about God and religion
• never enjoyed peace of soul
• wanted tangible proof of God’s existence.

The Master said to him:

“God really exists. You don’t see the stars in the daytime, but that doesn’t mean that the stars do not exist. There is butter in milk. But can anybody see it by merely looking at the milk? To get butter you must churn milk in a quiet and cool place. You cannot realize God by a mere wish; you must go through some mental disciplines.” By degrees the Master awakened Rām’s spirituality and the latter became one of his foremost lay disciples. It was Rām who introduced Narendranāth to Sri Ramakrishna. Narendra was a relative of Rām.

2. Manomohan Mitra

Manomohan at first met with considerable opposition from his wife and other relatives, who resented his visits to Dakshineśwar. But in the end the unselfish love of the Master triumphed over worldly affection. It was Manomohan who brought Rākhāl to the Master.

Surendra

The Master often addressed Suresh Mitra as Surendra. He had received an English education and held an important post in an English firm. Like many other educated young men of the time, he prided himself on his atheism and led a Bohemian life.

He was addicted to drinking. He cherished an exaggerated notion about man’s free will. A victim of mental depression, he was brought to Sri Ramakrishna by Rāmchandra Dutta.

When he heard the Master asking a disciple to practise the virtue of self-surrender to God, he was impressed. But though he tried thenceforth to do so, he was unable to give up his old associates and his drinking. One day the Master said in his presence,

“Well, when a man goes to an undesirable place, why doesn’t he take the Divine Mother with him?”

To Surendra himself Sri Ramakrishna said: “Why should you drink wine as wine? Offer it to Kāli, and then take it as Her Prasād, as consecrated drink. But see that you don’t, become intoxicated; you must not reel and your thoughts must not wander. At first you will feel ordinary excitement, but soon you will experience spiritual exaltation.”

Gradually Surendra’s entire life was changed. The Master designated him as one of those commissioned by the Divine Mother to defray a great part of his expenses. Surendra’s purse was always open for the Master’s comfort.

Kedār

Kedarnāth Chatterji was endowed with a spiritual temperament and had tried various paths of religion, some not very commendable. When he met the Master at Dakshineśwar he understood the true meaning of religion. It is said that the Master, weary of instructing devotees who were coming to him in great numbers for guidance, once prayed to the Goddess Kāli:

“Mother, I am tired of speaking to people. Please give power to Kedār, Girish, Rām, Vijay, and Mahendra to give them the preliminary instruction, so that just a little teaching from me will be enough.”

He was aware, however, of Kedār’s lingering attachment to worldly things and often warned him about it.

Harish

Harish, a young man in affluent circumstances, renounced his family and took shelter with the Master, who loved him for his sincerity, singleness of purpose, and quiet nature. He spent his leisure time in prayer and meditation, turning a deaf ear to the entreaties and threats of his relatives. Referring to his undisturbed peace of mind, the Master would say:

“Real men are dead to the world though, living. Look at Harish. He is an example.”

When one day the Master asked him to be a little kind to his wife, Harish said: “You must excuse me on this point. This is not the place to show kindness. If I try to be sympathetic to her, there is a possibility of my forgetting the ideal and becoming entangled in the world.”

Bhavanāth

Bhavanāth Chatterji visited the Master while he was still in his teens. His parents and relatives regarded Sri Ramakrishna as an insane person and tried their utmost to prevent him from becoming intimate with the Master. But the young boy was very stubborn and often spent nights at Dakshineśwar.

He was greatly attached to Narendra, and the Master encouraged their friendship. The very sight of him often awakened Sri Ramakrishna’s spiritual emotion.

Balarām Bose

Balarām Bose came of a wealthy Vaishnava family. From his youth he had shown a deep religious temperament and had devoted his time to meditation, prayer, and the study of the Vaishnava scriptures. He was very much impressed by Sri Ramakrishna even at their first meeting.

He asked Sri Ramakrishna whether God really existed and, if so, whether a man could realize Him. The Master said: “God reveals Himself to the devotee who thinks of Him as his nearest and dearest. Because you do not draw response by praying to Him once, you must not conclude that He does not exist. Pray to God, thinking of Him as dearer than your very self. He is much attached to His devotees.

He comes to a man even before He is sought. There is none more intimate and affectionate than God.”

Balarām had never before heard God spoken of in such forceful words; every one of the words seemed true to him. Under the Master’s influence he outgrew the conventions of the Vaishnava worship and became one of the most beloved of the disciples. It was at his home that the Master slept whenever he spent a night in Calcutta.

Mahendra or M.

Mahendranāth Gupta, known as “M.”, arrived at Dakshineśwar in February 1882. He belonged to the Brāhmo Samāj and was headmaster of the Vidyāsāgar High School at Śyāmbazār, Calcutta. At the very first sight the Master recognized him as one of his “marked” disciples. Mahendra recorded in his diary Sri Ramakrishna’s conversations with his devotees.

These are the first directly recorded words, in the spiritual history of the world, of a man recognized as belonging in the class of Buddha and Christ. The present volume is a translation of this diary. Mahendra was instrumental, through his personal contacts, in spreading the Master’s message among many young and aspiring souls.

Nāg Mahāshay

Durgācharan Nāg, also known as Nāg Mahāshay, was the ideal householder among the lay disciples of Sri Ramakrishna. He was the embodiment of the Master’s ideal of life in the world, unstained by worldliness. In spite of his intense desire to become a sannyāsi, Sri Ramakrishna asked him to live in the world in the spirit of a monk, and the disciple truly carried out this injunction. He was born of a poor family and even during his boyhood often sacrificed everything to lessen the sufferings of the needy.

He had married at an early age and after his wife’s death had married a second time to obey his father’s command. But he once said to his wife: “Love on the physical level never lasts.

He is indeed blessed who can give his love to God with his whole heart. Even a little attachment to the body endures for several births. So do not be attached to this cage of bone and flesh. Take shelter at the feet of the Mother and think of Her alone. Thus your life here and hereafter will he ennobled.”

The Master spoke of him as a “blazing light”.

He received every word of Sri Ramakrishna in dead earnest. One day he heard the Master saying that it was difficult for doctors, lawyers, and brokers to make much progress in spirituality. Of doctors he said, “If the mind clings to the tiny drops of medicine, how can it conceive of the Infinite?”

That was the end of Durgācharan’s medical practice and he threw his chest of medicines into the Ganges. Sri Ramakrishna assured him that he would not lack simple food and clothing. He bade him serve holy men. On being asked where he would find real holy men, the Master said that the sādhus themselves would seek his company. No sannyāsi could have lived a more austere life than Durgācharan.

Girish Ghosh

Girish Chandra Ghosh was a born rebel against God, a sceptic, a Bohemian, a drunkard.

He was the greatest Bengāli dramatist of his time, the father of the modern Bengāli stage. Like other young men he had imbibed all the vices of the West. He had plunged into a life of dissipation and had become convinced that religion was only a fraud.

Materialistic philosophy he justified as enabling one to get at least a little fun out of life. But a series of reverses shocked him and he became eager to solve the riddle of life. He had heard people say that in spiritual life the help of a guru was imperative and that the guru was to be regarded as God Himself.

But Girish was too well acquainted with human nature to see perfection in a man. His first meeting with Sri Ramakrishna did not impress him at all.

He returned home feeling as if he had seen a freak at a circus; for the Master, in a semi-conscious mood, had inquired whether it was evening, though the lamps were burning in the room. But their paths often crossed, and Girish could not avoid further encounters.

The Master attended a performance in Girish’s Star Theatre. On this occasion, too, Girish found nothing impressive about him. One day, however, Girish happened to see the Master dancing and singing with the devotees. He felt the contagion and wanted to join them, but restrained himself for fear of ridicule. Another day Sri Ramakrishna was about to give him spiritual instruction, when Girish said:

“I don’t want to listen to instructions. I have myself written many instructions. They are of no use to me. Please help me in a more tangible way if you can.”

This pleased the Master and he asked Girish to cultivate faith.

As time passed, Girish began to learn that the guru is the one who silently unfolds the disciple’s inner life.

He became a steadfast devotee of the Master.

He often loaded the Master with insults, drank in his presence, and took liberties which astounded the other devotees. But the Master knew that at heart Girish was tender, faithful, and sincere. He would not allow Girish to give up the theatre. And when a devotee asked him to tell Girish to give up drinking, he sternly replied: “That is none of your business.

He who has taken charge of him will look after him. Girish is a devotee of heroic type. I tell you, drinking will not affect him.” The Master knew that mere words could not induce a man to break deep-rooted habits, but that the silent influence of love worked miracles.

Therefore he never asked him to give up alcohol, with the result that Girish himself eventually broke the habit. Sri Ramakrishna had strengthened Girish’s resolution by allowing him to feel that he was absolutely free.

One day Girish felt depressed because he was unable to submit to any routine of spiritual discipline. In an exalted mood the Master said to him: “All right, give me your power of attorney. Henceforth I assume responsibility for you. You need not do anything.” Girish heaved a sigh of relief.

He felt happy to think that Sri Ramakrishna had assumed his spiritual responsibilities. But poor Girish could not then realize that he also, on his part, had to give up his freedom and make of himself a puppet in Sri Ramakrishna’s hands. The Master began to discipline him according to this new attitude.

One day Girish said about a trifling matter, “Yes, I shall do this.” “No, no!” the Master corrected him. “You must not speak in that egotistic manner. You should say, ‘God willing, I shall do it’.” Girish understood. Thenceforth he tried to give up all idea of personal responsibility and surrender himself to the Divine Will. His mind began to dwell constantly on Sri Ramakrishna. This unconscious meditation in time chastened his turbulent spirit.

The householder devotees generally visited Sri Ramakrishna on Sunday afternoons and other holidays. Thus a brotherhood was gradually formed, and the Master encouraged their fraternal feeling. Now and then he would accept an invitation to a devotee’s home, where other devotees would also be invited. Kirtan would be arranged and they would spend hours in dance and devotional music.

The Master would go into trances or open his heart in religious discourses and in the narration of his own spiritual experiences. Many people who could not go to Dakshineśwar participated in these meetings and felt blessed. Such an occasion would be concluded with a sumptuous feast.

But it was in the company of his younger devotees, pure souls yet unstained by the touch of worldliness, that Sri Ramakrishna took greatest joy. Among the young men who later embraced the householder’s life were Nārāyan, Paltu, the younger Naren, Tejchandra and Purna. These visited the Master sometimes against strong opposition from home.

Purna

Purna was a lad of thirteen, whom Sri Ramakrishna described as an Iśvarakoti, a soul born with special spiritual qualities. The Master said that Purna was the last of the group of brilliant devotees who, as he once had seen in a trance, would come to him for spiritual illumination. Purna said to Sri Ramakrishna during their second meeting,

“You are God Himself incarnated in flesh and blood.” Such words coming from a mere youngster proved of what stuff the boy was made.

Mahimācharan and Pratāp Hazra

Mahimācharan and Pratāp Hazra were two devotees outstanding for their pretentiousness and idiosyncrasies. But the Master showed them his unfailing love and kindness, though he was aware of their shortcomings. Mahimācharan Chakravarty had met the Master long before the arrival of the other disciples. He had had the intention of leading a spiritual life, but a strong desire to acquire name and fame was his weakness. He claimed to have been initiated by Totāpuri and used to say that he had been following the path of knowledge according to his guru’s instructions. He possessed a large library of English and Sanskrit books.

But though he pretended to have read them, most of the leaves were uncut. The Master knew all his limitations, yet enjoyed listening to him recite from the Vedas and other scriptures. He would always exhort Mahimā to meditate on the meaning of the scriptural texts and to practise spiritual discipline. Pratāp Hazra, a middle-aged man, hailed from a village near Kāmārpukur. He was not altogether unresponsive to religious feelings.

On a moment’s impulse he had left his home, aged mother, wife, and children, and had found shelter in the temple garden at Dakshineśwar, where he intended to lead a spiritual life. He loved to argue, and the Master often pointed him out as an example of barren argumentation. He was hypercritical of others and cherished an exaggerated notion of his own spiritual advancement. He was mischievous and often tried to upset the minds of the Master’s young disciples, criticizing them for their happy and joyous life and asking them to devote their time to meditation. The

Master teasingly compared Hazra to Jatila and Kutila, the two women who always created obstructions in Krishna’s sport with the gopis, and said that Hazra lived at Dakshineśwar to “thicken the plot” by adding complications.