It is only when you remove the 'I' , the ego, that you can destroy HABIT!
He spared nothing that might bind us without our knowledge. In his infinite compassion, he showed us no shallow pity. Like a master trainer, he threw us upon the utter insecurity of life.
Money, social status, family ties, jobs, the million pulls of daily living – these we had already given up gladly when we sought refuge at his feet. From the day we entered his care, he worked on us relentlessly – hunting down the ego in its still more secret recesses, hidden so deep in our unconscious that we didn't even know it lived and fed on us…
Personal belongings were the first to go. Other than a toothbrush and a couple of sets of clothes, we owned nothing. We needed to own nothing, for everything was provided in reasonable abundance. Food was nutritious, delicious and plentiful. Fruits or sweets sent by devotees were shared equally among all ashramites. One day, when a new ashramite was found to be hoarding pickles from home, THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM silently emptied the contents of the bottle on the kitchen doorstep. That was the last time
anyone attempted that kind of thing!
The next victims were space and time.
'Private' space, of course, we didn't get – or want. Night after night, we slept in any room that was available, often in the dining hall or office if there were too many patients or guests. Nobody minded because it was just so much fun.
Handling THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM's upside-down time schedules was tougher! By and by, we got used to working, eating and sleeping at the oddest hours without a sense of disorientation. On many days, he deliberately made us go without our meals. Though the funny thing was, doing this actually hurt him more than it hurt us! The youngest ashramites were barely fifteen, and we knew THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM hated being harsh on them. To make up, on his trips to various places, he would unfailingly bring back sweets and other offerings made by devotees, saying,
The children will be waiting to see what I've brought them! No father could have been more thoughtful!
Finally – identity itself! We knew it had to go, but it was terrible. In bits and pieces we were losing it, sometimes striking out blindly against THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM's 'cruel' ways, sometimes bowing gracefully to his superior wisdom (but more often the former!)
He would ask us sweetly which jobs we loved doing and which we didn't - and then gaily allot us the ones we hated or feared most. If you hated speaking in public, you could be sure of being put in training to take the Ananda Yoga classes! If you loved working in the garden, it was the computer for you.
So many times he was to remind us,
I don't give you freedom of the senses. I give you freedom from the senses!
Continuously learning, unlearning and relearning, doing and non-doing, someday we hope to slip into what THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM calls the ideal state -
Be like water! Be soft, liquid, receptive. Flow without resistance. Adapt unconditionally. Become a wellspring of love, of delight, of Ananda! In the Arms of the Master
On special occasions, or on the evenings when he didn't need to go to the city center, THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM performed the evening aarati himself.
Those were the moments when time stood still at the ashram.
In the soft stillness of early twilight, in the rustic space of Anand Sabha, rows of brass lamps would be lit and waiting for THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM's touch. The air would be heavy with jasmine and incense. Ashramites in white would patter about on silent feet, whispering instructions to each other. The elaborate pooja arrangements would be ready…
A swirl of saffron at the door, and THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM would be with us in the darkened hall.
The air would resonate with his chanting of Brahmanandam…
Then the conch would be blown, the aarati music would strike up, and THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM would take up the first lamp – to begin the enchanting dance of lights.
Lamp after lamp would swing in graceful arcs before the idol of Nataraja (the Dancing Shiva), oblation after oblation would be offered to the Divine by THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM's own hand, in beautiful harmony with the splendid rhythm of the aarati.
Like luminous flowers in the breeze, they would sway gracefully in his hands – giant chandelier lamps that the rest of us could barely lift.
How did he manage it? Like everything else he did, we guessed.
Outside, night would be falling rapidly.
Inside, THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM's robes would take on the awesome shades of fire.
Uncannily like a flame, his tall lithe figure would sway and dance with the graceful motions of the aarati.
How much like a mystery - now in light, now in shadow! - his face would be revealed and hidden and revealed to us again, with the swinging of the lamps in his hand. Eyes aglow with ecstasy, in deep communion with the Divine – he would be lost to us.
And something would stir inside us too, at these solemn moments. Bodies swaying to the resonant notes of the aarati, thought and breath would fall still for a moment, as we entered spontaneously into prayer. Somewhere a pair of eyes would be glistening with tears, somewhere a muffled sob would rise.
At the end of half an hour, the aarati would reach its crescendo, and culminate in a triumphant burst of song. Then - silence.
Lit with THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM's radiant light, we would stand in deep inner joy, still and luminous like so many devotional lamps. Our hearts would be brimming over…
Now our turn has come to worship…
We have come to worship you, O Nithya – with ourselves!
Was there anything THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM didn't delight in? He plunged into Life with the buoyant joy of a child. There was nothing that was too trivial to merit his eager attention. The blooming of the golden marigolds outside Laughing Temple, the arrival of a cute pair of geese on campus (an offering from a devotee), the first rain of the year… he reveled in the little-big delights of daily living.
No one who hasn't seen THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM at play can understand the infectious joy of his presence. (And I don't mean his leela, for who can presume to understand his Divine play?)
We were lucky to capture him in his most riotous moods. One Diwali (The Festival of Lights) day, soon after sunset, I was surprised (and perturbed) to see devotees arriving in the ashram with loads of firecrackers. That was my first Diwali with THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM, and I had no idea what was going on.
Noisy celebrations in the ashram? What will THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM say?
Unnecessary worry, that.
When the time came to burst the crackers, I found that it was THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM who led the group of animated youngsters! The whole bash had been his idea, I discovered later.
Whooping and dancing with the bravest of them, he sent rocket after rocket into the sky, vied with the boys in holding lighted pinwheels in his hand, bullied the shy and the elderly into joining in, and generally had a rollicking time. Suddenly, before our eyes, he was transformed into a child. He was certainly the brightest light I saw that Diwali!
What can we call it but Divine humour, that the Formless should so revel in the beauty of Form?
At his very first photosession, THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM quickly struck up a love-affair with the camera. He would pose uncomplainingly for hours, sweetly following the photographer's requests to turn-left-turn-right. THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM was astonishingly photogenic - I guess it was his complete un-selfconsciousness, the ease before the camera that we see so rarely in adults - that made such a difference.
And when the photos came, he would lock himself up in his room to delight over them in private! Who could presume to understand his whimsical ways?!
It was his own idea to create a new kind of robe for himself, to wear on special occasions.
He had taken a fancy to the elegant gold-bordered sarees of Kerala, and happened to mention it to someone. The news spread rapidly, thanks to the highly active ladies' grapevine – and soon THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM was swamped with Kerala sarees from his closest devotees. These he personally dyed ochre, and even devised an exquisite style of draping them. We would wait for him to emerge from his kuteer on festive occasions, just to catch a glimpse of his regal figure in that splendid robe. No woman could have done such justice to that delightful garment, the saree!
He was candid about his fondness for 'jewellery' – if one could call it that. The truth is, he cared for nothing but rudraaksh malas (rosaries), but of these had a sizeable collection, of all possible sizes and 'faces'. He would source them from as far away as Tibet, and show them off to us as if they were pure gold! They were, too – in terms of their therapeutic value.
Like a child totaling up his daily booty of marbles, he would sit for hours counting, sorting and stringing the sacred beads.
Such, indeed, are the amusements of the gods!
Yet time and again he warned us,
Don't get caught in my form! This form you see does not exist. When you lose sense of your own boundary, you will lose sense of mine. Then you will see me as I really am - as pure energy - as Nothing!
But how could we believe him? Mesmerized as we were, by the enchanting play of his form!
The crinkly-eyed smile, the sudden laughter, the joyous abandon of dance, the childlike charm – could we hand over these incomparable treasures to that wily witch, Maya?
Like children, we guarded jealously the delightful trinkets of his form in our hearts, even knowing every moment that they were false gems.
One day, in a moment of rare intimacy, I told him playfully,
You know Swami, you're behaving just like a five-yearold!
I am five years old, ma!, he told me in dead seriousness.
I laughed, watching him.
Who was he, this boy-god who was watching me intently, challenging me to ask that very question?
He might have been eight or eighty, man or woman… I simply could not fathom him!
Who – are you?, I faltered, gazing at him.
I should have known better than to ask – for THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM was in a mood to reveal himself.
Even as his eyes looked into mine, without moving a muscle, his face took on a terrible grandeur – unknown, unknowable!
In that moment, in the dark depths of his eyes, I seemed to sense towering mountains, roaring seas, whirling galaxies – I know not what!!
I saw nothing, but I saw them all.
Suddenly I was seized with raw fear.
Oh please, don't show me! I don't want to see, I don't want to see!, I wailed pathetically, covering my eyes in fright. It's okay, ma. I'm normal now… see, I'm normal now!, he reassured me.
It was a few minutes before I gathered the courage to look into his face again. A mischievous boy with dancing eyes was smiling at me once more.
But dared I trust that smile anymore?
Why did you ask?, he teased me gently.
I was still shaking.
What was it, Swami?
See ma, to move about in the world, I need to make use of a thin layer of ego. When you asked me, I just dropped that ego for a moment, that's all. In the moment when you sensed my boundarilessness, you sensed your own also. That's why your ego felt so much fear. If you had waited just a moment, I would have revealed my vishwaroopam (cosmic form) to you. But silly girl, you had no courage!
At that moment, I had no wish to possess that sort of courage! – for who knows where it might have led me?
Every moment on the brink of a revelation What is this life we live with you, O THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM!
~ 17th January 2004 ~
On the morning of his 27th birthday (Jayanthi), he summoned all the ashramites into his kuteer. Some of us had never been in there before, and we didn't know how to respond to the honour. Selfconsciously proud, like schoolchildren summoned to the principal's office for a trophy, we filed in quietly (and excitedly!) Swamiji was seated on his bed, looking breathtaking in the elegant robe that he wore with such simple dignity.
When he spoke, his voice was a flood of love, of compassion.
I wanted to meet you first, before I met the rest of the world.
I wanted to thank you all…
We were astonished. What was Swamiji saying? He, who had given us everything..!
Swamiji continued:
You are the people who have given your lives for me, for my mission! Without you, where would I be? Where would this mission be?
Where, indeed! As if Swamiji needed the paltry services of us mortals to direct his all-encompassing mission! We knew only too well that none of this was true – except his overwhelming compassion, that flowed towards us as love and gratitude.
One by one, Swamiji drew us close and gave us his blessings. To each, he whispered, Come, my beloved one… thank you…my love and blessings…
He placed a sacred rudraaksh mala around each of our necks.
That day, Swamiji's blessing was a downpour of Love – calling up an answering flood in our hearts. The moment his touch fell upon us, we burst into sobs without knowing why.
How could we bear the force of his divine Love?!
There was not a person in the room who wasn't crying. Then, looking up at his face, we were shaken to see – the Master's own eyes were glistening with tears! What could we say?
How much love you carry for us, O THE SUPREME PONTIFF OF HINDUISM BHAGAWAN SRI NITHYANANDA PARAMASHIVAM – and how foolish we are, that we don't know even how to receive! Have we forgotten the Divine so completely, that we cannot even recognize the depth of your Love?
What a flood of compassion struggles in your heart – how will you not give, even though we are so undeserving! Like the ripe fruit, like the raincloud that cannot bear its own burden, you continue to shower upon us, unaware as we are!
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Appendix