Black Magic

Conflict with a dancer of darkness

Lucknow.

Yesterday I left Calcutta by train for Delhi. Shortly before Delhi, a bridge collapsed but I didn’t know about it.

From that point on, the train moved backward to access a different route.

But the speed was so pathetic that a distance which ought to have taken one hour took over twenty. At one rural station, while having a brief walk on the platform, I heard a sudden mixture of shouts and screams. Rocks flew through the air.

The women and children ran to get back into the train.

Not having the vaguest idea of the cause, I joined the ladies in retreat. As I jumped inside, I looked back in time to see a rock strike a man in the forehead. The scene was dotted with tiny pools of red blood.

As the ladies madly pulled down the iron shutters on the windows, I asked, “What’s happening?”

One of them replied, “The passengers are protesting that the train is taking so long.”

India: everything is here—from the crudest vulgarisms to the subtlest sublimities. This leads me into describing today’s episode, the cherry on my dharma samiksha cake.

Tonight was the third night of the new moon. I was busy the first 2 nights and this was the last possible night for doing my kapalika meditation. I had no choice but to break my journey here.

This was my first time in Lucknow and I had no idea where I could find the cremation grounds — the place for burning the dead, which is always located on a river shore.

My questions raised a few eyebrows, but ultimately led me to a quiet corner of the city where I met the servant of a rich businessman.

His master was out of town, so he invited me to rest in his humble quarters. He said he would show me the cremation ground at midnight.

In the meantime, this illiterate man became intrigued by my talk of meditation. I initiated him. We meditated together, and had a simple supper. Later, in the dead of the night, he led me toward the river. As we came closer and closer, however, his legs seemed to drag.

“Sir, that’s it… there,” he said, pointing a shaking finger at the darkness at the end of the road.

“Very good,” I said. “But don’t call me Sir.”

After walking some steps, I noticed he was lagging behind. “Come along,”

I said. “What’s the matter?”

“Sir … ah, Dada, don’t no go, Sir. Bad … verry bad …”

“Nonsense. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” I continued walking. I heard him start panting.

I arrived at the gate. He hung back about 10 feet, shaking.

“Pie pie pleazzze. Sir … no, no!”

“If you don’t want to come in with me. it’s no problem. You can go back to your house, and I’ll go in alone.” “Really, Sir?” “Yes, sure. Why not?”

Saying, “Okay! Okay!”, he spun around and took to his heels, sprinting back down the road so fast that he reminded me of a character in a Charlie Chaplin film.

I turned back to face the gate. I noticed the total absence of sound. Even the leaves were silent. It was, somehow, artificial—too sudden.

This may be interesting, I thought.

I passed through the gate and began walking down the grass-covered steps in the pitch darkness. I could only feel my way forward. Slowly, slowly…

A yell came from below! I halted to listen. A man’s voice, harsh, threatening. I knew enough Hindi to understand his unmistakable warning: “Don’t dare to enter! Get out of here!”

An Avidya Tantric, I thought. A lover of the dark force. A personal-power seeker. A black magician.

Yes this will really be interesting, I thought, smiling.

I stepped down: one step, two, three…

Again he shouted, with a guttural force I had never encountered before. “I’ll kill you, you madman! Begone! Begone!” He swore at me, using very dirty language.

My mind was calm. I was a bit surprised how I was taking it. This was to be a challenge arranged by Baba’s grace. I went on thinking of Him, confident that no power could be greater than His.

I walked further, and at last was the bottom of the stairway.

“I’ll murder you!” he screamed so loudly that I was momentarily stunned.

Then I think he added, “And drink your blood! And eat your flesh! And swallow your bones!”

I had heard that some Avidya Tantrics can consume an entire human body in one sitting. It is one of their systems for extracting power from other Tantrics.

To hell with you, I thought clearly. I felt he could hear my thoughts. And perhaps it was so. For, as I continued on, he made no further sound.

His voice had come from the darkest comer of the place. In that direction, nothing was visible. In other directions though I could perceive vague shapes, I was unable to recognize anything. Then I saw a faint red light.

It was the dying remains of a fire, a few embers. I walked toward it, feeling my way forward with my sandaled feet.

What was that? A movement near the fire … what? … a pair of … yes … a pair of eyes. I walked nearer. What? Not two eyes, four. No, more…. Many many eyes.

Fantastic! I went on walking, thinking of Baba with each step.

Then I made out a form: a dog. No, there were many dogs. Scores of them.

Maybe thirty or forty. As I drew closer, I could see their eyes gleaming with excitement. They were eating the last remains of a dead body. Their teeth glistened. They growled menacingly, facing me. I felt I could hear their thoughts: Don’t come forward anymore!

To hell with you too, I thought in reply.

I continued moving toward them now that I could make out a path which passed near the fire. If I moved in any other direction God knows what I might have fallen into.

They growled louder. Though my body moved on, my thoughts stood still, contemplating Guru. I passed in front of the dogs. They snarled and bared their teeth but let me pass.

As I walked on further, I heard the bubbling of a river. I walked up to it, and put my materials on the sand. This was my spot. After preparing for the meditation, I started dancing Shiva’s Tandava to increase my courage. Immediately the man yelled and the dogs barked. With each step, I leapt high in the air, laughing in transcendental pleasure.

Then I sat. At last, undisturbed by any sound, I easily slipped into deep meditation.

When I finished, I walked back toward the fire. The dogs were still there.

But this time something was different. They looked mad. Their mouths hung open, saliva dripped from their teeth. They growled loudly—very loudly. Perhaps they were angry that I had succeeded in thwarting their efforts to stop me.

Seeing no alternative way, I continued walking toward them. They began moving here and there, and… what? They assumed an ominous shape. In the front was one dog, then two dogs, then three or four, then more—it looked like a triangle or a wedge pointed at me. Suddenly, they charged, growling furiously.

Though I was still thinking of Baba, He put another idea in my brain: I’ll kill the first dog, I thought.

In the very next moment after that thought, even before my hand could reach toward the knife which was in my pocket, the lead dog jumped into the air and let out a human-like scream. He somersaulted backward, smashing into the other dogs. Some of them screamed, others barked in low voices, as they fell apart from each other, confused, hurt, scattered.

I watched it all, from a point deep inside, not from my normal waking consciousness. The dogs looked away from me, whimpering, crying, and lost.

I walked on, came to the stairs and climbed out of this bizarre world. The man and the dogs had fallen into silence. Coming up onto the road, I didn’t bother to look back.

Delhi. I mentioned yesterday’s episode to an old Dada here.

He said, “Yes, those dogs were real dogs. But they were controlled by the mental power of the Avidya Tantric. It’s a common phenomenon. He uses them for many purposes, including both protection and attack.

When you thought to kill the first dog, the man surely caught your thought, and was terrorized. If you had killed that dog, who was moving on the thought currents of the man, it would have caused him great harm. It might even have killed him. That’s why there was such a reaction. Anyway it’s Baba’s play. He arranges such experiences for those who need them. If we surrender to Him. we pass the test. Of course the tests never stop.

But. then, neither does His grace.”