SRI ANIRVAN

LETTERS FROM A BAUL

LIFE WITHIN LIFE

Compiled
by
Lizelle Reymond

OVERMAN FOUNDATION
KOLKATA
Publisher : Anurag Banerjee
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[email protected].

First edition published by Sri Aurobindo Pathamandir, Kolkata, in 1983.

Revised edition published by Overman Foundation, Kolkata, on 8 July 2018.

© Sanjoy Biswas and Bratati Mukhopadhyay

No part of this book may be used or reproduced

in any form without the written permission of the
publisher except in the case of brief quotation
embodied in critical articles and reviews or for research.

ISBN : 978-93-83165-53-1

Printed at Overman Foundation.

Price : Rs. 300/-

 CONTENTS

Editor‘s Note i
Preface ii-iv
PART I
THE PRINCIPLES

A State of Sahaja 1
Sāmkhya 8
Laws—Powers 22
Masters and Disciples 42
Method and Teaching 52
Observation of Oneself 64
Automatism 76
Consciousness 79
Sensations 82
Emotions 90
Knowledge 94
Life—Death 101

PART II
FACING REALITY

Facing Reality 109

PART III
RAMBLING THOUGHTS

Rambling Thoughts 126

APPENDIX
I—Sādhanā 173
II—Letters 177
III—Bauls of Bengal 191
IV—Mystic Songs 196

About the Author 223

About Lizelle Reymond 224
 (i)

Editor’s Note

―Letters from a Baul‖ of Sri Anirvan is a new edition with a dimension

of his Sāmkhya-thought. This book was first compiled by Lizelle Reymond
and published by Sri Aurobindo Pathamandir in 1983.
Madam Lizelle Reymond (1899-1994), a renowned European
philosopher, first came to India with her husband Jean Herbert in 1937 in
order to deeply explore the Indian culture and heritage. After few years
they returned to Europe and planned to translate all the collated materials
on Indian Philosophy and religion.
Reymond again came to India in 1947 after Independence and had a lot
of experiences (1947-1953), which she admirably described in her two
books—‗My Life with a Brahmin Family‘ (1958) and ‗To Live Within‘
(1969).
After many years Reymond herself compiled the book ‗Letters from a
Baul‘ from the Part II of the book ‗To Live Within‘—mostly based on the
letters of Sri Anirvan, a poet, philosopher and yogi and the recorded
conversations that took place during her staying in the ‗Haimavati Ashram‘
of Sri Anirvan in Almora; also the meetings with Sri Anirvan held in
Assam and Bengal. She added here two new chapters—‗Facing Reality‘
and ‗Rambling Thoughts‘—two essays of Sri Anirvan. There are four more
chapters in that book—‗To Live Within‘, which were excluded by
Reymond herself.
Here, in this new edition of ‗Letters from a Baul‘ we have included those
chapters, as they are very important aspects of the Sāmkhya-thought of Sri
Anirvan.
Many thanks and gratitude to Anurag Banerjee, the Director of
Overman Foundation, for his kind help to publish this new edition.

8 July, 2018 Sanjoy Biswas

Kolkata Bratati Mukhopadhyay
 (ii)

PREFACE

This book consists chiefly of letters from Sri Anirvan to Lizelle Reymond
and of recorded conversations that took place during their numerous
meetings, in Almora, in Assam and Bengal. A few of Sri Anirvan‘s essays
have been added, as well as ―Rambling Thoughts‖ shared with his
devoted students.
Before his death he read the present text carefully and revised it by
shortening certain things or adding what he felt was needed to express
better his own ideas. In his lifetime he neither taught nor wrote about his
ideas in a dogmatic way but spoke very directly to seekers or passers-by
who came to him with their problems, which filled their minds and hearts
full of anxiety.
Sri Anirvan was a Baul, a solitary man with no ashram surrounding
him, who received in exactly the same way a cloth-merchant from the near-
by hamlet and a Member of Parliament residing in the District. His
approach was very simple. He wanted no sign of veneration. He knew how
to listen without haste, even when his available time was limited. One felt
in him a widely cultured man, and this impression was heightened by his
attitude of respect toward his visitors.
He always spoke with reference to the Science of Sāmkhya, not the
philosophical Sāmkhya as taught by Vijnāna Bhikshu in the 15th century,
but that Sāmkhya which is the essence of life—like a pure Voice coming
from the Vedas and the Upanishads, revealing a gnostic wisdom
concerning the Fullness of Great Nature and the order of the Cosmic Laws.
He made immediately clear to his visitors that to live in accordance with
the Cosmic Laws, which are all-powerful, involves following a long course
of inner discipline aimed at cultivating mental concentration and giving a
right direction to the will. This wisdom is in fact a mystical approach which
derives from the primal substance.
Sri Anirvan was a Bengali, born the eldest son of Sri Raj Chandra Dhar,
in 1896, at Mymensing, in the Eastern part of the country.1 At the age of
thirteen he already wanted to follow his father, who had joined the vast
Ashram of Swami Nigamananda in Assam; but the Guru of that Ashram


The title ‗Rambling Thoughts‘ was given by Sri Anirvan to these talks.
1 Now in Bangladesh.
 (iii)

decided that he should have a university career in order to be able to serve

the Saraswat Sangha to the best of his ability.
Accordingly he went from Dacca, where he first studied, to Calcutta
University and there, in 1918, he got the title of Kāvyatīrtha, the highest
degree in Vedic and Panini Grammars. His return to the Saraswat Sangha
was a festive day for all the disciples. During each vacation that he spent at
the Ashram, he had been for them all ―the beloved poet‖ illuminating the
talks of the Guru, and making the work on themselves seen like labouring
on the land to bring forth a garden of fruits and flowers.
In time he became Swami Nirvanananda Saraswati and served his Guru
faithfully. But after a number of years, one night—with the blessing of his
Guru who knew that he would never bow to any other darshana—he left
the Ashram with only his staff in hand.
As a Baul, he took the name of Anirvan. It was no doubt Nirvacanīya
becoming, with an ―a‖ privative, a-nir-vac-anīya, which corresponds
syllable by syllable to in-ex-plic-able in English, the root meaning being
clear in the former and figurative in the latter. In general, people called him
―Mahārāj,‖ and those who knew him: ―servant of the Rishis.‖
Although he never spoke of his past, through his letters we learn of
some striking incidents in his life. As a Baul he simply disappeared,
becoming a traditional wanderer through the Himalayas. He lived for some
years in a cave at the foot of the Kamakhya Hill in Assam. Later he was
discovered apparently as an anonymous ―man walking through the market
place.‖ This was in Delhi where, while working as a tutor, he was
translating the books of Rama Tirtha because he thought that the Bengali
needed to listen to his voice. He was reputed to have become a consultant
on many difficult philosophical problems posed by scriptures ranging from
the Bhagavad Gita to the Gathas of old Iranian Prophets.
Still later, some people from Ranchi called on him for help. They wanted
to have a few chapters of The Life Divine of Sri Aurobindo translated into
Bengali. This huge work had been written originally in English. Fascinated
as he was by the text, Sri Anirvan accepted on condition that their Guru, Sri
Aurobindo, would agree. The result was that Sri Anirvan retired for four
years to Almora in order to give his whole time to translating the entire
work.
Against his will, many people, including refugees, knocked at his door.
They harassed him so much that a very simple kind of life was organized
around him to protect him; it was devoid of encouragements to stay!
 (iv)

When, in due course, Sri Anirvan came to translate the ―Third Mandala
of the Vedas,‖ his work became even more intense. He needed more
helpers as well as complete isolation. It was at this point that I, Lizelle
Reymond, among a few others, came into his circle.
At first I felt completely disoriented. We lived near his dwelling in small
houses near the forest. In complete solitude the importance of each action
was evaluated and accepted as a model of inner discipline on a wider scale.
The previous kind of work I had done had equipped me so all I had to do
was simply to conform.
To meet him, to work with him, and to attend our gathering every
evening to prepare the work of the next day, was an invaluable teaching in
itself. At night, we sat around a bowl of rice and a cup of milk. Very little
was said. But a real spiritual atmosphere was created. No formal teaching
was given but an awareness within oneself became a definite part of one‘s
being.
This stage of life, however, was not to last. We knew that one day he
was going to say: ―The work is over. I shall be gone in less than three
days.‖ And so it happened.
As a Baul he was a completely free man. All that remains are his letters,
which contain the kind of advice a Baul can give:
―The days that you were here appear so soft through the fading light of
the past. We can always flit away to the Infinite through the door of the
inner being. Can the march over hills and dales ever end? Remember that
expansion is not doing anything, it is only being and becoming. The Spirit
is and the manifestation does. It grows from the centre outwards just like
the sprouting of a seed, quiescent, and yet the initiator of all movement.
Remember that you are both Spirit and manifestation in yourself. That is
why I am repeating: Be yourself.‖
The book appears thanks to the Pathamandir of Calcutta whose
members were intimately associated with Sri Anirvan. Whenever he came
to the plains or stayed in Calcutta, he gave regular lectures and readings of
The Life Divine, Savitri and Upanishads.

Lizelle Reymond
The teaching of Shri Anirvan on Sāmkhya is given here from the notes of
conversations and a number of extracts from his letters. The text has been
revised by him. I asked him: ―Can it be understood?‖ ―Yes‖, he replied, ―by
one who needs it. This book is about the ‗Life‘ of which we spoke. He who
seeks the Light, understands Life. It cannot be dissected without mutilating
or killing it. It can only be lived, in its complexity and in its simplicity.‖

Narendrapur, March 1968.

 PART I

THE PRINCIPLES
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 1

A STATE OF SAHAJA

The Kaṭha Upanishad says: ―The aim is to attain pure Existence (sat).‖ He
who has realised this has a clear understanding of what reality is. Pure
Existence is the Truth beyond life and death.1 That you exist is a fact! And
your existence is nothing but a manifestation of that which is universal and
transcendental. So your existence becomes oneness (kaivalya) in which there
exist the two principles of Sāmkhya: Purusha, which is the spirit, and
Prakriti, which is ―that which is manifested.‖ Spiritually cannot be
acquired; it can only be derived from these two principles.
Open yourself up to the sun of pure Existence (sat) as the bud of a flower
opens to the light. Then the Truth will flow into you. Impatience spoils
everything! There is a Baul song, which says: ―The stars, the suns, and the
moons are never impatient. Silently, they follow the stream of pure
Existence, as the true Guru does.‖
Now, this pure Existence, lived with a wide-open heart amid all the
circumstances of life, is in itself the state of sahaja — a state in which the
mind is freed from all duality. The motionless mind knows ―That‖ which
has neither beginning nor end, which is free in its very essence.
Sahaja is a yoga for the same reason as all other yogas. It is a path that
leads to the discovery of ―That with which one is born,‖ the pure being
living in the temple of the heart.
Sahaja can be defined as follows: ―That which is born in you, that which
is born with you,‖ a state of pure essence. The body, the spirit, the impulse
of life and intelligence are all there. Nothing must be rejected or mutilated,
so that ―one and the same thing‖ can be consciously established.
That is why Sāmkhya, which is the path by which the state of sahaja is
attained, speaks a great deal of the waking state that is the normal level of
all activity. It also speaks of the state of consciousness interiorized in
dreams, which later becomes the state of deep sleep. The fourth state, that
of inner awakening, is the mark of deep sleep. Shankaracharya2, instructs
us about these four different states in his philosophy.

1 RV. X, 127.2.
NOTE: In accordance with the custom, Purusha is always written with a capital P in this text.
Prakriti has a capital P when indicating a higher Prakriti and has a small p when indicating a
lower prakriti.
2 The greatest master of Advaita philosophy (788-822 A. D.).
 ■ A State of Sahaja ■ 2

In sahaja, there is a fifth state, that of a totally awakened consciousness; it

contains in itself the four states of wakefulness, dreaming, deep sleep, and
the state in which deep sleep exists along with the other four states. There
is no longer any differentiation between the various states, all of them
being unified at a single point.
From that moment on, everything becomes your food. Everything is one
and the same thing in you. Then you are faced with a new task in the realm
of sensation and relaxation. It becomes a question of forgetting oneself, of
voluntarily obliterating oneself, which is a letting go in a region that is very
subtle and hard to discover.1 Voluntary forgetting is a task that is just as
difficult as accustoming one‘s mental faculty to remembering the details of
self-observation. It is only approached much later, when memory has
become submissive and fulfils its true role.
This is slow work and a true discipline in itself. The effort to forget
ceases when the contraction that determines the field of work disappears.
Without contraction there can be no directed effort. When this effort is
recognized, the contraction disappears and is at once replaced by a very
special kind of attention coming from very far away. This attention is
different to what is going on and yet it watches closely. It gives no orders
and does not know impatience. It simply watches how Great Nature
(Prakriti) operates, for even in the subtle domain of voluntary forgetfulness
prakriti has still to be reckoned with.
To wish to forget is, in fact, impossible. Forgetting proceeds from a
principle without any form. When your being is invaded by a movement
coming from the heart and the mind, you are just like an empty vibrating
bell filled by the echo of a sound coming from elsewhere.
Accept within yourself the idea that you have only twenty-four hours to
live. Let those hours be full of clarity to help you to accomplish your task.
Do not allow them to be tarnished. They have been entrusted to you. Those
twenty-four hours are your eternity. In the face of this three-dimensional
day, it is impossible to imagine the future. Do not attempt to stretch the
time, nor to divide it, nor to lengthen or shorten it. Everything is so full and
at the same time so empty!

1 This means a forgetting of the ordinary ―I‖, that is, the superficial structure of the
individual.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 3

The discipline of sahaja begins with the acceptance of the whole of life
just as it is. The heat opens up to receive it and to live it. As for intelligence
and logic, they will seek in Sāmkhya the necessary strength for finding the
key to the enigma of existence. Sahaja then appears like a path illumined by
the experience of inner being.
In practice, Sāmkhya is a technique to realize the expansion of sahaja.
Neither the one nor the other takes into account gods, demons, paradises,
hells, or formalism of any kind, in the course of inner effort. The point
where Sāmkhya and sahaja converge is in the whole of life, which becomes
in itself the object of meditation. Therefore serenity within oneself and a
right relationship with life and one‘s fellow beings becomes a way of being.
He who practices a spiritual discipline (sādhanā) will use Sāmkhya to
learn how to look at the movements of Great Nature in all its
manifestations without interfering with its movements, to recognize its
imprint on everything and to observe the ability of prakriti to pass
imperceptibly from one plane of consciousness to another. Not to react to
any of its movements would, in fact, mean, to live in the very heart of life
without being affected by it. But at the beginning, this state cannot be taken
for granted, for it is not merely by observing the movements of prakriti that
one becomes its master.
The disciple will turn his gaze upon himself and will discover, although
he had never before seen it, the countless inner disturbances created by
everything in him that says, ―I like and I do not like; I want and I do not
want; it‘s right and it‘s wrong,‖ and so forth, which prevent him from
noticing that in himself there is a stormy prakriti identical to the one that
exists around him.
How can he dissociate himself from that prakriti which until he dies will
always be for him his life, his mind and his body with all their functions?
At this time traditional Rājayoga comes to help. This yoga, through its
graduated disciplines, brings the body to a state of conscious joy, one‘s life
to a state of equanimity comparable to complete rest and one‘s mind to
ecstasy (samādhi).1 In this state of equanimity, all the automatic movements
of prakriti and its unconscious play can be perceived. Always, in following
this inner discipline, the ideal of Sāmkhya is to learn how to stand back,
and the ideal of yoga is vairāgya, which means to learn how to observe
oneself dispassionately and without judgment.

1
The state of ecstasy comprising different degrees.
 ■ A State of Sahaja ■ 4

Long and meticulous work is indispensible in order to discover that

emotion of any kind creates a passionate movement which takes man out
of himself. In this case yoga teaches how to check any impetuous movement
by emptying the mind of all images. The superabundant energy is thus
brought back to the self. But the purpose of Sāmkhya is that this energy,
having returned to the self, should also be directed consciously towards the
outer life, that it should become openly active without disturbing the inner
or outer prakriti. In this way life-energy is purified. It becomes creative. Of
course, this state can only last for a few minutes, and the ordinary man
immediately reappears with his train of habitual reactions within the play
of manifestation.
This moment of illumination (sattva) and this word is right even if the
moment be brief, is a look into oneself and at the same time is a look
outside oneself (śivadṛṣṭi). Symbolically, it can be compared to the piercing
look of Purusha into himself and upon the active Prakriti around him. To
accept Prakriti in its totality is pure sahaja. In a subtle manner, beyond ―I
like and I don‘t like,‖ it brings a possibility of modification in the densities
of the intrinsic qualities (guṇas)1 of the lower prakriti and shows the path
by which a higher Prakriti can be reached.

Learn to return voluntarily to what is fundamentally primitive in you,

carefully hidden and disguised in the realm of instinct, intuition and sex.
This conscious return will produce unsuspected reactions and induce
outbursts of all your dormant impatience. If you were a tree, they would all
of them be branches issuing from the same trunk. One cannot cut off one
branch without damaging the whole; cutting several of them would cause
the death of the tree. All the branches together form the canopy of foliage.
In the wind, the foliage is in harmony with the whole forest. It is in the
foliage that the birds nest and sing. May this picture help you in your
spiritual discipline, even if it is very hard. If something obscure lingers in
you, it means that there must still be an attachment somewhere, just as in
the tree there are knots which hinder the rising of the sap.

You can absorb ideas and make them your own. You can freely create
ways to express them. That is what the force in you can do. Perhaps I can

1 See page 12.

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 5

help you to discover your own power but only by suggestion. If you open
yourselves up and discover who you are, I shall be pleased.
A great tapasyā awaits you. This word means personal austerity and
voluntary discipline.
The expression ―voluntary discipline‖ connects two ideas: that of heat
and that of light. These are clearly the creative energy and the wisdom so
often described in the Upanishads as being together the first manifestation
of the creative urge. One of the Upanishads even goes so far as to say that it
is a radiation devoid of any specific characteristic, that is, without form
(alingaṃ).
True tapasyā means to be one with the creative power of Prakriti. It
brings us close to Great Nature as she really is. One voluntarily drops all
accumulations, all that has been acquired, and returns to what is simple
and innate. Austerities, both mental and physical, to which many a seeker
subjects himself, are only the fumbling means adopted by ignorant souls
wishing to attain that entirely natural end.
Allow your power to radiate, and may this radiation be your discipline.
Hear the resonance of this call in you and, without tension of any sort, have
the courage to plunge into the depths of your soul. Do not listen to the
sophisticated sayings of the wiseacres who teach with pomp and
ostentation.
Understood in this manner, tapasyā is the progressive development of
limitless intuition. There are two kinds of tapasyā. One in which I always
say ―yes‖— tantras, and one in which I always say ―no‖ – Vedanta. The
true seeker who says ―yes‖ is a born poet, for he finds himself obliged to
translate everything into exalted thoughts and language. His poetry plays
the role of a science of transmutation.

In sahaja there is a close correspondence between the Baul and the Sufi,
provided that the ―underground current‖ of spiritual life brings the mind
of each one to grasp the secret and to live it in his own light.
As soon as one attempts to describe Hinduism in terms of circles and
cycles, and Sufism in terms of four degrees, one is lost. Immediately one
enters the world of division and quarrels.
How is it that the Sufis have discovered the content of the Upanishads,
that freedom of which they sing, when, in fact, the Upanishads are unknown
to most of them? Each one, at his appointed time, must break the shell in
 ■ A State of Sahaja ■ 6

which he is enclosed, so as to penetrate into knowledge; just as a fully

formed chick must break out of the eggshell if it wishes to live its life.
In the final stage, there is no longer any discipline but only an
uninterrupted consciousness of being. If the entire being is immersed in
sahaja (the Sufi calls it fanā), I ―know‖ how, in myself, without efforts the
current of a right relationship is established, which dissolves everything
false or halting in my relationship with myself and with my fellow men.
The Bauls and the Sufis tread the same path in life and drink from the
same eternal source; they are above every kind of sectarianism. They do
not practice any formal initiation; they speak, however, of two kinds of
initiation.
One is compared to the sun touching the bud of a flower, inviting it to
open. A power is transfused from the Master to his disciple simply by
radiation, without ritual or words. That is all. The bud of the flower retains
all its individuality.
The other initiation, at a still higher level, is compared to the sun which
absorbs the dew into itself. At a glance the Master recognizes the real
disciple, whether he be a Baul or a Sufi. His look captures the reflection of
the disciple‘s being as in a mirror; then the eyes of the Master and the eyes
of the disciple close. But the current between them will continue to flow
eternally. This is called the process of saturation.
But the time comes when the Master becomes an obstacle to the
flowering of the disciple. The cult of the person falls away, and also the cult
of devotion to ideas. The question arises, ―Why do I obey?‖ And the
answer is, ―The Guru of the Guru of my Guru is walking ahead on the
same path as I. Can I reach the source by myself alone, making do without
any intermediaries?‖
That is the beginning of a long and undeclared war with many painful
stages against the Guru. The true Guru will be aware of this struggle. He
watches closely the disordered movements of the disciple. His kindness is
such that he speaks with his disciple about the one who walks ahead, about
the Laws of working on oneself; yet he does nothing to attenuate the
struggle which has begun.
At the end of this stage there is sahaja when the disciple finally opens the
eyes of his heart and understands that he has gone astray. On this subject
Keshab Das1 has said, ―I discover that I am what I was, but between the

1 16th century.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 7

two there are only complications. Now, I see…‖. The aim is the Truth,
through which the unity of all things can be perceived. This truth is sahaja.
The Master of a Baul or of a Sufi teaches nothing directly; he merely
stimulates his disciple by suggestions. Once initiated, the disciple feels that
a force drives him forward, but he will always have to struggle alone in the
world around him, in the very heart of all life‘s complications.

My one ambition has been to learn to speak without words. That is, to
be the smoke of a fire that others do not see, or the sound of music that
others do not hear. It has taken me fifty years. Two ideas have always been
in my mind. The first of these was to be the traveller who follows the trail
with a precise goal: to touch God and to serve him. The second was the
idea of expansion: to know how to flow out like a gas without any
destination, for the rishis have said, ―Those who have attained pure
Existence (sat) become the One.‖
So many people come to see me who only want words! If I do not speak,
they are upset. So I speak in a poetic way, and that keeps them occupied
for a while.
But where are those to whom I can entrust a task in life, one single task
that would be the expression of their spiritual fervour? If you are not a
ploughman, what do you know about ploughing? If you are not a man of
action, what do you know about a task to be fulfilled? In the seed-bed of
thought, action, prayer, and meditation coexist in the sensation of being,
and action is not what men have made of it — something subjective and
hypocritical, far removed from the centre of being.
You do not know that all creation is born of an action? To live is also an
action. To live could be the fact of acknowledging the ―Man in the temple
of the heart‖ and serving him perfectly.
 ■ Sāmkhya ■ 8

SĀMKHYA

Sāmkhya is, above all, the practical philosophy transmitted by Kapila,

who lived in the far distant past.1
Sāmkhya gives a clear idea of the ―Purusha—Spirit‖ and of ―Prakriti—
manifestation‖ represented by ―Great Nature.‖ The latter is manifested
essentially in a mechanical manner, like all the cosmic Laws which govern
us.
I know how difficult it is to explain deep spiritual values. That is why I
think the best link between the things of the beyond with the things of this
world is that of practical psychology. Psychology speaks a universally
known language.
Sāmkhya is the only religious philosophy that speaks a psychological
language, hence a scientific language. Everything can be explained from
the point of view of Sāmkhya. It is the basis of the Buddhist piṭakas,2 as well
as of the Sufi precepts. It is no more concerned with rites or with dogmas
than are the Upanishads.
Nothing exists, in any realm, that by deduction does not proceed from a
higher Law. There comes a time when one must submit to such a deductive
process. This process is pure Sāmkhya; it is the inexorable descent into
Prakriti, under pressure from above of the great Will. From that moment
onwards everything functions in a mechanical way: the higher intelligence
(buddhi), the soul, the ego, all the centres of the human being, each one with
its natural intelligence. The mechanicity functions from the moment when
connections start between the different levels of the being: its inner organs
of perception (indriya) or senses, its constituent elements (bhūtaṣ) and
densities.
When ―he who knows‖ effects the descent voluntarily, and reaches the
lowest point, that is to say, the nadir, his being becomes radiant. At that
moment he enters consciously into the discipline of a clearly conscious
upward movement.
Man is by nature inductive; he gropes his way forward and goes blindly
along. Woman, on the other hand, is by nature actively passive, for her

1R.V. X, 27-6.
2Teaching of the Buddha in Pāli. Collected by his disciples a hundred years after his
death.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 9

function is to create the child. From her are born husband and father. All
manifestations, mind, soul, life, matter, have come from her. In that respect
she is the ―Divine Mother,‖ the foundation from which the slow ascent
towards the source begins.
It is said in the Bhāgavataṃ1 that, at the time when Sāmkhya arrived on
the earth, a woman was the first to benefit by it. This woman was called
Devāhūti.2 She represents the higher Prakriti. Devāhūti realized this
knowledge to its ultimate limit. Having rejected everything that was not
the pure and luminous ―I,‖ she is said to have wandered in nature,
completely naked, radiating light. At the moment of death, she
transformed herself voluntarily into an inexhaustible river in order to
water the whole earth and allow hundreds of thousands of beings to
quench their thirst for knowledge.
The spiritual science of Sāmkhya can make a saint out of a man who no
longer has any faith in God or in himself.
In the beginning, Sāmkhya appears to be appallingly dry and lacking in
love, for imagination and any kind of emotion are strictly set aside. But
when the inner being has recovered his lost equilibrium and discovered the
equilibrium which he had thus far never felt, he is nourished by a pure love
which no longer has any root in human love.
The adept of Sāmkhya finds his point of support in his own inner
attitude, in a conscious effort to understand ―what there is.‖ To reach this
attitude, he makes use of everything that he has discovered, everything
that he has experienced up to the time when he begins his search. His
material consists of events in his life which enlarge his plane of
consciousness, harmonize the microcosm that he is, and reveal the relation
existing between the known universe and the unknown universe around
him. Even if he has neither a prayer nor a petition, he has, on the other
hand, an attitude of openness. He questions and he observes. He searches
within himself for a familiar sensation so as to face the perfect and absolute
cosmic Law which unfolds. He knows that it is through overcoming
obstacles that the inner being will make a fresh effort to attain a wider level
of consciousness. To hold to this openness entails attentive vigilance and
an immense work of amassing details upon details, until the first of them
are clearly perceived. To lead such a life is to live a prayer.

1
Śrīmadbhāgavataṃ or Bhāgavatapurāṇaṃ is traditionally attributed to Vyāsa, the author
of the Mahābhārata.
2 See p. 113.
 ■ Sāmkhya ■ 10

The following example, taken from a Tantric text, formulates it like this:
―Let your body become hard like dry wood. Then your inner felicity (rasa)
will be like sugar syrup. Let the fire of your spiritual discipline (sādhanā)
purify this syrup until it becomes candied sugar; this candied sugar will at
first be brown, but finally it will become as transparent as rock crystal. May
your inner felicity resemble rock crystal; then your love will be as pure as
Krishna‘s.‖
In order to taste this experience, there are two methods on opposite
levels. In the one case, stimulants and drugs are utilized by the physical
body. In the other case, the spiritual body consciously becomes more and
more refined and, in full awareness, reaches a strictly graduated
interiorization. This conscious lucidity will then be continuous like the
tracks of a caterpillar on the earth.
Then a stage of knowledge will be reached, that is, a knowledge that is
searching for itself and gradually discovers itself. At its highest point, after
a very delicate attunement, this knowledge becomes true compassion or
pure objective love.
In Vedanta and for the Vedantist, if felicity is not reached in the
complete passivity of all the centres of the being, the upward path is
nothing but renunciation and frustration. Vedanta denies all reality, while
the Sāmkhya discipline affirms that everything is reality (sat). In prakriti,
which by nature is mechanical, three densities have to be acknowledged
and gone beyond matter, energy and spirit, and to reach finally the cosmic
force that contains them all. Higher reality, or pure Existence (sat) beyond
manifestation, is expressed by the unity of these three densities. Behind it
stands Purusha.
The essential condition of this discipline is the possibility of absorption
which continually increases until it becomes total. To start with, everything
appears heavy and opaque, like a clod of earth that little by little, as
understanding broadens, appears like pure rock crystal.
The soul‘s felicity (vilāsa-vivarta) is the state in which the unreal becomes
real and vice versa.
In attempting this a Christian risks himself with difficulty, for he has to
take into account a ―sinful body‖ which weighs very heavily. The Christian
places his point of support ahead of him in God, who gives him strength
and consolation. He prays, invokes, and gives thanks. He is a worshipper
(bhakta) before his Lord (iṣṭadevatā). The great majority of Hindus are also
worshippers.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 11

In Sāmkhya, several themes for meditation are taught which date from
the time of the Vedas.
For example, the idea of the opposite pairs of the zenith-nadir (what is
above and what is below), or Purusha-Prakriti, is graphically pictured by
two points inked by an ideal line going vertically from the zenith to the
nadir. But in living experience one perceives in meditation that it is quite
different. Actually, these two poles of zenith and nadir are not opposites,
but are joined in a continuous movement that starts from the zenith,
describes a vast semicircle to the right and reaches the nadir at the bottom
of the curve. After having penetrated the nadir, this same movement re-
ascends to the left towards the zenith, forming the same semicircle as on
the right. It gives the picture of a large round vessel with the nadir at the
bottom.
The energy that descends from the zenith is fully conscious of its
movement. In full force it condenses, breaks down any resistance on the
way, and penetrates the inner being which, having seen it coming, has
hidden itself, coiled three and a half times, in the nadir. This coil is what
the energy has to break up.
A Guru of Sāmkhya explains this state as follows: energy penetrates the
dark night until the energy itself becomes inert and without reaction. At
that very moment it becomes entirely one with the heavy matter.
In the nadir of prakriti, the threefold coil represents the three distinct
and complementary qualities (guṇas) of prakriti itself. In the descending
movement, white (spirit), red (energy) and black (matter) follow one
another in the order of the colours at sunset. In the re-ascending movement
towards the zenith, the colours follow one another as at dawn: black
(matter), red (energy) and white (spirit).
The last half-coil remaining besides the three coils of the guṇas was,
during the entire process of the descent, the hiding place of the active
consciousness of Purusha. It represents the last redoubt of the
individuality-spirit through which the re-ascent can take place.
In this picture, the conqueror, conscious of the road he must follow,
resolutely penetrates into the darkness of matter and its heavy densities to
reach the very heart of prakriti. To complete his course, he has to break
down the last half-coil of prakriti which is holding him back. Only then
will he emerge from the struggle a hero.
Throughout the conscious and voluntary descent into the heaviness of
the human body down to the nadir, a clear vision makes it possible to
 ■ Sāmkhya ■ 12

perceive what will be the ascending path starting from the nadir, for the
stages and steps of the descent are analogous to those of the re-ascent.
There is also a theme of deep meditation which consists in seeing the
three guṇas as if they were concentric surfaces, one within the other. Thus,
we have the picture of four concentric barriers which delimit them, one
within the other; the one delimiting matter is outside, those delimiting
energy are inside, as well as the one in the centre which delimits the spirit.
The space in the centre represents the zone of perfect calm, the Void.

As soon as the perfect calmness of the inner space is perceived, the

image of concentric surfaces is obliterated and the fact of existing is now
experienced but very subtly, as if a state of active consciousness could be
compared to a thin streak of light which at the same time is filling the sky.
The result is an all-encompassing sensation of fluidity along the spinal
column. The sensation is that of a very fine vibrating matter ascending
from below. This sensation is like the radiance of light which fills space.
The three guṇas constitute the equilibrium of Purusha. Whatever takes
place, the constant balance between the qualities and the substances that
compose the guṇas remains. They move always in the same order, that is,
from matter (tamas) to energy (rajas), then to spirit (sattva), or, in the reverse
order, from spirit (sattva) to energy (rajas) down to matter (tamas). At the
moment of sunrise and sunset, one can feel in oneself the very delicate
transition from one density to the other, from one quality to the other and
see the change from one colour to another. That is why, traditionally, these
are the moments in which the guṇas form the background and the theme of
all meditation.
There are two Sāmkhyas: the first is philosophical, the second mystical.
Philosophical Sāmkhya, formulated by Ishvara Krishna,1 is recognized in
India as being the system of basic thought that indicates to the yogi, as well
as to the anchorite, the ascending path of spiritual search. It is a profoundly

1
The author of a treatise called Sāmkhya-Kārikā, in the third century A.D.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 13

negative philosophy which had an influence on the whole of life in India in

the Middle Ages. This is all that is known of Sāmkhya in the west.
But this Sāmkhya is also a mystical path, enshrined in the Vedas and the
Upanishads, which, in the course of centuries, has found its free and clear
expression in the Purāṇās and the Tantras, especially in the later sacred
scriptures. It can be said that the whole Tantric way of life is none other
than a Sāmkhya whose sources can be discovered in the most ancient Vedic
verses.
In this, the world is not denied. The principle of supreme bliss (ānanda)
is recognized, but it is called by another name, samprasāda, which, in the
Upanishads is the state of ―dreamless sleep‖, a sleep in which the spirit is
awakened within. Nothing is present to experience anything at all. There
exists only a calm joy which can carry over into the waking state. There is
no question of fleeing from pain, but rather of experiencing it as the
embrace in which Kali enfolds Shiva prostrate beneath her. This is
technically described in the Tantras by the word viparītarati (or the inverted
coitus), in which the Purusha is passively accepting even death and
destruction from the active Prakriti. Evil and pain, from which the world-
negating Vedanta assiduously turns away, are transformed here into Bliss
(Ananda).
But the mystics have added something further to their experience. They
have felt that, for a realized soul, suffering itself is no more than a ripple in
the current of bliss. It was in reference to this that Sri Ramakrishna1 was
able to say, ―Everything is sat-chit-ānanda.‖ Even my suffering is only a part
of the experience of existing and it has very little space in the total
experience of ‗being,‘ in the consciousness of bliss.‖
From this profound experience, Sāmkhya, integrated into life as it is in
the Bhagavad Gita, looks upon Prakriti as being threefold: the lower prakriti
(aparā), the higher Prakriti (parā), and the highest Prakriti that is our very
own (paramā or svīyā).
The philosophical Sāmkhya takes into consideration only the lower
prakriti, which is merely a complex of the qualities of sattva, rajas, and
tamas, permanently intermingled, although one of them must necessarily
predominate. But a pure quality (śuddha sattva) can also exist, which is
neither touched nor soiled by rajas and tamas. This, then, would be the
highest Prakriti that is many times mentioned in Puranic and Tantric

1Shri Ramakrishna died of cancer of the throat in 1886, at the age of fifty at Kashipur
near Calcutta.
 ■ Sāmkhya ■ 14

literature. This idea of pure sattva reigns over all the practical philosophies
of the Hindu mystics.
This pure quality is nothing other than eternal bliss (non-existent in
rajas) and eternal illumination (non-existent in tamas) co-existing in the
spiritual being. This is the entire concept of sat-chit-ānanda common to the
mystical philosophies of Sāmkhya and Vedanta.
Vijnana Bhikshu, a great Master of the school of Sāmkhya in the
fifteenth century, has given us the following metaphor in connection with
Purusha and Prakriti: ―Prakriti is Purusha‘s wife; she is shrewd and
peevish. She gives Purusha no respite, until he becomes so harassed that he
finally says, ‘I am going away, do what you like!‘ Then Prakriti runs after
her husband in tears, implores him, and clings to him…‖ These are the two
ways of dealing with prakriti, before and after having realized what she is.
The cosmic Law closest to us tells us, ―As soon as you become detached
from prakriti, everything follows you.‖
Swami Rama Tirtha1 has given us another picture, ―If you turn your
back to the sun, your shadow is in front of you. You can try to catch it, but
you will never succeed. But the minute you turn to face the sun, your
shadow is behind you. If you move, it follows you. You can make it go
where you wish. The sun is truth, the shadow is Prakriti.‖
It is easy for us to talk about the changes in our consciousness, the
broadening of our understanding, but not so easy to speak of the
readjustments of our relationship with the world, for the matter of the
body is heavy. And the many envelopes of the body (koṣas) are not mere
illusions, as the envelopes of the mind often are.
Purusha can do nothing for us, since we are the slaves of prakriti.
Purusha is outside of time and beyond our understanding, whereas
prakriti exists in time. It is at once the aggregate of the qualities (guṇas) that
we can evaluate and the aggregate of the movements and impressions
(saṃskārās) of all those qualities that make up our life. Purusha is a flash of
perception, while prakriti operates in an integral mechanism.
Between the two there is the sacrifice of Purusha, which in time takes on
a form. For example, the efforts of the Buddha can be perceived by us. If
we talk about the efforts of the Buddha on our scale, we have a certain
perception of something. But of what?

1 Rama Tirtha, who died in 1906, went to the United States after Swami Vivekananda‘s
time. While there, he spoke magnificently about Vedanta; he created no organization,
saying, ―The whole of India is my ashram.‖
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 15

An exact relationship exists between prakriti, which moves

spontaneously, mechanically, always in circles, and Purusha, outside of
time, which merely looks on at what is happening. In spiritual life, this
relationship appears at the exact point where voluntary detachment breaks
the bonds which have been established by prakriti. In the life of the
Buddha, the period of detachment is represented by the first half of his
asceticism. Later on, while looking from afar at what is happening, he
becomes increasingly interested in the game in which he no longer
participates and observes the smallest errors of each participant. Then,
without hindering their manner of playing, he urges them by his spiritual
strength alone to stand aside like himself, so that they, too, can watch the
game. In this way, at the proper time, he gives them the chance to see the
prakriti from which they are withdrawing, as he himself sees it. The subtle
energy that is here described has become the aura of the Buddha; it is
simply the lower prakriti transformed and illuminated.

In active spiritual life, one proceeds only by negation. This constant

negation, for Christians, has become resignation. We must not forget that
whereas in Hinduism there is no beginning and no end, in Christianity
there is no end but a beginning. The way of love (bhakti) has its place in the
attitude of negation as well as in the attitude of resignation.
The path to the attainment to the state of ―divine soul‖ is extremely long
with precipices on both sides. This state of ―divine soul‖ is limited to a very
few and, even so, is always subject to the Laws of the all-powerful and
mechanical prakriti. Jesus Christ himself was crucified; nothing was able to
prevent the action set in motion by prakriti, which on our human level
works exactly like the cosmic Laws and with equal intransigence.
Prakriti contains everything that exists. It is the divine womb of all
manifestation. In prakriti one can observe three different degrees:

1. Everything of which we are made: soul, intelligence, ego, life, mind,

and the animal matter of our body.
2. The very principle of our possible evolution on all planes of our
psychic and physical being.
3. The divine energy (śakti) in its most subtle elements.
In one sense, all is materiality. In the Vedas, the word tanu means the
body as well as everything to do with incarnation, and the word ātman
means the spirit and everything connected with its energy or life. These
 ■ Sāmkhya ■ 16

words are inter-changeable and are constantly being used for one another,
since they both express the same materiality. There is no difference
between spirit and matter; it is only a question of different densities.
When a piece of coal is white hot, it is impossible to say whether it is
burning matter or a cluster of flames symbolizing the spirit. Here we have
a phenomenon of transubstantiation that is visible in the heart of the
spiritual experience.
The essential characteristic of India is that nothing is ever rejected. What
was a simple Vedic sacrifice has been transformed in the course of
centuries into a ritual of such complexity that it suggests a banyan tree
sheltering at one and the same time a temple, a mosque, a saint, a bandit,
devotees, animals, manure and so on. It is a real jungle in which one can
easily lose one‘s way. In it one finds ―this and that and also That.‖
Hence the hoarding of objects in the Hindu temples. The minute one
accepts the idea of form (rūpa), one can throw away nothing. Who is to
decide what is true or false? Everything is of equal importance and equally
worthy of attention. Each form has a name (nāma) and significance. This is
so on every level.
The ―too much‖ has a logic of its own, and logic is very far from the
Divine. In the ceremonies, the forms have become all important, and have
driven out the spirit. Man plays with materiality with consummate art,
without being aware of the mechanicity of prakriti, and without
discovering that he is its slave.
One cannot change the course of prakriti, which goes its way according
to a determined plan in the order of universal things and according to
immutable Laws that it does not know. It knows only its own law. It does
its work excellently and faultlessly. The energies divide and subdivide up
to the point of feeding the cells of our body. They penetrate the heart and
penetrate every drop of blood. At this point the body is an expression of
―That.‖
Men are tossed about and carried along by a wave of which they cannot
get free, but they can swim in the direction of the cavern of the heart. The
seat of immobile consciousness is there. The movement of the wave has
then ceased for these men, because they have put their attention to another
order of reality. In the cavern of the heart they touch the immutable. One
has to follow this process with an inward look and feel the pulsation of life.
There is a known relation between the pulsation of life and the movement
of the outer wave just as there is a relation between the pulsation of life and
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 17

the immobile consciousness. This movement is continuous. A sudden stop

would mean death.
So long as we are immersed in prakriti, in ourselves and in life, we are
governed by it, by its movements, its sudden jumps, and its cosmic
rhythms. Without withdrawing into ourselves, we can have no control over
our prakriti.
It is impossible from outside to know whether the driver of a vehicle has
control over himself or not. If he has, he can stop when he so decides. He
knows that the wheels of the vehicle turn because of him. He is in control
of his personal prakriti, which in its turn plays its role in a vaster Prakriti.
The latter is itself the field of action of the great cosmic Laws.
There are two ways in which Great Nature constantly reacts toward
Purusha: it remains in the centre of the movement, not to be drawn to one
side of the other; or it follows the movement all the way. In any case, one
must turn to the Void, which is the beginning as well as the end of all
things.
Conscious energy (śakti) implies continuous growth which, even if it is
not apparent and seems to start from darkness (tamas), is nonetheless real.
It passes through the red-hot glow of active impulse (rajas) before reaching
the whiteness of the rarefied state (sattva). This whiteness in life is the state
of awakened consciousness.
Thus, we have to raise ourselves up step by step from the plane of gross
matter up to the plane of awakened consciousness, and thus come back to
heavy matter, retaining in ourselves as long as possible a continuous and
right sensation. We are constantly harassed from outside by multiple
shocks which bring forth in us either the desire to see God and experience a
moment of illumination, or the anguish of death, prowling in the shadows
and bringing a state of deep depression. The dawn symbolizes the
intermediate power of śakti. It is the light that begins to shine in the heart of
the dark night.
Perched on the shaft, the driver of the bullock cart sees the two big
wooden wheels turning at the same time. One of them is life, the other
death. Both wheels are equally necessary for the balance of the cart.1

Discover in yourself the faith that shakes the world. Never say
―Perhaps,‖ but say ―Yes‖ right away. This helps you to discover reactions
in consciousness, to observe them and to make a choice. You must not

1 Taittirīya Brāhmaṇa.
 ■ Sāmkhya ■ 18

accept the slavery of automatism in your reactions. Cut it off. It is possible.

Refuse categorically to be the slave of your reactions. Have a deep desire to
master them.
Accept primordial Nature as it exists in time, but withdraw from it and
observe it from the plane of Purusha. The plane of Purusha is the plane of
the spirit. This step is pure Sāmkhya. Believe that your evolution is
possible even if your development is extremely slow.
Expect nothing whatsoever from anybody. Men are nothing but blind
instruments, tools without freedom, driven by an invisible power that they
do not even wish to know, for their eyes are not open. It is important to
know whether our philosophy of life is effective. Only when circumstances
overwhelm us do we see the movements of prakriti that surround us and
notice that we ourselves are an integrated part of prakriti.
Then what we have perceived of pure Existence (sat) nourishes our inner
being, no matter what for us has taken outwardly the form of victory or
defeat. It is useless to regret the past. In our life experience, we have acted
according to our understanding and our possibility at a particular moment.
This is an inescapable Law which holds us in its orbit as long as we are the
slaves of prakriti.
As soon as one withdraws consciously from prakriti, if only for an
instant, its movement ceases. One emerges from it having touched the
point of creation. This point gives an extremely pure sensation. It is often
reached through ―spiritual death,‖ which is beyond all energy, beyond
cogitations of the ego. But the disciple should not desire at all costs to
escape from the grip of prakriti, for it is the field in which his own
movements can be discovered, closely studied, evaluated, and used.
Every time the boatman uses the oars, they are indispensable only when
going against the current, he causes a rupture in the normal flow of the
river. It is the same in the flow of life. To go consciously against the current
creates an opposing movement which will be manifested in one way or
another.
Every movement that starts abruptly is always wrong. It comes from an
unconscious reaction in our own life, or from anguish in front of the
unknown, that is, the fear of death. One must always allow the ―Life
principle‖ to run its course between an action and the decision that
precedes it, and thereby allow the normal rhythm of the movements of
prakriti to take place. Prakriti will assert its rights and create enough
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 19

obstacles to strengthen or to cancel the decision before there has been any
action.

It is said that thoughts that are a part of prakriti are of a very subtle
matter. Because of that, one can learn to control them and no longer to feel
one with them. When you are able to direct your thoughts in a more
objective manner, it proves that you are already dissociated from them.
Every time you discover that you are dissociated from prakriti, even for
an instant, it means that some of the elements of prakriti in you have been
liberated. But the secret remains, that if we emerge from an impure
prakriti, it is only to enable us to go towards a purer prakriti. This is the
way of a sahaja discipline1 lived in the midst of life. The follower of such a
discipline works to coordinate his efforts towards that end.

There are two ways to escape from the chain of prakriti, since
everything on every plane exists in such a way that experiences are
endlessly repeated. Both of them are very exacting.
One of the ways is upward and consists in the initiation into sannyāsa2 of
the monks who roam about India wearing the ochre or the white robe, or of
the layman who resolutely enters, at a particular time in his life, upon the
hermit‘s ―cave life‖ in order to live a spiritual experience.
The other way tends downward. For man and woman alike, it is like the
degradation of prostitution: the abandoning of castes and of the social
framework. By this movement they deliberately cease to submit to the true
Law and put themselves under a lower set of laws.

It is not giving that counts, for giving remains a proof that one has
something to give. What counts is to experience the most complete
dissatisfaction with oneself and to see it with open eyes until one gets
down to bedrock. This is the movement that causes prakriti, uncovered and
unmasked, to react.
At this moment something as yet unperceived can begin to break
through. It is the energy (śakti) that becomes the matrix or the Void. There
only can something take shape and be born when the time comes. Bedrock
represents the eternal Prakriti busy with ceaseless creation, for such is her
function, indifferent to everything taking place around her. This is one of

1 See pp. 1 to 7.
2 Complete renunciation of worldly life by way of monastic vows.
 ■ Sāmkhya ■ 20

her movements. She has another movement, opposite to it, which must also
be discovered. According to one of her Laws, she gradually pushes her
children into Purusha‘s field of vision. Meeting the piercing look of
Purusha, whose function it is to ―see,‖ is an instant of total understanding,
a giving up of oneself. How can one describe that look? What one knows of
it cannot be communicated. And besides, it would be useless to try.
All one can do is to wait with much love and be ready to meet it. Is it
possible to guess when Prakriti will make this gesture for you? Is it
possible to know why she does so?
It is essential to build one‘s life around two principles: that of letting go
and that of contraction. The moment of complete, conscious ―letting go‖ is
when Purusha is in dissociation from Prakriti. Such a moment lasts only as
long as several very calm respirations; this creates the naked universe,
stripped of the ―I‖. Correctly speaking, this is not meditation, but rather an
attitude of interiorized life. Sri Aurobindo lived it for forty years isolated in
his ashram1; Shri Ramana Maharshi lived it during his whole life in his
rarely broken silence.
Expansion is the creative movement corresponding to introspection. The
one inevitably leads to the other, that is, expansion of itself leads to letting
go when one finds the inner point of balance.
A fundamental idea is that of conscious identification with the forces of
Nature. Its significance is vast. It means full expansion in complete
relaxation. But one cannot actualize anything without first having let go of
everything!

What can I do? Faced with this question, the best thing to do is to do
nothing on one‘s own initiative. The idea of expansion has to be properly
understood. There can be no expansion except through love. In love we
emerge from our little ego. But this love has to be impersonal. I can speak
about it by using the Vedic image of the sun, which radiates energy and
thereby illuminates and creates. This is the essence of its expansion. It is not
attached to anything, yet it attracts everything to it in its kingdom of light.
Expansion does not mean doing something; it means being and becoming.
The capacity to do flows spontaneously from the capacity to be.
Purusha ―is,‖ whereas Prakriti ‗is‖ and also ―does,‖ but always from the
centre outwards, exactly in the way the very delicate green shoots sprout

1Sri Aurobindo appeared only four times a year before his disciples, on the days known
as darśan.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 21

from the germinated seed. This seed in itself is Purusha folded back on
itself, motionless and at the same time the creator of the movement of life.
You must know this, and then feel in yourself that you are both Purusha
and Prakriti. This is the Sāmkhya version of expansion.
I often wonder who orchestrates the dangerous games of nations, who it
is that in a given year devours the sap of life and in another year gives it
fresh vigour. All this is the work of prakriti. How clever she is at creating
mountains out of a grain of sand! From afar Purusha watches her at work.
He smiles! To tell the truth, prakriti also laughs while pretending to be
absorbed in the work on which her heart is set!
The important thing in all of this is to keep calm and to smile while
taking everything as it comes up just as seriously as a child would. Then
forget it the next minute! There will always be heavy obligations for you to
carry, but you can lay them down, one after the other, as you move
forward on the road of life.
These obligations are like black clouds accumulating in the sky. When
they become heavy enough, they burst of themselves and disperse. In time,
obligations disappear by themselves.
The secret is to accept everything, but be very careful not to be attached
to anything whatsoever!
 ■ Laws—Powers ■ 22

LAWS—POWERS

In India people strive for these powers:

— to reach God;
— to make God appear objective;
— to have a clear sensation of the ―I‖;
— to eradicate every difference between ―you‖ and ―me‖;
— to materialize the divine Laws and worship them as they are
represented in the form of gods.
If man of 50,000 years ago were to return, he would see that man has not
changed, either spiritually or in his deep reactions. The whole of
civilization is only the outward appearance (māyā) of what is manifested
(sat). So why then should the Hindu believer not look for a means to escape
from this slavery?
This cosmos to which we belong does not hold us in slavery. It is what it
is. For us it represents the continuity of a power, of a descending Law with,
here and there, one ascending soul, one in a million says the Bhagavad Gita.
Such a soul radiates its own light; it touches other hearts because it has
―passed through the death of the ego and the birth of the being.‖ It is
nourished by the Void. In the Void, absurdities evaporate spontaneously.
He who has lost faith and builds it up again slowly and cautiously by
means of the science of Sāmkhya, the logic and mathematics relating to
cosmic Laws, knows by experience why the world holds together; but the
instant he tries to formulate the mathematical equation, he will fail and fall.
Great Nature in her eternal recurrence represents a form of prakriti that
the human heart can comprehend. She expresses the force that has two
opposite movements, the one ascending, the other descending. Their role is
to bring mankind and organic life on earth into the play of cosmic Laws.
She shows the mechanical aspect of the Laws, in which man, according to
his stage of evolution and inner attitude, sees miracles, ironies or
absurdities, or no matter what else, in order to escape the grip of eternal
recurrence. At the same time, he refuses to see the harmonious operation of
these cosmic Laws.
This concordance is beyond human logic, such logic being only a form
of the unconscious and mechanical functioning of the ego.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 23

The world is a bazaar where everybody is shouting at the top of his

voice to attract attention and make his little bargain. Remember that
success or failure means nothing in the play of the Laws. All depends only
on how the game is played. Thoughts are a thousand times more powerful
than words. Be quiet in yourself, be calm and silent in the agitation around
you. Let the powers act without allowing the human law, subjective and
narrow, to interfere. The great powers act by impregnating the nerve fibres
of the earth.
The whole of life is the immensity of the darkness of night (varuṇa) and
the immensity of the light of day (mitra). The multiplicity of the
circumstances and conditioning, to which we are subject in time, must not
distort our inner vision in relation to darkness and light.
Then, in the intermediate light between day and night, we will clearly
distinguish the broken lines which are the Laws as they come down to us,
insofar as we are able to understand them. The work, for every one of us, is
to learn to recognize them steadfastly and patiently, one after another.
Power, even in its most subtle and essential vibrations, includes two
directions: one is positive and the other negative. Words such as truth, life,
essence, should only be used with caution, for they contain in themselves
an implicit source of opposition.

All the Vedic sages (rishis) repeatedly taught that spiritual life proceeds
by jumps, by upward thrusts, whose trajectory, being subject to the Law of
gravity, falls down again from the apogee of its course to the lowest point.
This fall is what starts eternal recurrence. We live and are fed by the visions
of ―those who see,‖ and there will always be new rishis and new disciples.
In these times, the rishis‘ vision serves only to create disciples. Disciples
are necessary so that what is brought by the rishi can make its way into life.
But the more the disciples are attached to themselves, the more mediocre
they become, interested only in defending their rights of seniority, their
ashram, their Master‘s thought, without engaging themselves in the
process of creation.
In summary, the rishi‘s vision does not seem to belong to those who
gather around him, but is a testimony to ―That which is‖ for a much wider
circle and for the sake of a continuity that will establish itself. This vision is
a state of impersonal consciousness; it is what keeps the world in an exact
 ■ Laws—Powers ■ 24

relationship to the Laws. To impose a name on it is to limit the vision and

lock it in a closed circle.
There are three important points to recognize in the ascending spiral
representing the evolution of man: the point of sunrise, the point of the
zenith, and of the ―High North‖ (uttaram), which is the summit reached by
the trajectory of this ascending spiral. The High North is the point where a
new light scale begins to develop.
This direction toward the High North is also directly related to the
solstices. The sun travels toward the north from December 21 until June 21
and the days lengthen. From the time when the sun moves toward the
south, the days get shorter. That is why Yama, the king of death, is
represented as living in the south, and Shiva, the god of life and death
beyond the north. Moreover, the east is the origin of light, the west is the
house of the Void. These indications are scrupulously observed in the
building of a temple or of a house. The position north-east always indicates
the very action of the Law in our life.
For an action to be in accordance with the Laws and be a part of them,
two forces must support it. One of them is the Void, which generated the
action, the other the energy and freedom of its movement.
Such a mode of action is established in a right relationship between
Guru and disciple. The Guru says to his disciple, ―Go and fulfil this task
and know that even here I shall be the Void of your movement. Feel this
deeply in yourself.‖ These two forces can also co-exist in the same person,
which is the state mentioned in the Bhagavad Gītā: the action is born from
the vibration of the Void.
The best illustration of this is the story of a nun chosen by the king of a
state to become his queen. The sannyāsinī finally accepted on condition that
she be given an isolated room in the royal palace to which she alone would
have the key. She used to go there every day. The king, jealous of the
radiance of the queen, decided one day to follow her there to steal her
secret. The room he saw her enter was bare and whitewashed. A sackcloth
robe was hanging on a nail. The queen took off her rich attire and jewels
and put on this beggar‘s dress. Then she meditated for a long time, seated
on the ground. At last, she turned around and said to the king, ―Here I am
‗myself,‘ the woman who loved God alone before she became a queen, and
who still loves only God in His divine play.‖
That queen has no name. She is part of Indian folklore.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 25

An impulse pushes us to follow the way of the spirit, Purusha. We must

not stop to ask, ―What is this impulse?‖ It is there so that we may follow
the ideal and constantly make it grow. No backward steps! This impulse
has to be cultivated because it belongs to the ascending Law.
Opposing this, prakriti holds us fast in the wheels of her machinery. One
can be satisfied there and sleep in peace. Prakriti asks no more of us. She
has a very strong power of gravitation, and drags back to herself beings
who were ready to escape. She brings them back very skillfully for she
needs our lives for her own purposes; she needs humus composed of the
constantly renewed heavy and fine matter which our lives bring to her.
As regards any personal discipline, you must follow the right course.
What you get through intuition can never fail you. The whole attitude can
be summed up in a short sentence: ―I know that, I feel that, I am that.‖ Let
the powers work deep within you. The pain that results is that of a new
birth. If inclination for inner work lessens, do not worry. Creation starts in
darkness. Out of nothing comes the force of śakti. Let yourself be carried by
the stream; so do not struggle. Not that you will reach the shore; your
destination is to become the ocean itself.
We know that there are seven planes: three above and three below and a
seventh which serves as a bridge. The three lower planes generate the
physical, emotional, and mental; the three higher ones generate pure
existence (sat), pure radiant energy (chit) and bliss (ānanda), which is the joy
of creation; the seventh plane (rasa) is that on which things are carried out,
that of the mother standing between the father and the child, permeating
both.
In the Tantras the lunar days divided into three groups of five. This
fivefold pattern symbolizes the power of the Virgin-mother. In each group,
the days stand for joy (nandā), harmony and welfare (bhadrā), victory and
power (jayā), consecration and sacrifice (riktā), plenitude (pūrṇā). Śakti is
pictured as a little girl growing into womanhood. The first stage is her
childhood; the second, her adolescence; the third, her youth; the fourth, her
maturity; and the fifth, her completeness. Beyond is the Void. The same
applies to the three lower planes: physical, emotional, mental. Analytically
speaking, beyond śakti is the eternal spirit known as nityā-ṣoḍaśī, and still
further beyond is complete emptiness, nirvāṇa-kāla.
The full moon symbolizes the blossoming and fruition of the hidden
moon‘s creative activity working in darkness. This is why peasants who are
in contact with the earth sow seeds for flowers during the bright phase of
 ■ Laws—Powers ■ 26

the moon and for edible plants in its dark phase. The dark ray of creation is
spoken of in the Kaṭha Upanishad.1
Following is the scheme of the seven planes:
Father Mother (the bridge) Child
1,2,3 4 5,6,7

There is always a gap, a no-man‘s-land, between two planes. Otherwise

there could be no creation. The Buddhists were right in saying that
―everything‖ comes from ―nothing.‖
The intrinsic qualities (guṇas) of prakriti are what bring gradual degrees
of modification in the transition from matter to spirit and vice versa. These
modifications are everywhere and on all planes. Energy (rajas) is the
element of fermentation. The Bhagavataṃ2 gives an excellent comparison
between the entire process and a piece of wood catching fire. At first there
is no fire — a state of inertia (tamas); then comes smoke — a state of energy
(rajas); and then heat and light — the rarefied state (sattva). So whenever
we try to break up inertia on the human plane, we must be ready for
confusion, misunderstanding and rashness; these things are bound to
happen. The whole world is rajas, storm and stress, otherwise matter could
not become ―luminous spirit,‖ or ―harmonious multiplicity‖ like the petals
of the lotus, which is the symbol of the One.

Dissolution is often necessary before real creation starts. You cannot

always be looking for something. You must stop somewhere and let things
grow within you. There is a rhythm of creation and a rhythm of
dissolution, symbolized by the dance of Shiva. At first this dance is violent,
full of convulsive movements with steps marking life and death at the
same time. The rishis have called this part of the dance tāṇḍava. Its duration
is related to cycles. Gradually the dance changes into the gentle dance of
balanced force, where the rhythm becomes so supple that life and death are
near each other and can be felt in the same movement. The rishis have
called this rhythmic vibration lāsya.
Herein lies the true creative possibility of śakti, of which the violent
tāṇḍava of Shiva is the cosmic background. The balance and deep
significance of life lie in dissolution. This is what makes life a constant

1 2.2.15.
2 1.2.24.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 27

renewal. Accept things just as they come and one day the light step of lāsya
will be yours.
There are two movements in creation. The movement of interiorization
always precedes that of exteriorization. It is represented in the following
imagery: according to the Purāṇās, creation was to come from the four
united principles, the four sons of Brahmā.1 But when Brahmā had created
them, instead of going down to earth and manifesting themselves
outwardly, they went back into their father‘s bosom and became the force
of withdrawal, from which there then issued the ―Seven Sages‖ or ―Seven
Laws‖ that participated in the creation and continue to maintain it. These
two movements, interiorization and exteriorization, are to be found
everywhere, in creation as in de-creation, or pralaya, that is to say, the
creation that undoes itself spontaneously, beginning from the end. Creation
is in itself birth and death, whereas de-creation is in itself death and birth.
It is difficult to conceive of the transition from rarefaction to density
even though it is the very process of all creation. We realize, or rather we
imagine, what the Void may be, but to follow the process of the ether
becoming the earth, which would be the genuine realization of creation, is
far from our understanding.
You rise to the heights and are often aware of the process, but then you
suddenly bump your head on the earth. Of course, you bring the flavour of
the ether down with you but still you cannot re-create it. The attempt has
been given up as almost impossible by the author of the Brahmasūtra who
remarked: ―You can become one with Brahma in knowledge and bliss, but
you cannot become one with him in his creative power.‖ The explanation is
something like this: you can die consciously, but you cannot be born
consciously. If you could do so your birth would be a divine birth, an
incarnation.
Through the ages man has pursued his quest beyond death through
idolatry. Even nowadays man‘s search starts with idolatry and it is very
important to see that it ends with it, too. If matter becomes spirit, spirit
likewise must return to matter. That is why the greatest spiritual Masters of
India never denounced or gave up idolatry. Not even Shankaracharya.
Through his Guru‘s teaching, the Hindu disciple discovers, in the
spiritual discipline he follows, how to put into daily practice the Laws of
Shiva Mahadeva, the supreme Lord, just as they are described in all the
sacred texts. These Laws are illustrated by three aspects of life, creation,

1 The god of the Hindu trinity in his creative aspect.

 ■ Laws—Powers ■ 28

preservation and destruction, and by two movements, the one from above
moving downward, the other from below going upward.
A disciple will hold to this imagery so long as he expects to receive
everything from his Guru. He may continue to do so during several
successive lives, unless the idea of evolution is born in him. There comes a
time when the disciple recognizes the obstacles that he must face and go
beyond. He discovers that this has to do with the Law of three in his own
nature and in his development.
Three Laws govern life: the Law of growth, the Law of expansion, and
the Law of intensity. All three are illustrated by the ―tree of life‖, showing
how this tree grows, how it spreads out its foliage, and how it sinks its
roots deep into the soil.
One must be firmly rooted. Such is the first Law. Then grow and assert
yourself. At that moment open yourself, stretch out your arms to feel your
radiation around you, and then bring the universe back to you with head
held high, for it touches the sun. Be deep, wide, tall, truly like a tree of life.

Śakti, insofar as it is the power of matter utilized by Purusha in its

manifestation, still depends on Purusha. It is by nature opposed to
Purusha, so that between the two a life-giving current may be established.
As soon as śakti appears, it already contains in itself the three initial Laws
which give it its material density.
If Purusha chooses to play an active role, its śakti will always be passive.
On the other hand, if Purusha chooses to be passive, its śakti will always be
active. While the passive element stands back, the active element takes
different forms. Each form or each movement gives rise to new Laws,
which, if the movement ceases, will be reenfolded within one another and
will return to the initial force that gave them birth.
Thus in Shivaism, Shiva, representing the spirit, is always passive, and
his śaktis, representing various aspects of manifestations in the world, have
different functions under different names: Uma, Gauri, Annapurna,
Parvati, Kali, Durga, and so forth. In Vaishnavism, on the other hand,
Vishnu is the active element. He is the creator who has manifested himself
in different forms in different incarnations,1 displaying a gradual voluntary
evolution. The constant activity of Vishnu is to maintain the world,
whereas his śakti is secret, inner and completely passive. She is called Shrī,

1 There are ten incarnations of Vishnu (Bhāgavatapurāṇaṃ, Bk. I, Chap. 3).

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 29

meaning beauty and harmony. She is the symbol of the lotus in full bloom.
Shrī is the secret in the heart of a woman.

The sound (bīja) in the sacred word (mantra) is the vibration which
causes matter to pass to spirit, or conversely, spirit to pass to matter. Hence
its great importance in spiritual techniques. Every being has his own
vibration which, in either a clear or confused way, is equivalent to a
formula of coagulation or of a possible dissolution. On the horizontal
plane, in ordinary life, this mantric vibration is expressed by a
configuration (yantra) which is the basic individual diagram used by the
force emanating from oneself at no matter what degree of materialization.
This force flows out in complete disorder. It is instinctive. It obeys all the
outer attractions and associates itself with all the automatic movements of
prakriti, whatever they may be. Those who are conscious of the power of
this spontaneous force direct their effort towards preventing its
uncontrolled emanation and towards canalizing it without producing any
mutilation.
Then one must learn to know it, to guide it, to love it as it is, so as to
tame it and give it a way of expression. The sacred sound (bīja) is that very
force which, when necessary, is used against itself. This has nothing to do
with the invocations or sacred words (mantras) which are repeated to create
a state of openness or surrender; but only with the seed-syllable itself.

There are four Tantric Laws that concern Unity:

1. Cosmic unity (brahmāṇḍa), which is, the expansion of the self up to
touching the sky, a passionate love for the sensory universe in all its forms,
until it brings within ourselves the vibration of the Vedic formula: ―The
earth is my mother, I am the child of the earth.‖
2. The psychic unity (prakṛtyānda) existing between the real inner being
and the ego with all its impulses. This unity is the thread of life connecting
all experiences lived through up until our discovery of knowledge.
3. Causal unity (māyānda), which is the progressive discovery of the
forces and Laws within the heart of Prakriti.
4. Spiritual unity (śaktyānda), which is the harmonious association of our
soul, our essence, the ―I‖, and the force of life, the most subtle Prakriti.
 ■ Laws—Powers ■ 30

There is a basic rule for approaching any one of these Tantric Laws,
which is to understand that the body is the instrument of life. It follows
that any stiffening or hardening, that is, any tension in thought or in body,
prevents a conscious extension towards the infinite.
Now, as regards the spiritual quest: if you consciously hold within
yourself three-quarters of your power and use only one-quarter to respond
to any communication coming from others, you can stop the automatic,
rapid, and thoughtless movement outward, which leaves you with a
feeling of emptiness, of having been absorbed by life. This stopping of the
movement outwards is not self-defence, but rather an effort to have the
response given come from within, from the deepest part of one‘s being.
This process reverses the natural movement of prakriti and brings back
energy to its seed form. Let this become your way of communicating with
others.
Something in yourself is awakened, and by this interiorization you
begin a movement in the direction opposite from what is taking place
outwardly. Thereby two movements are produced in you. One of them
goes outward and the other goes inward. The latter is the movement of the
higher Prakriti uniting with the immobile Purusha. This is the moment in
which prakriti surrenders, in which there is no struggle.
The Law of life is the same. As the physical cells build the body, the
germ cells are concentrated within and retain their energy for a later
creation. We imagine that we create by projecting outwards, whereas real
creation takes place through suction and absorption. When this power of
absorption becomes natural, you discover that creation, radiation,
communication and all similar processes come to you spontaneously.
In Sāmkhya, this spontaneous creation is called dharmamegha, or the
cloud of energy that pours forth multiple powers, for behind this creation
there is the Void.
All spiritual search is directed towards a shining point, which can be
approached only from the periphery of a big circle and in many different
ways. Sāmkhya is the logical science that makes it possible to see the
movements of prakriti and to dissociate oneself from it on the plane of life
itself. This is the opposite of the attitude of so many seekers who, in order
to escape from the clutches of prakriti and turn away from it, run away
from the world to follow a primitive discipline that mutilates their life to
such an extent that it no longer has any connection with reality.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 31

Feeling oneself dissociated from prakriti does not mean that one has
become her master. To master prakriti requires inner work and attentive
observation of śakti‘s energy. This energy is a fully awakened power which
is not yet tamed. Only when prakriti is conquered and mastered does Life
within life, in the midst of all prakriti‘s erratic movements, become the
state described as Shiva-śakti in the heart of the cosmic Laws.

The whole theory of the Void is that of the luminous ether (ākāśa). Sound
(śabda) and speech (vāk) come from ākāśa, and therefore also the idea of a
creator God who in order to manifest Himself, uses five elements and five
sensations.
The five elements belong to God, to the descending Law; the five
sensations belong to man, to the ascending Law. To approach a direct
experience, we have only the authority of the Sacred Scriptures and the
experiences of the saints and yogis who have gone before us. The work of
transformation in the course of evolution can only be done by oneself on
oneself. A Master, of course, can activate it, and fellow disciples can help in
sustaining the effort, but the seeker will be entirely alone throughout his
attempt and many times he will confuse the means with the end to be
attained.
Some notions are occasionally given but always in a veiled form which
can be interpreted in different ways, such as:
―One must be subtle enough to feel the presence of the mother, for life
begins with an odour…
―One must be subtle enough to discover where the father is, for life ends
with a sound…‖

In studying the Tantras, one discovers progressively, thanks to sound

and by means of sound, how the idea, by taking on destiny, gradually
becomes the object that is perceived. The two linked words ―Shiva-śakti‖
create the vibration by which the spirit takes on the destiny of matter.
Every time this double word is pronounced one must refer also to what it
contains in the ascending Law, for it is the passage from one level to the
next. In every sensation pertaining to the ascending Law, each movement
begins with heat, continues with the materiality of food and light, and
reaches luminous ether, that is, the Void.
 ■ Laws—Powers ■ 32

The three Laws of śakti always remain veiled. They are the Laws of pure
Existence (sat), of pure Spirit (chit) and pure Bliss (ānanda). Another Law,
however, the Law of phenomena, is projected on to the screen of
consciousness.
The first of the three laws is that of pure Existence, sat; although having
the appearance of complete immobility it is in itself a vibration or a
movement. This inner vibration is the source of all existing movement. The
first movement is a straight line between two points and it is this straight
line that represents the immobility of Shiva. Prakriti appears and takes
possession of the pattern of straight lines, weaving onto it her pattern in the
shape of a spider‘s web, with broken lines forming angles, surrounded by
concentric circles.

Finally, by the force of śakti these curves detach themselves from the
horizontal plane to form a spiral ascending around its own axis.
The second Law is that of pure Bliss. Ānanda is the result of the
movement having taken place in consciousness, a calm movement like an
undulation of the water. This undulation contains life, which is in itself the
very essence of śakti. This pattern of flexible undulation is nevertheless
made up of short broken lines.

The third Law is that of pure Spirit. Cit has a very definite function
between the vibration originating in the immobile source and the wave that
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 33

is the essence of śakti. It is the awakened consciousness and its role is to

unite sat with ānanda.
In one way or another, it can be said of sat that if I look within myself, I
see that śakti draws me inwardly. I become conscious of the immobility of
the world and of the straight line between two points representing
Purusha. Of ānanda it can be said that if I am conscious of what is around
me, I project myself outward and enter into the very play of śakti. At that
moment I feel all the waves passing over the water as being the pulsations
of life itself. On the other hand, cit, the pure consciousness of the spirit,
observes what is happening between sat and ānanda.

The expression Shiva-śakti reveals the ultimate reality beyond the

concept Purusha-Prakriti of classical Sāmkhya. Shiva-śakti is the state of the
fully realized being, that is, an inward state of enlightened consciousness.
The seeker who has not yet dissociated himself from the prakriti outside
himself and from the prakriti within himself, sees the immobile Purusha as
a state of pure consciousness and prakriti as being an unconscious and
mechanical force.
Prakriti and Shakti thus denote two different states of consciousness, the
second being a higher state of consciousness, tending towards the limitless.
Prakriti is a kinetic energy, whereas śakti is a latent potential energy
returning to itself and containing in itself all the possibilities of
development of prakriti‘s movements.
If I speak to you, I am using prakriti‘s power of exteriorization. If I
collect in myself what I wish to say to you, I have the choice of speaking if I
so desire or of saying nothing, thus demonstrating the interiorized power
of śakti, which contains in itself the kinetic capacity of prakriti.
The inner fluctuations and commotions in the course of spiritual
discipline (sādhanā) can be expressed schematically, according to the
modifications in the passive and active qualities involved.

The lower aspect or exteriorization prakriti-Purusha

+ —
The higher aspect or interiorisation Shiva-śakti
— +
 ■ Laws—Powers ■ 34

From the point of view of Sāmkhya, Prakriti can be an active energy

only if it has a passive substratum opposing its movement. This fact is
represented mythological by Kali (time) dancing on the naked body of
Shiva (infinity). From the psychological viewpoint, consciousness is the
surface of a mirror across which reflections of movement pass rapidly.
Consciousness remains immobile.
In the mystical experience it is known that Prakriti in movement and
immobile Purusha are but one. Here the Vaishnavite Tantras bring a
clarifying element to Sāmkhya by saying that the visible movement in
Prakriti is Purusha‘s movement permeating it. The two are no longer
dissociated. Spiritualized Prakriti is nothing more than the form of
Purusha. Mystically, this gives us the following scheme:

Prakriti-Purusha the two movements of existence having become one.

Krishna-Radha the mystical couple par excellence.

Krishna, as Purusha, is fully conscious in the midst of his activity.

Radha, in her transcendental love for Krishna, is in ecstasy (samādhi) even
in her role of prakriti. Psychologically, according to Vaishnavite Tantrism,
Radha, through her passivity, becomes the substratum of the activity of
Krishna-Purusha. The roles are thus reversed, producing the following
diagram:

Shiva— Kali +
passive consciousness active Prakriti

Krishna+ Radha —
active Purusha effacement in love

Shiva-Radha are nirguṇa the transcendental aspect of

existence and power
Kali-Krishna are saguṇa the phenomenal aspect of
existence and power.

That is why, in India, so many children are named Kali-Krishna.

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 35

The Tantric scriptures reveal the necessary deviations making it possible

for creation to escape from the ceaseless mechanical repetitions of prakriti.
If there were no deviations, one could easily imagine creation taking
place without discontinuity between the immobile Purusha and Prakriti
manifested in its numerous aspects. But the primordial energy of śakti
constantly produces deviations, both in the subtle densities of the spirit
and in course densities of matter. Once set in motion, this process cannot
stop. Therein lies the whole chance of creation towards a possible
evolution, and man‘s opportunity to move upwards, provided that the
deviation by broken lines turns upwards in a spiral (kuṇḍalinī). The
amplitude of their curve can be very wide without change of direction.
The curve of deviation can also be repeatedly retraced on the horizontal
plane, attracted by its point of departure. In that case, because of the
endless repetitions that will take place, the primordial energy will be
frittered away and finally lost.
The figure ―3‖ represents the ―Law of three‖, which contains in itself the
whole of life. In the beginning, there was the One, Purusha. From its inner
vibration, the One projected its opposite, as light casts a shadow, which is
its substratum. In this movement, spirit-matter, bound by the energy,
which belongs equally to the one and the other, can become perceptible.
This can be demonstrated in the following manner:

One is the ‗I‘— subject manifested by light — sattva

Two is the ‗I‘— object manifested by shadow — tamas

Between the two aspects of I-subject and I-object the perpetual

movement of life develops, that is, all forms of manifestation on the lower
plane of life. This perpetual movement of energy is rajas.
Thus life, through the energy of rajas, is a development of movements
acting between the two poles of sattva-tamas. From the plane of rajas, which
is ours, a certain state of consciousness can exist in which it is possible to
perceive what is above (sattva) and what is below (tamas).
What is above can be known by sudden intuition or glimpsed through
imagination, but it is impossible to reach it without a shock provoked by
the vision itself. A thorough discipline of the mind is the indispensible
preparation for this.
What is below is the weight of ignorance, the inertia of the primitive
prakriti. It is also the field of individual work. Before discovering the stages
 ■ Laws—Powers ■ 36

leading towards sattva, one must become familiar with the opposition of
heavy matter.
The energy of rajas proceeds from śakti, which holds sway in the space
between sattva and tamas. The energy of rajas is the desire that creates life.
Without this desire, that space would be the Void without movement or
action. Actually, life exists only through a deviation of energy, through
propulsion, which sooner or later returns to its starting point.
This movement of exteriorization and of interiorization seems to vary in
its possibility of extension according to one‘s understanding of it. In fact,
one is in front of a point • (bindu), which contains everything in itself.
When energy creates a movement, this point becomes a straight line. To
return to its starting-point, a deviation is a necessity. The straight line will
break and, through broken lines forming angles, will return to its starting-
point.
Three angles are necessary for a movement to enclose a space and
thereby create a surface, a form. This form is a triangle. Every action can be
described as a triangle. If the angles are equal, the action is perfect and
balanced. The three lines are the qualities of prakriti (guṇas) and the space
is that of śakti spread out and in balance. Śakti can also gather itself together
at the central point (bindu), which signifies, in a perfect action or in a
perfect meditative state — the union of śakti and Purusha, a state of perfect
awakened consciousness.

But life is full of distorted and falsified actions, that is, of triangles with
unequal angles in which the central point has been displaced in relation to
the centre of the perfect triangle. The deviations are caused by unconscious
subjectivity, by the desires and greediness of the individual prakriti.
Innumerable triangles can be formed on the base (tamas) of the triangle,
which are projected up to the line of consciousness. This line is not
continuous; it is made up of an infinity of points that represent short
moments of consciousness.
The following diagrams serve as illustrations:
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 37

While following a spiritual discipline a man tries, at a certain time, by

interiorization during active meditation, to feel in himself the mobile
qualities and tendencies of the inner being. It means coming into contact
with the world in which his own Law of three functions. On our level of
understanding we can perceive the triangle of our life formed by the three
guṇas and the numerous irregular triangles formed by our actions.
The subdivision and expansion of the three guṇas (tamas-rajas-sattva) in
relation to the three fundamental intrinsic qualities of the primiordial
prakriti make up different worlds in accordance with the relative distance
of these worlds from one another. The greater the subdivision of the guṇas,
the greater is the subdivision of the Law of three. A seeker can never have
access to any world higher than his own unless he has completely absorbed
in himself the guṇas of his own world to the point of being one with them.
This means that his inner equilibrium is then brought into accord with his
prakriti.
In the following diagrams, the figures indicate the number of guṇas in
each world. From one world to the next, the number is multiplied by two,
whether the worlds are taken as in the cosmic order or as worlds
interiorized in man. The number represents the subdivision of the Law of
three which becomes heavier the further it moves from the primordial
prakriti. Three guṇas are added in each world to the sum of guṇas from the
preceding world.
 ■ Laws—Powers ■ 38

The triangle shows how three broken lines enclose a surface. This surface
has two dimensions, but there is a third dimension to be attained, in
conformity with a Vedic Law indicating three successive stages. They
follow one another in the manner indicated below:
1. The stage when the potter‘s wheel sets up a circular movement.
2. The stage when the clay placed on the wheel becomes malleable; the
circular movement can then give a form to the clay, but it still remains
on the same level.
3. The stage when a spindle is fixed on the wheel. The clay at once
comes up in a spiral. The hub will even reach a point slightly higher
than the spindle-axis.

This movement explains why there are moments of progression in life

and moments of regression, and time which elapses between these
different movements. In spiritual experience, every man ought to aspire to
raise himself around an axis, and every woman to become a perfect triangle
in order to create perfect forms.
In the following diagram the seeker stands between two triangles. He
who devotes his life to spiritual search, thanks to his inner discipline,
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 39

absorbs the śakti of the triangle of the infinite ideal which is above him.
Below him the downward pointing triangle contains all possible forms of
manifestation.

Perfect yoga in the heart of life is represented by the two integrated

triangles with a single centre. A Master is one who voluntarily enters into
the manifested prakriti. His disciples and pupils are so many reflections of
himself which he recognizes without being attached to them. He stands in
the centre of the two triangles.

As regards the symbol of the triangle, one should know that Tantric
esotericism represents śakti as the water chestnut (śṛṇgātaka), a peculiar
pyramid-shaped fruit growing in swamps. There again you have the idea
of density.
The radiation of energy has two movements, one of them centripetal
and the other centrifugal. The interaction of these two movements
produces the luminous sphere of all existence, technically known as bindu,
the point which is situated in the centre of the pyramid. Creation may
appear and start from any point, going either from the centre outward, or
from the periphery towards the centre. Śakti never stops creating, whether
 ■ Laws—Powers ■ 40

she spreads herself out or concentrates herself within. In fact these

movements are complementary to one another, just as are the phenomena
of denseness and rarefaction.
What we need is to break the inertia that hinders or slows the passage
from one state to another. I use the word tapasyā in speaking of this
movement, and the instantaneous power of transformation in this passage,
whether it be centripetal or centrifugal.

The Vedas tell us that we have a ―father in Heaven‖ and a ―Mother on

Earth.‖ They are linked together by the atmosphere full of clouds, full of
quarrels between the gods and quarrels between the demons, full of book
knowledge and all the philosophies of life. The śāstras and the purāṇās bind
us with chains called spirituality, orthodoxy, politics, castes and economic
conditions.
What does man possess that could eventually free him? As often as not
he is aware of it, for prakriti jealously holds him under her sway. And yet
most of his instinctive movements are right. His original, very primitive
nature can serve him in his thought as in his feelings. And this is his
chance, for he will gradually discover in himself a higher spiritual force
which will lead him to worship the divine Mother in one or another of her
aspects, and an animal force through which he will identify himself with
one of the divine Mother‘s vehicles: tiger, cat, swan, peacock, etc.
The cosmic Laws act on the level of our understanding, but we are able
to perceive only a very few of them. As a result, we can adapt the
conditions of our life only to those Laws we have recognized. The cosmic
Laws operate in time. And the notion of time, beyond our limitations, is
unknown to us. What consciousness of time do people in India have? This
concept is difficult to understand until you integrate it within yourself.
The Tantras indicate a method to realize the zero value of time.
Technically, this value is called bindu. It is said that the pronunciation of a
sacred formula (mantra) takes three moras and a half. The half is the point
(bindu) which contains the all and is attained by drawing in the
consciousness through seven stages, each stage in a geometric progression
with different intervals:
½ + (1/4…1/8…1/16…1/32…1/64…1/128…1/256)…of a mora.
In reality, this is the alternating movement of consciousness in an inner
concentration lasting as long as the recitation of the japa (sacred formulas)
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 41

until one comes in contact with the Void. This bindu, more subtle than the
atom, and Brahman, ―the Vaster than the vast,‖ are the same. Both are the
Void. Time moves between the two. Between the two, there are the coils of
manifestation like the coils of the serpent, which represents the innate force
(śakti). This innate force, also called kuṇḍalinī, is the operative force between
the two modes of the Void.
 ■ Masters and Disciples ■ 42

MASTERS AND DISCIPLES

The disciples, in no matter what ashram, are not attracted primarily by

pure metaphysical research, but by the person and the radiance of the
Guru, who becomes for them the beacon-light on the path, the ideal made
real. Thus the rule of ―loyalty to the Guru‖ immediately comes into play.
The Guru‘s authority (Gurudom) is boundless.
Traditionally, without even being expressed, the Guru‘s promise to his
disciples is as follows: ―I am here to lead you toward liberation. Do my
work obediently and you will be saved. You will know the highest ecstasy
and will be freed from the round of births and death (saṃsāra). If I go to
heaven, you will come to heaven with me; if I go to hell, you will come to
hell with me…‖
The Guru‘s responsibility is immense; he takes upon himself the karma
of all those he accepts. For their part, the disciples are happy to throw their
burden on his shoulders. Is the Master great enough to wish that one of his
disciples would one day be more renowned than himself? If he does not
wish it, a descending Law immediately operates. Owing to the Guru‘s hold
over his disciple, there is often something morbid in their relationship, like
that of father to son when the son is doomed to remain a son without ever
becoming a father.
In the preliminary part of the Sāmkhya discipline, the disciple‘s
relationship to the Guru is compared to a seed that has been buried in the
earth. The seed is left to develop by itself in the heart of what feeds it. It
absorbs the Guru. It will become a plant, bearing foliage, flowers, fruit and
seeds. In so doing, it transcends the ground in which it grew and becomes
directly responsible for its relation with Great Nature and for the life it
contains in itself.

An attitude particularly conducive to rapid progress is that of total

obedience to the Guru in all things: thoughts, attitudes and actions. The
aim is to become the well-tilled ground the Master needs. From tradition,
everyone knows that with rare exceptions this field, ploughed with such
care, will only be used in a future life when the right impulse will take
possession of it. This slow and deep preparation is most important.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 43

Great is the illusion of the man who believes that he can reach the goal
after a few months of efforts! His ambition will be stopped at precisely the
point where he becomes conscious of his personal destination (svadharma),
of his own law as it seeks its own way in the midst of cosmic Laws. This is
equivalent to discovering the Divine that lives in the heart, to serve it, to
worship it but nothing more. A wild rosebush can be forced to produce big
flowers of its kind, but a wild rosebush will never be able to produce
anything but wild roses; any grafting promised by a Guru would mean
that he is an impostor. And pseudo-Gurus are legion! This moment of self-
knowledge is crucial. It means the death of the illusory ideal and often
brings violent reactions. But if the ideal becomes interiorized, that moment
of consciousness will be a feeling of unity on the level of the understanding
attained. Here we are in the very heart of the living power.
At the beginning, a Guru and his disciple are like a mother and child,
joined together by the umbilical cord. There is no tension whatsoever in
this attachment. If there were any, it would mean that the ―psychic being‖
which is to grow and develop between them until it becomes the ―heat‖ of
their blood, would never take shape for the lack of necessary substances.
This psychic being must be nourished with care. It is both cause and
effect, meaning that it exists out of time. That is the reason why there is no
longer any ―why‖ or ―how‖ in a well established relationship between
Guru and disciple. Master and disciple can each say to the other: ―I am
you…‖; the same vibration animates them. One day, the ―child‖ between
them will disappear, when certain vibrations mathematically reach a
known point of reabsorption. Then, life in its reality becomes the Guru.
There are four kinds of devotees:
1. He who becomes a devotee because he is in danger.
2. He who wants to obtain grace, help, health, security from the Master,
or simply to live close to him, for his own sake.
3. He who has a thirst for knowledge. In such a case, the Master‘s
physical person and way of life are of little importance to him.
4. He who knows without being aware of it, who by nature is good soil.
Such a devotee welcomes obstacles on his path because they increase
his determination. He has his own roots. For him, what matters is to
live an experience, no matter how difficult.

Does a Master care for this last kind of devotee? The situation is
illustrated by the story of Lord Nārāyan, who one day was resting after
 ■ Masters and Disciples ■ 44

having stationed two faithful guardians at his door. Jayā (victory) and
Vijayā (total victory), to drive off intruders. Two ṛṣis arrive from afar and
ask to see Nārāyan. A violent quarrel breaks out at the door of the god, so
much so that the ṛṣis curse the two guardians. Awakened by the noise,
Lord Nārāyan appears, bowing to the ṛṣis; at the same time he is also
greatly upset, for nothing can erase the curse the ṛṣis have called down. It
must take effect. So Nārāyan says to his two guardians, ―Since you have
been cursed, you must enter the round of births and deaths, but I can allow
you to choose your fate. Do you wish to be born among my devotees or
among my enemies?‖
―What will be the difference?‖ ask Jayā and Vijayā.
―If you are among my devotees, it will take you seven lives to reach me;
if you are among my enemies, it will only take you three!‖
And so it happened that Jayā and Vijayā willingly became great enemies
of Nārāyan, constantly aware of their hate and therefore constantly
remembering the god in spite of the severe obstacles they had to overcome
to draw near him.
The relationship between Master and disciple is established by an
infallible Law, with a view to the esoteric transmission of the cosmic Laws
and their functioning. Once this relationship is clearly established, one can
neither break out of it nor make decisions for oneself, nor wish to sidestep
the Law once it has been recognized and one‘s part in it discovered. That
would only be mental self-deception.
In this connection what is most difficult to attain is the surrender of the
mind, because for some time, until a real new birth takes place on a
different plane, this surrender seems to be a state of alarming torpor. To
accept this state of passivity is always painful.
During all this period the subjective attachment of the disciple to the
Guru exists in contrast to the objective love of the Guru for his disciple.
What the Master can transmit is neither an idea nor a form, but a means.
The Kaushitaki Upanishad1 describes the traditional way in which the dying
―father‖ passes on his power to his ―son.‖
It can be interpreted as the passing on of power from the Guru to his
disciple: ―Let me place within you my word, my breath, and my vision;
what I perceive, what I taste, likewise my actions, pains and pleasures; the
concepts to which I have been attached, and my search itself. In you I place
my spirit and my consciousness. I give you the breath of my life (prāṇa).

1 2.15
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 45

May power, sanctity and honours go with you…‖. The son or disciple
answers, ―May your words be fulfilled…Go in peace!‖
In the life of the Buddha, this moment is the one when he set the wheel
of the Law in motion within those around him, saying, ―Go, and speak of
the Law for the benefit of many. When the soil is well tilled sow one seed
of knowledge in it, nothing else, and go on further.‖
Every Guru has only a very few key ideas at the root of his teaching.
These ideas are the very ones that brought him to his realization. No
others. He will constantly bring his teaching back to the fruits of his
personal effort, which keep his spiritual experience alive.
Some Masters try to express these ideas by a single key word, others
dilute them with explicit formulations in order to pass them on to a larger
number of disciples. So there are two methods, that of interiorization and
that of exteriorization, which the orthodox Hindu recognizes at once. Both
of them are traditional. Both of them demand total sacrifice and cost dearly.
No Master transmits the totality of what he has received. As soon as he
feels in accordance with the Laws known to him, he utilizes them like
chemical formulae, transmitting only fragments to those around him. On
the other hand, no fragment of knowledge is ever transmitted before the
disciple has perceived it or had a foretaste of it. In summary, the Master is
nothing other than an indispensible intermediary between the Laws and
those who are ready to discover them. Nor does he ever teach more than a
tenth of what he knows. Likewise, air is only a tenth part of ether, and
water only a tenth part of air, and so forth. It cannot be otherwise. The
Master cannot allow his strength to be further utilized. This explains why
there is such a rapid degradation between the level of the Guru and that of
the third generation of his disciples. A well-known cosmic Law comes into
play here.
What is important to the Master, after having consciously reached the
zenith of his upward curve, is to see the downward curve with equal
consciousness and to choose the point from which he will teach. This point
will keep constantly moving in response to his own living search.
Every saint or Guru speaks according to a particular ―principle‖,
adopted and faithfully served, in which lives a hidden Truth. The Guru is
perfectly aware of this. This fragment of Truth belonging to ultimate reality
is the only thing of real value, whereas the principle in itself, on the human
level, merely helps to create the strict form of a discipline.
 ■ Masters and Disciples ■ 46

Certain sacred formulas (mantras) have been revealed and many

commentaries written. Their form is known, even to the number of
vibrations in each letter. But only the Guru knows their bījas, which are his
potent semen or seed. He never reveals them. Were he to do so, he himself
would become like an empty vessel. Whether the death of the Guru occurs
after he has passed on his seed or after he has let it be reabsorbed in
himself is of no importance, for the disciple who is a Master by nature will
have found by himself the exact resonance of the bījas in his Guru‘s mantra.
In the Tantras, the mantra has four forms:
1. It is given in a detailed form as in a hymn (stotra).
2. It is condensed into one formula (mālā).
3. This formula is condensed into a single word (nāma).
4. This word becomes only a pure sound (bīja).
The mind must be led from the hymn to the bīja, which is the seed, the
pure vibration that gives birth to the psychic body of the disciple.

There are great Masters and small Masters. Both of them do exactly the
same work, for great Masters are for great disciples and small Masters for
small disciples. The relationship between Master and disciple is the same in
both cases.
The disciples, because of their avidity and competitive spirit, are always
anxious to discover the sources from which their Master has drawn his
knowledge. Some of them ask questions, discuss and argue; others even
demand proof. And what do they find? Nothing worthwhile, for the
Master transmits what has become his own substance. It is through this
substance that the disciple will taste what he is able to assimilate of any
given Law.
No matter what stage he has reached, a disciple must learn not to talk
about what he has received. All experiences, spectacular and fleeting, are
no more than the vision of the level he is trying to reach. To believe in them
and talk about them is a pure illusion of the ego. Because of this, a period
of silence after each experience is a wise measure of protection.
Sometimes, faced with a difficulty of understanding, the disciple blames
this on his Guru and goes away; he is driven downward without being
aware of it, caught by the Law of gravity. And so he becomes a parasite in
the spiritual search, fed by his ego.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 47

Every great Guru, when the time comes, drives away, from himself and
from those close to him, the disciple to whom over a long period he has
given a great deal. He releases him from all bonds, blesses him and
entrusts him with a special task to fulfill, for ―there cannot be two tigers in
the same forest.‖
The disciple who is called to leave is fundamentally different from the
disciples who live under the direct inspiration of the Master. He takes
away with him a seed to be sown where he goes. He leaves without anyone
knowing it, after he has secretly received from the Master the ―gift of
power‖ which will be his support in life.
This is the origin of the tradition of wandering. The one who goes away
changes his name. His trace is lost. No one asks about him. On the lower
vital plane, the wild-cat, when the right time comes, drives her kittens
away from her. At the risk of their lives, they must find their own living
space and hunting ground.
The disciple who leaves possesses nothing except the fact of his
belonging to the Laws, for he has been fed by the Guru‘s essence. Either he
will grow and develop with fresh vigour, because of the very separation he
has lived through and the difficulties that await him, or he will perish
without anyone hearing about it. In the latter case, he becomes humus
useful to prakriti, a humus with a definite function to fulfil, however
humble.
On the other hand, most of a Master‘s disciples remain close to him all
their lives. They are a necessity for the Guru, just as the presence of the
Guru is a necessity for them. These disciples have a precise role to fill. They
are the fine matter which the Master uses to manifest his work in Prakriti.
Without them, the Master would be merely a radiance, but through their
presence these disciples establish the circle in which the Master‘s vibrations
create the ferment of possible evolution.
Until the disciple assumes his responsibilities, it is the Master‘s stomach
that works and digests for him. But the disciple continues to question his
Master: ―Who are you?‖ Krishnamurti answers by saying: ―I have never
read any sacred books…‖ The disciples of Ma Anandamayi cut things short
with the words: ―She has never received anything from anyone, since she
already knew everything when she was born!‖ Also, one could answer
with another question: ―Who can tell what the Pathans, that proud people
of the Northern Frontier, are made of?‖ They were originally Aryans who
 ■ Masters and Disciples ■ 48

became Muslims after having been Buddhist; but above all, they are to this
day the vigorous children of their own land.
Some of the disciples who left their ashram have acted like all the
mystics who, at a given moment, called the crowds to them. Likewise, Shri
Ramakrishna in his exaltation used to climb to the roof of the temple at
Dakshineshvar near Calcutta and, weeping, would cry out, ―Come to me
from everywhere, disciples! So that I may teach you…I am ready!‖ Others,
like Shri Ramana Maharshi, through their silence and concentration have
compelled those who approached them to ask themselves the question,
―Who am I?‖
Among ―the independents‖ wandering about, there were those called
chārvākas because they rebelled against all learned, expounded orthodoxies.
Some have found fame without looking for it. Some have allowed
followers to gather around them. Others have repeatedly fled from the
slavery created by the excessive solicitude of their disciples. Still others
have accepted this bondage with a definite aim known to them alone.
Many of them have lived incognito in the midst of the world, hidden in the
crowd and have died without leaving any apparent trace. Since the
chārvākas have never been written about, it is only indirectly, through the
reactions they aroused, that their name has circulated by word of mouth.
The orthodox followers of every tradition have pursued and persecuted
them, considering their freedom and influence too great.
Should one attempt to say what chārvākas are? It is written that
Brihaspati, a Vedic sage,1 was their ancestor. Fragments of their teachings
are scattered throughout the Kaṭha Upanishad, the Mahābhārata, and also the
Buddhist texts, since in the time of the Buddha, their voice was listened to
very attentively. But their enemies gave such distorted descriptions of their
positivist, anti-ritualistic philosophy centered on the search for the ―I‖ that
later they hid themselves with their well-guarded secret. They knew the
paths leading to knowledge.

There is an enormous disparity between quality and quantity; quality

hides within, whereas quantity spreads outward.
He who possesses the gift of captivating the imagination of the many
and of transforming it into creative imagination is a born Guru. When a
lamp is used, its light loses none of its brilliance, but when one takes a

1 Teacher of the Vedic gods.

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 49

pound of sugar out of a bag of provisions it leaves an empty space in the

mass of material. When receiving the darśhan1 of a Master, one touches the
spirit itself, but as soon as one makes arrangements to stay close to him, the
―downward curve‖ begins and the Law of gravity immobilizes the spirit.
One cannot escape from this Law, nor from its process of
materialization. Owing to its constantly moving densities, matter will
always be either somewhat more or somewhat less receptive to spirit.
The Guru sees what is happening with an intelligence that is not the
intelligence of his disciples. He dwells at the centre of an esoteric circle
which, of course, carries its own limitations; but this circle is far above the
circle in which the disciples move. In comparison with them, he is living in
knowledge.
However, the Guru is well aware that this knowledge is relative, and
that he himself is a seeker in relation to knowledge existing in the circle
above him. A Guru who thinks he has reached the end of his search would
be an imposter; a disciple who imagines him thus to satisfy himself would
be a fantatic, cutting himself off from the Laws, from the ascending and
descending movements that support life.

Why would you want the moment of knowledge to last? Even Brahmā
cannot keep what he creates for himself! Everything springs from him and
immediately flows out. Millions of gods or of Laws at once take possession
of it. We are a humble part of those who are trying to swim up-stream. And
what do we find? Close by we hear the repeated calls of Krishnamurti, who
is becoming impatient, because, despite the shocks he produces, Great
Nature does not transform itself. He halts people caught in the
circumstances of life and cries, ―Stop! Understand who you are!
Understand what you are doing!‖
Elsewhere, in the sphere she governs, the Mother of Sri Aurobindo‘s
ashram declares, ―O Nature, material Mother, you said that you would
collaborate in the transformation of man; and there is no limit to the
splendour of such collaboration.‖ The unfolding of time enters into play
here, in the very play of prakriti.
Mā Ānandamayī was the first in history, faithful, moreover, to the
Buddhist tradition still widespread in Bengal, to roam about Northern

1To be in the Master‘s presence, to be seen by him; the establishment of a current

between Master and disciple.
 ■ Masters and Disciples ■ 50

India, stopping to sleep and eat only in temple resthouses, completely cut
off from the rhythm of life. For years she lived almost continually in
ecstasy without any relationship with her surroundings. She returned
gradually to the human state, at first unconsciously through a known
process. Now she has voluntarily returned within the rhythm of Prakriti to
transmit her experience to those around her and teach a way of possible
expansion.
What tools will the Master use? The ones that suit him best. What
difference is there between a bare room like the one in which we are
speaking together now and a room filled with a hodgepodge like a bazaar?
The Master utilizes the means that are needed to bring his disciple to him.
Some day perhaps, if such is his wish and need, he will take the very bones
of his disciple, crush them, make a pie out of them and offer them to the
gods. He can make use of the trust the disciple has placed in him, his
submission, and even the essence of his being (bhūta), to the uttermost
limits.
So what remains of the disciple, once his bones have been crushed?
Nothing. For him it is death. There are deliberate deaths in which the blood
flows, as in many temple sacrifices where the bodies of the decapitated
goats keep on jumping and twitching until all life departs. What is it that is
freed by death? There is also the secret of dogs, those beasts branded by the
curse of impurity, who hide under a bush to die with a dignity the
sannyāsins envy and hope to have at the moment of their own death. One of
the hardest commandments in the initiation into sannyāsa is: ―When the
day comes, know how to die like the dog, with dignity, unnoticed.‖
Does the disciple know that by his death he is serving the ―essence of
the Guru?‖ Can ashes know what use they have? If he so desires, the Guru
can swallow up his disciple. He can use the liberated energy, just as we do
in eating the food we need. The interdependence of functions exists; it is
right and normal. The Bhagavad Gītā states clearly how few out of a million
pass through the narrow gate. But the aspiration is there. How can we
know what is above us, since we only control the relationship of the planes
of consciousness that we have acquired? That is why death in the ―Guru‘s
essence‖ is the highest goal we can desire. We cannot lift our prakriti any
higher. The best we can do is to unify, in all our reactions, the raw material
of our nature with the movements of the spirit and to place these reactions
in the heart—the heart that becomes the ―seat of the Guru‖ (gadi). This
movement in itself is the voluntary death of the ego. It is only in this
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 51

voluntary death that the Guru sees what is permanent in us: the fact of
existing (sat). He can only give it form and animate it. In this he is like the
Creator in Genesis, removing one of Adam‘s ribs to free the divine śakti who
is ready to give birth. Without this shock coming from above, no
transformation is possible.
Another transformation is to give birth in ourselves to śakti‘s child. This
child will manifest a different prakriti than ours, different in quality. The
child will call right away for a plaything. He must hold something in his
hands to have the pleasure of throwing it on the ground, of picking it up, of
giving it away, and taking it back, without any logic in his movements, just
for the sake of moving around and discovering what life is. So always
surround yourselves with plenty of toys, for yourselves and for others…
 ■ Method and Teaching ■ 52

METHOD AND TEACHING

How can one conceive of pure Existence (sat) in the heart of life? A
characteristic feature of thought is to transmute the concrete into the
abstract; and in the end, thought becomes interested only in the abstract. It
is a kind of escape. The relation with life is then simply cut off. But when
man, impelled by his desire to know himself, resolutely looks into himself,
he resists the temptation to be carried away by the abstract.
In this regard, the energy that has been withdrawn from the outer realm
will quite naturally become more intense as it reaches the inner realm. If
this intensity is merely the repercussion of a shock coming from life in the
world, it may devastate the field of consciousness. Having been damaged,
consciousness no longer has any aim. But if this intensity is knowingly
guided, it can lead to the perception of pure Existence (sat), in which the
polarity between subject and object is resolved in a feeling of identity.
This experience, in which the dualities arising from the polarity of
consciousness cease through natural absorption, lies beyond all other
experiences in the midst of life. It is a creative matrix which gives birth to
new forms. This is an important experience even in its very early stages.
During a certain period the need for quietude can be dominant, but to
attribute to it a negative value would be to fail to recognize the rhythm of
Nature. It would be more exact to see it as a prelude to the need to create.
In fact, when a pupil plunges into himself, his force appears to be lost. This
force will reappear, but where and when? It is precisely during this period
that the true Guru gives active protection and support to his disciple.
We look on confidently at all the movements of interiorized
consciousness. It seems sometimes to be passive, inert, like dead matter,
but actually it is a living force with a quite definite quality of feeling. In this
respect, a perception has to be evaluated according to the quality of energy
it frees in the realm of feeling and in the realm of will. In the realm of will,
it becomes dispassionate and disinterested action, and in that of feeling it
becomes the sublimation of some fundamental emotions of the heart.
In practice, quietude can easily appear like a high place from which to
face life‘s problems. In that case, the technique to be followed consists in
counterbalancing all positive energy with negative energy, knowing that
both come from the Void. Without deviation, consciousness then takes a
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 53

direction that it will maintain. All along the way its own vigilance is able to
transform the emotional movements it encounters, even to the point that
one can speak of the absorption of shocks through an absence of inner
resistance. This is not inactivity, for will is present, operating in the realm
of time with a clear vision of what reality is. This vision (kavikratu) has
already been described by the Vedic sages.
The ‗space-time‘ concept of the Upanishads has become the measure of
existence in which everything ―moves without movement,‖ for all
movement, in the end, is merely the displacement of what is contained in a
seed, a seed that is self-sufficient, withdrawing into itself if it chooses.
Thus, a seed of thought can, at any instant of its development, intensify its
energies in perceiving its existence. It has no necessity to evolve, and yet it
does evolve! Therein lies the mystery beyond intellect, the static state of the
dynamism of pure Existence (sat) in life.

In the śāstras there is an oft-repeated precept that one should never

speak in vain of one‘s spiritual experiences. If you do so, it shows that you
have nothing yet in your own being that is valid and able to preserve the
current of power that has come down to you. He who readily talks about
himself is like a little child who runs to his mother to tell her about
everything he came across while he was playing.
Before you speak about an experience, you must learn to observe it in
silence for a long time. First, it has to find its place in you, to be clarified
and to bear fruit. In short, it must become yours. While this is going on, life
is reduced to a few movements and a few expressed thoughts.
The Great Manu1 taught three important rules which should never be
forgotten:
1. Speak only when you are questioned.
2. Remain silent if you are asked an illogical question or if you detect a
disguised motive in it.
3. Keep silent among fools; play with them on their level.

1 The person thought to be the father of the human race. He is credited with a code of
laws which has retained considerable authority up to the present day.
 ■ Method and Teaching ■ 54

Never uphold your personal ideas in discussion with a saint, a wise

man, a paṇḍit, nor with a Brahmin who knows the Vedas, nor yet with your
parents.
The yogi‘s role is not to be a saviour of souls; but by the fact of
persistently and deliberately working on his own ego, he impels an inner
power in us that will open our eyes to our own egos.
When one has consciously set out on the path of search, there is no
turning back. It is as though one were intoxicated. But the impetus of the
start is often slowed down by all the heavy and useless burdens we carry
with us.
In an episode of the Avadhūta1 the crow tells a story: ―I was flying with a
piece of meat in my beak. Twenty crows were chasing me and quarrelling,
trying to grab it. I had to fly high and fool them. I was weary. Suddenly, I
dropped the piece of meat and saw the twenty crows in a great hurry and
with loud cawings gliding down after it and fighting over it. Then I shook
my wings. How wonderful it felt not to have anything to carry. All the sky
belonged to me!‖
Every spiritual discipline is a detailed work. After a period of conscious
efforts, there is always a period of temporary retreat, of ―cave life,‖ to
attain mastery over the disorderly movements of prakriti, which defends
itself and attacks in a sly way. We should not talk about the force of
prakriti. It remains a secret.
During this period three rules should be followed:
1. Be humble so as to disarm that which resists.
2. Accept everything.
3. Be intimate with no one.
If these three rules are respected, the ―abstract sound‖ propelling the
effort will remain pure.
The couch grass that has encroached a field causes great havoc.
Likewise, in man, an objective vision, even if fragmentary, works on him
and cannot be uprooted. Once one has learned to see, one can no longer
live like a blind man. Every question, whatever it is, carries its own answer
and reveals the prison of him who asks it. The Master touches the sensitive
point where the freedom he reveals and the disciple‘s obscurities confront
one another. One could also say that, at the point where the liberty of the

1 Book XI, chapters 7-10 of the Bhāgavatapurāṇaṃ, a vast treatise probably dating from
the sixth century.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 55

disciple who is progressing comes up against the discipline demanded by

the Guru, then that discipline appears like a prison.

An unusual quality of courage is needed to follow the advice, ―Rely only

on yourself!‖ This is the same as saying, ―Isolate and cultivate the direct
experience you are living until it becomes a part of yourself. Do not reveal
it until you are able to connect it with something known and precise.‖
The difficulty arises from the fact that one is surrounded by other
disciples, each of whom remains enclosed in concern for his own personal
discipline. Everyone is working by himself. The same holds true for the
gods. In every temple, each god is seated on his own lotus flower. But
collectively the gods are the permanent supports of a definite effort,
whereas in their individual efforts disciples have only a momentary
stability.
If you ask an old disciple or a co-disciple to help you, he will stay close
to you, but if you do not follow his way, he will exclude you from his
thoughts. At any moment you risk feeling rejected by the group of
disciples. To pass from one level of understanding to another is equivalent
to a surgical operation. Many lack the courage to get over the obstacles
before them and in order not to see them, they ―ossify‖ their base, which
gives them a rock of certainty to hang on to. From then on, such disciples
are always talking about their sincerity as being an essential quality of yoga,
whereas the man who is daring enough to follow the Law in its farthest
ramifications is the one who makes the ―spiritual discovery.‖
There is in man such anguish, such dissatisfaction with himself that
even if he had thousands of words at his disposal, they would not suffice to
express it. His pursuit of all the things by which he seeks some solace will
never bring him the inner peace desired. And how could it be otherwise?
Every path he follows is thorny. Disgusted by the difficulties, he abandons
one path after another. Until he awakens to himself, and realizes that he is
in fact the owner of his own field, he will lament but he will never acquire
the plough-share and the plough with which to till it thoroughly!
While meditating, one is often tempted either to force the mind to
pursue a definite line or to get rid of the influx of thoughts. However, the
only correct way is to harmonize the waves of impressions with the
indispensable plane of peace. The ritual of the Vaishnavites, the
worshippers of Vishnu, gives valuable indications on this subject: instead
of torturing the mind in order to make it pass through the eye of a needle,
 ■ Method and Teaching ■ 56

one must draw to oneself the full ―life of the body‖ and the entire
―consciousness of the body‖ in order to serve the Divine in a particular
aspect, to receive him, to surround him and to worship him. Thus, little by
little, a unity of consciousness is established, which makes use of all the
levels of the being and all conscious and unconscious efforts. Then peace
and impressions become one.
In spiritual disciple, movements of attraction and repulsion are normal
until such time as one reaches a certain equilibrium. Four levels have to be
passed through to reach the concept of the Void:
1. Primordial ignorance.
2. The plane of the ego, which is the matter of prakriti with pleasure
and pain in all their forms.
3. The ―I‖ that makes it possible to observe oneself.
4. The Void that is everything and nothing.

Primitive man in darkness (tamas) is very close to his animal instincts,

very close to the earth with a consciousness that is not awakened. For him,
to have reached the plane of the ego is an achievement with which he will
remain for a long time, perhaps for several successive lives, before an
impulse of another order arises. For Nature allows only a very slow
development. She is more inclined to favour a change of species than a
change of consciousness.
One of the great Sāmkhya disciplines is the idea of returning to what is
basically primitive in us, to the point where, for the first time, an act of
conscious will has given a direction to the current of life. This discipline
proposes, through methodical observation, to follow the path of thought
―backward‖ as well as in its normal development. Then we perceive that
the only foods or substances that have permanent value are those that issue
from the essence of the being, whereas everything that has come from
outside has been almost obliterated. To find this point again is equivalent
to seeing clearly when and how our personal destiny (dharma) is formed.
Each time this takes place, it produces a shock which makes a step forward
possible.

Spirit and matter are two different aspects of the same reality. Every
creation is generated in the Void. The same is true of the resistance
engendered in the equipotential field of energy. Resistance creates the
sensation of a compact entity we term body or matter.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 57

Thus, on the one hand, one can say that the body is nothing but the
accomplishment of the spirit. On the other hand, one can say that spirit is
like the blazing of the body when it is consuming its own energy. Life is the
automatic combustion of the body. Heat is transformed into light. So one
has the following parallelism:
matter—heat—light
body—life—spirit
If you conceive of reality as coming down from the spirit to the body, you
are following the teaching of Sāmkhya. If you start with the body to rise
toward the spirit, you are seekers. But if, with an ever wakeful attention,
you perceive clearly the interrelation between the descending and
ascending movements, you can dare to work in both ways. Then you are
on the path of Tantrism. May you one day pursue a true Tantric discipline
in the broadest and noblest meaning of the word.
Certainly the most authentic picture of Shri Ramakrishna is the one
given by Swami Vivekananda, who saw in him a fully realized man. If Shri
Ramakrishna submitted to a Tantric discipline for nine years, it was in
order to escape from the imprisonment within himself caused by the
notions of ―good‖ and ―evil‖, and to be able later to utilize them freely.
For those who only saw Shri Ramakrishna at the end of his life, it is easy
to say that he was born in a state of grace and followed no yoga to show the
way; hence the assertion expressed in a meeting of paṇḍits that he was born
an incarnation (avatār). This is to ignore the entire Tantric period of his life,
just as many years in the life of Christ are ignored and unknown.

The seated position (āsana) is for each of us the one we naturally come
back to in order to find ourselves again. In this position there is no tension.
The body is flexible.
―I find in myself again the form of myself, which is well known to me in
every detail, for nothing is left to chance. I am seated quietly, my spinal
column erect. I am looking straight ahead. Even if at first my eyes are
closed, they continue to look straightahead. I know how I sit, how I get up,
how I walk, how I hold my head and place my hands.‖
Each of these movements is a voluntary movement connected with the
āsana that makes it possible to collect oneself in a quiet moment.
Everything is related to the dignity of the inner being. In life, everyone uses
the body for the role one has to play. This body is both instrument and
 ■ Method and Teaching ■ 58

vehicle; the first duty is to care for it. Each gesture takes place by itself in a
moment of interiorization, without the intervention of the will or of
thought.
There is much to be said about the secret role of the ―locks‖ in the body.
To preserve one‘s force and energy during moments of interiorization, a
certain automatism must be gradually acquired. This is an automatic
system of detection for catching any kind of contraction, since the slightest
tension is an indication of a wrong direction. In brief:
1. The chin will tilt toward the chest. This movement happens of itself;
it corresponds to a certain letting go of tension in the spinal column,
which releases the knots in the nerves. Then the abdomen
spontaneously becomes conclave. These two movements are so
closely connected that they are practically one, with a slight lapse of
time between them.
2. Another automatic movement follows: namely, the extension of the
chest, without any hardening.
3. The anus closes without any contraction, giving the energy an
upward direction. The closed anus is the nadir point of a current that
must be maintained. If this ―lock‖ is not closed, the inner body will
be progressively invaded by depressive and negative emotions that
have no connection with the realm of true sensation.

When a perfect chord vibrates between Master and disciple, a

continuous conversation proceeds between them without any words being
uttered. This takes place even without inner dialogue. At this stage the
function of speech is no longer activated because the inner organs
(indriyas), which link the five sense-organs to their objects, no longer play a
role.
On both sides, communication then becomes pure vibration. One of the
conditions of this state is to be able to think without words. So long as
words or any formulation arise in thought or in prayer, it means that this
vibration, which is in itself creative, is not taking place.
The constant repetition of a sacred word (mantra), at first consciously,
then rapidly in a mechanical and unconscious way (japa), is one means of
minimizing the consciousness of the ego. On the other hand, the voluntary
discipline of silence, one or two fixed hours during the day, or a whole day
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 59

each week, leads by stages to that inner silence which is one of the most
delicate of disciplines.
The vibration of thought and of speech without words has no
connection with telepathy. On a certain level this vibration exists between
Master and disciple because they share the same vision.
The work of inner silence is concerned with reaching the seed-bed of
thought, which is the only way to return to the initial movement of the
inner organs of perception. At that moment everything around you fades
away of itself. It is a strange mode of perception in which the will no longer
interferes. The voluntary stopping of thought leads to direct contact with
the initial point of silence where the basic note of all known harmonics
resounds.
Thus we come to a very few thoughts, through which one single
―sound‖ says many things. For instance, ―ā‖ means: come, enter, approach,
hold what I give you, etc., ―yā‖ means: go out, it is finished, this is not the
moment, etc. Thus, between silence and a flood of words, one can live with
some ten syllables in whose vibrations it is possible to understand
languages one does not know.
Along this same line of ideas, it is astonishing to see how the questions
put to a Master are all alike. If Shri Ramana Maharshi lived for so long
amidst his own people without speaking, it is because his basic note
responded to all the vibrations of the people around him.

Every master of Sāmkhya speaks about the plurality of ―I‖s. He will say,
in different ways, that at the start, the ―I‖ towards which all the ―I‘s‖
converge is only theoretically the Void. Through a meticulous discipline
you draw close to an ―I‖ from which you can calmly observe yourself.
From there the world is seen with all its mechanical movements; from
there, for brief moments, you may have a glimpse of that ―I‖ which is the
Void.
The next step cannot be taught by any book. It must be lived degree by
degree, and lived with the Master holding one‘s hand. It is the slow
discovery that finally there is no ―I‖ but only ―that which is active‖ in you.
At that moment something can take place, but the vision is so fugitive that
the least movement can destroy it. It is there, both inside and outside. We
experience it and see it at the same time. We also see the mechanicity of all
those things that come from nowhere and go nowhere. If we do not see this
with eyes full of wonder, we then have an impression of self-extinction. But
 ■ Method and Teaching ■ 60

if we find ourselves in the midst of unexpected miracles, the movement of

prakriti ceases for an instant, and we are totally one with an impression of
life and of a spiritual radiance.
At that moment the disciple can say: ―I am seized by a real feeling of
dissociation. I am not here… I am not there… Where am I? Anguish could
grip me, but a readjustment is certain, I have only to wait for it. I know it
will take place, I can trust it, as it is automatic! I shall find myself again
facing prakriti with whom I can now play in the movement of
manifestation.‖ In that instant, the ego will have faded.
The Void exists. Two Sanskrit terms make this clear: pudgala-nairātmya,
the Void within the ego; and dharma-nairātmya, the Void of the twelve,
twenty-four and forty-eight cosmic Laws. Having arrived at this point of
comprehension, it is possible to see how prakriti works.
Tantric teaching demonstrates that all life is born from the Void,
including the gods and goddesses and the higher and the lower Prakriti.
The Void is the matrix of universal energy.
It is difficult to realize that everything takes place inevitably at the
moment when it is normal for something to happen. We do not want to
admit that for Prakriti, man, animal, plant or mineral are merely a reserve
of humus. And she needs a great deal of it. All natural cataclysms are
necessities. Only the quality of the humus matters to Prakriti. In this order
of things, man plays a definite role of which he is still unconscious. Those
who are becoming progressively less enslaved by nature, often have a very
refined natural intelligence. This natural intelligence knows how to make
full use of what is recorded by the senses as well as of recurrences of every
kind.

The first question asked by man: ―Why?‖ brings about a considerable

change. With that he becomes the enemy of Prakriti, and she defends
herself. And yet, so long as he asks ―why‖ he will make no progress
because everything manifested in him, so even in a subtle way, like the
spirit, is still Prakriti, including his search and its ascending movement.
The Vedas mention a precise moment when the immobile has become
the mobile, and another moment when the mobile becomes the
undifferentiated.
It is not possible to approach the ―why‖ of the first cause since there is
no logical answer to it, but the question remains as to ―how‖ did the first
movement that ever existed occur. This penetrates into the heart of the
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 61

process of creation and the cosmic Laws. The fineness of the sensation of a
real immobility of the body which has reached a state without any tension,
and the subtlety of the elements composing the multiple envelopes (koṣas)
of the psychic body, make it possible for thought to become the seat of a
passive experience. Then it may be that a certain sensation of existing is
manifested, which is very similar to the life hidden in a seed, a life of full
power without any apparent movement.
Even if this sensation of existing were perceived for only a fraction of a
second, it would nevertheless suffice to know what took place at the instant
when the ―immobile‖ became the ―mobile,‖ or as expressed in more usual
terms—for to know what took place at the instant of the first spontaneous
vibration between the ―immobile‖ and the ―mobile.‖ Here one touches a
clearly scientific problem in which the intervention of imagination would
only be confusing.
He who truly goes through the experience of ―non-being‖ in a state of
deep meditation feels suddenly filled by such a surge of life that, for that
very reason, the question of the ―why‖ of things no longer exists for him.
This surge of life is the imperative descent of non-being to being. It is at the
same time an all-pervading sensation and a recognizable flavour. It is a
certitude that wipes out every question.
One has evidence of this process in the certainty with which Shri
Ramakrishna gave himself up to ecstasies that sometimes lasted several
days. Shri Ramakrishna knew very well that there would come a moment
when this surge of life would take place; it is the evident return to life in
the layers of the body and the reappearance of known sensations, while
passing through all the stages of consciousness.
No great yogi goes into contemplation or deep meditation before
knowing with precision the Laws of re-connection or, in other words, the
limits of this temporary flight. He need fear no surprises, knowing as he
does through experience the exact relationship between all the elements at
his disposal; but for the disciples around him, who look after his body, this
process naturally takes on the appearance of a miracle. The disciples see
what is happening only from the outside. In fact, there is here an
experience of which the yogi alone knows the exact formula. It cannot be
transmitted; it cannot be communicated, because it is the result of an exact
connection between pure Existence (sat) and the innate essence of the man
who attempts the experience.
 ■ Method and Teaching ■ 62

He who, even once in his life and for a fraction of a second, has touched
that point X in which the ―mobile‖ emerges from the ―immobile,‖ or,
conversely, the point at which the ―mobile‖ becomes the ―immobile‖, has
perceived in himself something of pure Consciousness (chit). He has
perceived the undifferentiated, which is living! Alas, at the very moment
he becomes aware of it, from fear of losing it, he gives it a name and form
(nāma-rūpa) under the illusion that he will be better able to find it again.
And yet, what was alive has faded away, the sensation has vanished.
Symbolically, this is the moment when Shiva, seeing himself for the first
time in a mirror, is overjoyed by the sight of this ‗second,‘ which he
discovers and which becomes manifestation. This is the end of the divine
solitude.
We feel rested after a night‘s sleep, and this is so even though this
completely unconscious sleep is a return to the matrix of life. People in
whom nothing is awakened literally fall asleep without knowing how to
―detach‖ something in themselves that will remain unconscious. In their
heavy state of tamas, they are not even aware that they are asleep.
The best way to go to sleep is to do it consciously. Patanjali has pointed
out four kinds of sleep, closely related to the guṇas:
1. Heavy sleep in the unconsciousness of tamas, which is a kind of
stupor.
2. Sleep filled with dreams and bewildering elements coming from
rajas.
3. Sleep in which something remains alert because a quality of
consciousness doesn‘t entirely disappear. In this kind of sleep, the
being consciously seizes something coming from sattva. Something
remains like an impression of night illumined by the moon.
4. Conscious sleep in which one touches the mystery of truth.

At the moment when consciousness fades away into sleep, a flash can be
perceived that is exactly like the flash at the moment of awakening. These
two flashes are of the same nature, of the same substance. It is said,
symbolically, that this brightness lights up the head behind the forehead
and is diffused throughout the head. It is represented by the moon which
always adorns the forehead of Shiva.
Conscious sleep resembles the sleep of a mother who is sleeping beside
her child. The child‘s sleep is tamasic. The mother is resting, but
nevertheless her sleep has a quality of alertness on account of the presence
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 63

of the baby, whereas a part of herself makes use of a conscious sleep that is
fed by the forces of life.
There is a detailed technique for attaining this ‗yogic sleep,‘ which is no
longer entirely mechanical and no longer obeys psychological laws. Nor
has it anything to do with the natural sleep of a healthy man. That is why
one of the first questions a Guru asks his disciple is ―How do you sleep?‖
and his first concern is to teach him gradually to sleep without dreaming.
Another question will be ―How long do you sleep?‖ The answer depends
on the importance attached to nocturnal vigils and meditations which are
an obstacle to physiological sleep, when the silent night should be a time
primarily devoted to a gradual work of conscious interiorization, followed
by voluntary sleep in a state of awakened consciousness. This sleep, in a
body without fatigue and without tensions (except for the minimal fatigue
caused by the wear and tear of time) and in a studied posture, which is
always the same,1 becomes the field of many experiences.
Learn how to go to sleep consciously, starting from a very sensitive
waking state, for the descent into voluntary sleep in a state of awakened
consciousness has a counterpart. It is the awakening in awakened
consciousness, which likewise demands a precise discipline.
If you know this state of awakened consciousness in sleep, then you
have become like the silk thread of a necklace from which all the pearls
have been unstrung, one by one, in a given order. The pearls can be
restrung consciously, one by one beginning with the last, in the same
rhythm with which they were unstrung. A vigilant eye follows the process.
While the pearls continue to be added to one another, an X period of time
will pass and, as the last pearl is added, the eyes will open. Was one really
asleep or not? The answer is ―yes and no.‖
Shri Ramakrishna often spoke about this awakened consciousness
during voluntary sleep. He said, ―Enter voluntary sleep starting from the
heart and not from a lower centre.‖ To picture this experience, one must
imagine a lamp lit in the heart. Concentrate on the heart and move
progressively to the higher planes that you know. Then, when you are sure
of yourself and it is possible for you to fill all the centres of your body in
the same way, without suppressing your natural impulses such as desires,
greediness and passion, try it. This method has been confirmed by many
yogis.

1See the Buddha‘s posture, lying on his right side, the right arm under the head, the left
foot resting on the right foot.
 ■ Observation of Oneself ■ 64

OBSERVATION OF ONESELF

In observing oneself, the first thing to do is to discover whether it is the

intellect, the will, or emotions that predominate in ourselves. Even if one of
the three plays the part of hero, the others nonetheless exist. To establish
coordination between the three is a long, and exacting labour. Without this
co-ordination, one of these elements will develop abnormally, and then
neither the Master nor the pupil will be able to do anything about it.
To discover yourself, try to abandon your thoughts. Try to return
consciously to animal life, to what is most primitive in you; at that
moment, you will know what really belongs to you. Later, another
experience will be to return consciously to the life of the plant. A plant
produces flowers in its own good time, without any publicity. And these
flowers provide food for butterflies.
In observing oneself, nothing is necessary but these voluntary ―returns‖
which allow us to discover what is positive and negative in us. The true
work is to integrate fully these observations.
In India, we speak of castes. One is necessarily born into one or the other
caste and enters into a life full of natural movements in which all kinds of
influences (saṃskāras) are in play. This development is entirely automatic
and would remain so were it not for the shocks blindly distributed by the
cosmic energy of śakti. This energy knocks over anyone who happens to be
in its way or who stands up to it. Its whim is our luck! The shocks that
come from it create rebellion. These are brief moments of awakening.
Without such rebellion, man would not be conscious of his reactions; he
would not begin to struggle against the unknown force that defies him.
Only he who responds to the attack will, when the time comes, meet a
Guru, that is, a guide, a protector; but this protector, while ensuring the
desired protection, may become later on the one who will consciously
direct the shocks of śakti within his disciple.
The Tantras say, on this subject, that spiritual discipline must be
followed with regularity, even if it involves necessary breaks. In any case,
sudden deviations are inevitable in order to create the elements of new life.
Shocks coming from one‘s surroundings are always a stimulant, the more
so if they are provoked by the Guru himself.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 65

It is not always possible to recognize from where shocks come, for they
often have the same appearance and bring the same suffering. And it is
only suffering that helps us discover a deeply embedded root that resists
the shocks.
By being born into this or that caste, a man is a slave to men stronger
than himself, just as every beast has to submit to stronger beasts. Through
successive shocks from śakti, man will pass through successive inner births
and each time all that he knows will have to be re-learned and re-evaluated
on another plane. Impressions (saṃskāras) will appear always in the same
succession and according to the same recurrence, but the densities will be
different. Heavy as lead at the start, they will little by little become as light
as the fleecy substance of the clouds.
A living spirituality is in itself too primordial to be grasped by the
intellect. Philosophers try in vain to explain in words what we feel. Two
important points of this extreme positivism must be detected: the heart, as
the seat of the emotions; and sex, with its repercussions, which are still
deeper and more overwhelming than those of the heart. We could ―be‖ and
―do‖ if we were capable of uniting the pure feelings of the heart and the
pure desires of sex; in this way, we would discover the very essence of
man. The ordinary Christian has the idea of paradise and of hell to help
him in his evolution and, between the two, morality and the precepts of
charity. But in this morality no one is able to give a place to the atomic
bomb and the extermination camps, which, in prakriti, have their place.
The result is a strong rejection of responsibility which does not diminish in
any way the two natural and automatic movements of prakriti.
The ordinary Hindu has, for himself, a system of evaluation comparable
to a stairway, making it possible at each step to recognize new values,
which include light and shade. Good and evil are two aspects of the same
thing. Certain steps are hard to climb because of the demands inherent in
them; and they arise from cosmic Laws. Fortunately, the time factor is there
to soften any too violent movement.
It would be unfortunate to remain a long time on any one step of the
stairway, enjoying or tepidly satisfied with a state attained or rediscovered,
for then there would follow a sluggishness which is like a slow death, a
true sleep in complete unconsciousness.
The steps of the stairway represent man‘s possible evolution. If man is
free from his movements, has he the possibility of choosing their direction?
His power of choice depends on his level of consciousness, and he has to
 ■ Observation of Oneself ■ 66

learn how to discover, at his ―point of departure,‖ what are his particular
conditions and possibilities. All the rest belongs to the play (līlā) of prakriti.
If nothing resists her, if nothing stands in her way, prakriti will thoroughly
enjoy herself, her role being to create and to eat her own creation, if it does
not rise in self-defence.
To work in order to know one‘s point of departure means to enter into a
detailed observation of oneself. If this work is attempted by a mind that
does not analyze all that it perceives, the armature of logic is broken down
as well as the ability of the intelligence to create compromises. The Hindu
―swallows‖ things more easily; he digests them without thinking. He puts
his trust in the Lord Shiva, who is continually swallowing the poison of the
world so that his throat is blue from it, yet without letting this disturb his
divine play.1
It is important that he who works toward his own evolution should
discover what kind of link exists between his belief and his life as it is lived
day by day. Something links the two, if it be no more than a mechanical
continuity. It may be that some form of meditation will become established
one day, making use at first of only ordinary coarse habits; but this
meditation will finally become purer. Later on, of its own accord, it will
take a different form.

A lived experience is always sustained by a living paradox:

―If you search for God, you will surely not find Him.‖
―If you search for power, you will never have it.‖

God prefers one who struggles against Him2 to one who is lukewarm.
We can develop in ourselves only what is already in our essence. ―If you
have a power in yourself, you can make it grow—absolutely nothing else.‖
According to a popular saying, ―If you worship God, He will ruin you,
but if after that you still love Him, He will become the slave of your slave.‖
An illustration of this saying is given in the caṇdi,3 as follows: ― The demon

1 The gods and the demons met together to churn the ocean and extract its nectar
(amṛta). It appeared; but hoping for something still more precious, the gods and the
devils continued to churn. Then poison appeared.
2 In India, one who struggles against God.
3 One of the oldest Purānic texts forming part of the Mārkaṇḍeyapurāṇaṃ.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 67

Shumba felt the desire to possess śakti, appearing as a goddess who had
come down from heaven. He said to his messenger: ‗I want this woman. If
she does not come to me, I shall drag her to me by the hair. Go tell her so!‘
The messenger left and transmitted the demon‘s order. The goddess smiled
and said to the messenger; ‗I made a vow a very long time ago, before I
heard of a master like yours. It was this: My husband will be none other
than he who insults my pride! Tell your master to come to me and ask to
marry me! I am awaiting him!‘‖
In every spiritual discipline the great obstacle is fear. Another obstacle,
still more dangerous, is meek and passive obedience. A famous Guru said:
―I am surrounded by people who do everything I wish, who obey all my
requests. They are merely real sheep! I would rather see people work from
love, a love, that starts a fire generating life. Unruly children are the ones
who have in them the most possibilities.‖
If we obey our passions—greed, anger, envy, laziness, it is because we
worship them as idols well hidden in us. If we throw light on them, we
cannot avoid seeing their true forms and finding them horrible. We detest
them and at the same time do not wish to be separated from them.

There is an exact science for cultivating memory; conversely, there is an

exact science for the cultivation of forgetting. The one is as important as the
other. Every day I eat with pleasure, but do I save the skin of an orange
from which I have extracted the juice? In the same way, the past has its
importance, but one has to remember events as they come to mind without
allowing feeling to enter in. Each day a child plays with the toys that
amused him the day before, but without remembering the sensations he
experienced, for he does not connect one thing with another. We must
consciously return to this possibility.
You must learn to welcome consciously the most unexpected events of
life, to be entirely transparent in front of them, without any motivation as
to right or wrong. At that moment avoid all judgement, for you do not
know what Law is in operation.
Hold back your prakriti in all the spontaneous movements that may
arise in you, so that it does not flow out or become diverted toward the
prakriti of others. This calls for no withdrawal on your part; but it allows
you to prevent heavy matters from becoming agglutinated with other
disordered heavy matters. Then you will be able to observe the movements
 ■ Observation of Oneself ■ 68

and erratic nature of others and this will help you to catch sight of your
own movements. At that point, some control can be exercised, but only of
yourself. This state of transparency has a relation to what one can also call
―self-remembering,‖ if one clearly understands that prakriti includes the
entire being in the multitude of its conscious and unconscious
manifestations.

Only little by little does one become acquainted with the idea of the
Void.
The best way to approach it is to watch how things take place. What we
call our will is not really ours. It is simply a stirring of prakriti in us—an
automatic movement.
It must not be forgotten that if the flower bud has been formed, the full
bloom will follow quite naturally. Then why be impatient? All true creation
occurs in silence. Open yourself more and more, or rather let Great Nature
unfold herself in you. A blossoming will follow as a logical development.
Our only duty is to be contained within ourselves and to be fully vigilant.
The following paradox is revealing: One must keep a firm hold on the
rudder of the boat that symbolizes our life, become one with it, risk
everything without ever letting go of the helm. At the same time, one must
know that everything is impermanent—the boat, the sea and ourselves.
Although holding fast, I give up everything in advance. I hold fast, while
measuring the impermanence of everything. At that moment the play of
thought ceases, there is only the ―I‖ that knows, in the pulsation of my
blood.
Do not hurry in any of your actions; be aware of exactly what dictates
them. Control your thoughts rigorously before acting; this will make you
slower in starting an action and will help you to maintain carefully your
integrity. You will feel an inner satisfaction if you try to have this attitude.
Never make a sudden decision. As women say, ―Haste makes a bad curry!‖
Pay attention to everything you do, for the smallest things are the most
important. Pay attention to everything you think. This control will be
established once and for all as soon as you know how to record a fact in
itself. Speak to the heart but without using words. Learn to live in this
discipline so as to manifest the life within you.
Those who transmit a teaching do so because they have decided to
return towards the masses and to help others approach the threshold of
knowledge. But one must realize that no particle of truth can be given, for
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 69

we never know anything of another‘s thought. To believe it would be to

create for oneself an illusion as dangerously false as that of human love.
Truth can be lived only after a very long purification.
There are several disciplines of voluntary detachment.
A traditional one is that of the adepts of Vedanta, who put an end to the
relation of cause and effect (karma) by plunging into detachment through
the solemn vows of sannyāsa. From that time on, their discipline is
constantly to discriminate between the real and the unreal. That is why,
under the ochre robe, there are so many monks who, at the beginning of
their asceticism, are wicked, miserly, greedy and liars. They are cleansing
the inner being. This work is slow and painstaking. Throughout this
asceticism and because of their robe, they are sustained by those around
them, helped by the whole of a society that trusts them, by the people who
ask their blessing and fear their anger.
Another traditional discipline is that in which, in everyday life, I
consciously die to myself each evening, to be reborn each morning,
infinitely relaxed and supple. It is life in its fullness in the immediate
present. ―I am the thread of the necklace, the thread of continuity, holding
the beads together.‖ Each bead is an experience. Each bead is perfect in
itself in relation to its transmuted raw material. Who am I, if not the whole
of these transmutations? To pass beyond them, I must first bring them back
to a central point.
The process of externalization of any spiritual experience must be
observed with care and precision. Our attention must be directed for a very
long time to this, for it will reveal how the opposite process of
interiorization occurs, provided the observer knows how to see what takes
place in himself.
The mystery will always be that ―the All‖ is discovered by withdrawing
into oneself, and not through the process of exteriorization. Within oneself,
there is no longer any submission to an outer will, but an immersion in the
principle of a higher will. The Bāul and the Sufi know this very well. One
returns from this a different being, even if one cannot make the experience
last. It is illuminating. That is all. Intellectually, one invents means to reach
it, whereas it is rather a question of chemistry or of mutation. If you could
understand that, the mutation of one element into another would
passionately interest you, earth into water, water into fire, fire into air, and
so forth. These words are the keys to studying what takes place in us at
different densities of being.
 ■ Observation of Oneself ■ 70

One of the means used is voluntary detachment. The only true

detachment is a spontaneous result and not an effort. It can be compared to
the scales that fall by themselves from the skin of a snake; the snake does
nothing. Likewise the bark of certain trees cracks and falls off when the
trunk grows thicker. The same phenomenon takes place in the inner-being
after the digestion of an integrated experience. The experience itself
disappears like a good meal. The nourishment is distributed throughout
the body according to a known process, which we shall not speak of here.
What applies to food applies also to a lived experience; if it is perfectly
integrated, there is no more to be said about it. It is quickly forgotten, but
the inner being has grown.
If I speak of God, it is because I do not know who God is, what God is.
He who speaks about something is outside of that thing. The only truth is
the radiation of the being in living silence. But it is easy to be mistaken, for
in the ―return‖ to life, he who knows is as mute as a stone. The Great Manu
advises us to be silent. He who questions is not conscious of his heaviness;
he who is silent is conscious of the transmuting ferment that dwells within
him.
He who, without wishing it, without even thinking about it, brings
about a transmutation in the being of people around him, has a power
attributed in the old days to the philosopher‘s stone. He is the ferment of
an integrated experience. In the course of this process, the disciple must be
patient and calm like a fisherman on the water‘s edge. The fisherman has
cast his line; the disciple has opened his heart. What will appear comes
from the depths of the water or from the depths of the heart. Neither one
nor the other knows what it will be. To be ready is the only thing that
counts. This waiting causes the disciple to die to those who are around
him.
It is not a question of an experience which can be repeated. To try to
repeat it would be committing a great mistake which could be fatal, for it
would mean wilfully engaging the ego in the play of powers and cosmic
forces without being prepared to control them.
The traditional Schools speak of yogic experiences: meetings and
contacts (darśan) with a saint, revelation, discipline for the mind, the heart,
the body, life in an ashram, and so forth. All these experiences are at our
disposal. They give us our chance. They have been tried by others before
us, and we can rely on them according to our individual type.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 71

These experiences can fill a life. Nevertheless, they are only the careful
tilling of naturally fertile ground, which must take place before a single
true sensation is felt within and can be incarnated. This sensation is the
seed of life because it is entirely pure. It creates and then disappears. Its
role is ended. The child to be born is potentially the embryo in the matrix of
the inner being, which will one day be ―the Man whose seat is in the cavern
of the heart.‖ There is no mystery in this. One faces reality here.
If the spirit can become malleable matter and matter made malleable can
become spirit, spiritual experiences will demonstrate that it can transform
the behaviour of the individual. This transformation—spirit-matter and
matter-spirit—is, in fact, true spiritual existentialism, the consciousness of
sat. But in times of danger and depression, when the passions reign that
characterize the present vital plane, the human hunger represented in the
West by existentialism has degraded the perspective of pure Existence (sat).

In every spiritual discipline one progresses first with thought, then with
speech. The body follows only very slowly. Then only can one speak of
total surrender. To establish a discipline that engages all the functions of
the body is long and difficult because the body is heavy and asleep. In the
life of the world, the body is made use of first. It is educated and given all
kinds of habits until its behaviour is considered satisfactory.
Most people know nothing about the internal sense organs (indriyas).
The internal organ of thought has nothing in common with habitual
thoughts turned toward the outside. It is used very rarely. The internal
organ of speech is still more rarely used. Interiorized life uses only the
internal sense organs, which have a double function, that of relating us to
outer life and of bringing to us impressions to be stored. To recognize the
functioning of these inner organs involves very careful work on oneself.

Certain Laws must not be revealed before a long preparation has given
them weight. It is solely direct experience that will bring their substance to
life and demonstrate their existence. These Laws are part of the interiorized
experience, of the substance of life that has been ―sucked‖ from the Void; it
can be neither eaten nor drunk, it can only be absorbed into oneself.
Here are some fragments about it. There is a saying, ―Take a broom and
sweep in front of you.‖ On the philosophical plane, this means: ―Separate
 ■ Observation of Oneself ■ 72

yourself from prakriti.‖ Part of yourself is passive and remains calm and
unmoved; the other part is active, in movement, constantly acting and
reacting.
We see a dog chained to his kennel and barking, but the dog itself does
not know that it barks. It is only fulfilling the function for which it is there.
Animals have consciousness, but not self-consciousness. The heart of the
problem that interests us is the following: ―Have an eye open on yourself,
observe yourself!‖ In life you, in fact, like the barking watchdog; you are
always watching others, but you never look at yourself with the same
keenness.
Another way to formulate this idea is the following: One man smokes
opium, absorbed in his experience; another smokes without being
intoxicated because he measures what he does. Still another remains
indifferent while he smokes. He feels nothing because he functions like an
automaton. He is the image of sleep in a waking state where there are even
no reactions.
In your efforts of self-observation you are often stopped at a point where
you are unable to formulate concretely what appears to you as objective. If
you knew how to do it, you would experience bliss and pure joy (ānanda).
But as yet you have only a few rare memories of such moments which,
although vivid, quickly disappear. To taste this bliss in the essence of the
being would make you independent. At that point one is virtually
separated from prakriti. That is why intoxication is the oldest form of
worship, which is a bliss of remembrance no longer bound by time.
One must know how to pass consciously to the plane of pure sensation.
To achieve this, one must learn to orient oneself between two kinds of
memory (smṛtis): memory of an event and memory of the essence that has
been recognized. One of these memories is changeable, the other
permanent. Memories of the event exist only in time. As long as they
remain, one is either happy or distressed, according to their nature. As
soon as a sensation is associated with them, they become a limitation, that
is to say, ―what is finished‖ or ―what is lost.‖
A pure memory is never a sensation, but the delight of having touched a
―point.‖ Hence the importance of pure things: what lies around us, what
we hear and see, what we eat and breathe. Only pure memories lead to
eternal memory, in which the impressions of life (saṃskārās) are effaced.
One touches here a state of deep spiritual existentialism which is the
eternal present. But every time one speaks about it, one destroys something
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 73

of the power that is in action, for instead of interiorizing it, one exteriorizes
it. That is why a Master who has accepted the task of teaching is sacrificing
himself. He acts according to a descending Law. The substance of the
experience that he enables others to approach is like the foetus in a
pregnant woman. The Master watches over the experience without
imagining the form that it will take.
The greatest mistake we can make is to believe that we can direct our
actions, whereas all we can do is to feel the repercussions and reactions to
which they give rise. One attitude, however, is possible, namely, that of
forgetting the action as and when it is in progress. The result will be like a
blank page in which memories will no longer leave an imprint.
A Buddhist discipline suggests, ―Do not attach the passing moment to
another moment;‖ that is to say, disconnect the moments from each other.
Of what use is it to connect them? Live like the child holding a toy in his
hand. He gives it with a smile to one person and refuses it to another.
If one studies the life of Shankaracharya in his mystical period, one sees
that a great saint never acts according to his own will, but according to the
will of others who sometimes are fools. This means to act without creating
inner reaction. In this state of freedom, the true creative urge arises. You
will serve better, you will participate in the life of others, and you can
heartily laugh at yourself!
There exists a philosophy of forgetting; practice it! The Nyaya School
teaches, ―From a lower prakriti, aspire to reach a higher Prakriti. To attain
this, free yourself from past relationships; throw away your memories,
which weigh so heavily. When fed by prakriti, your memories are stale
food. Throw them into the Ganges, which has a strong current, but not into
a pond, where they would decay without being destroyed.‖
In the way of love (bhakti), observation of oneself remains fully
conscious of the movements of human nature even when they are violent;
but in the way of knowledge the observation of oneself is freed in the stage
of interiorization where the essence of being is nourished only by very
subtle foods (prāṇa). In this new state of consciousness, there is no longer
any suffering arising from prakriti because the clear consciousness is now
inhabited only by the spirit of Purusha.
Observation of oneself can only be directed by a Master who knows his
disciple well and will help him to see his problems. The work of
interiorization is perfectly codified by Patanjali, who in his aphorisms gives
 ■ Observation of Oneself ■ 74

a detailed plan of work. But it remains up to the Master, who knows his
student‘s type and sees his possibilities, to apply this discipline.
Patanjali specifies the following states:
1. A personal discipline that leads to quietening the body.
2. A state of consciousness in which calm has been established but the
subconscious continues to work.
3. The mastery of tendencies and habits that reappear one after the
other at long intervals.
4. A victory over any tendency or habit, giving a taste of freedom that
can be called illumination, even if it is partial and ephemeral.
Follow these simple and sure rules of conduct. Be silent as to the results
and pass on crumbs of knowledge only to those nourished by the same
blood as yourself, who are not prone to bitter criticisms and fault finding.
Avoid those who pride themselves on their strength, for it serves only the
lower prakriti. You are never obliged to participate in the life of someone
who is not one of your co-disciples or a spiritual son of your Guru.
With the Master, be simple. Learn to have integrity. Serve him without
asking questions, in complete surrender, but without any emotion.
Patanjali gives the psychological foundations1 resulting from the
experience of centuries and suggests two formulas:
1. Relax all the joints, which activates inner relaxation. At that moment
there is a feeling of being wholly at one with the earth. From this
comes the deep physical joy of having a harmonious body.
2. Only with a global sensation of the whole body can one begin to
observe the breath, which goes outwards, whereas it is in fact the
force of inner life.
If we try to observe in this way, without giving rise to the least tension
or alteration, whether in thought, or in feeling, or in the body, it is possible
to follow the movement of the breath and to isolate oneself in the body as
in an impregnable citadel. Seat yourself in a natural way. This will be your
ideal posture (āsana). Observe your breathing while allowing it to establish
its own rhythm. Discover calmly whether this rhythm is introverted or
extroverted, that is, whether you naturally keep your breath inside or
whether the breath stops for a moment after breathing out. Then breathe
normally through nostrils. To begin with, the breathing has no rhythm.
Later a rhythm becomes established provided one does not interfere.

1 See Commentaries on the Aphorisms of Patanjali (Raja-Yoga).

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 75

In the beginning, the breathing is only physical, but little by little the
rhythm deepens and will go down to the body‘s centre of gravity, making
it vibrate internally. There is a rule that says, ―The mind is the master of the
activities of the senses, but the breathing governs the mind.‖
 ■ Automatism ■ 76

AUTOMATISM

The Law of automatism is absolute. Even if the role of this Law is to keep
the masses bound to the will of prakriti, it forces the man who is a seeker
by nature to find a way out and awaken to his own being.
To achieve this several things are required:
1. An active meditative state in all the circumstances of life, that is, to
become the witness of oneself in the midst of life.
2. A voluntary withdrawal from the mental functions, in which, by
association of ideas, most reactions arise.
3. A conscious self-control to curb all greed.
4. A woman can reach this awakening state through ―natural
intelligence,‖ that is, through her essence, whereas a man can reach it
only through voluntary sacrifice and personal discipline. There is no
other way for him.
It is said that a hundred thousand seekers will come to nothing for each
one who will reach the goal, just as in Great Nature an immense surplus of
seeds is required for one to bear fruit. All the wasted seeds go to make
good humus for the earth. All the disciples who come to nothing make up
the spiritual atmosphere of India. Hindus do not discuss either their
attempts or their failures in this domain. For them all movements coming
from the ego have the same value; all of them spring from distorted
impulses. Hence every good action performed by one‘s own will still
belongs to the realm of personality.
Ideas and sensations are as automatic as everything else. They can be
counted and classified; their frequency can be known. They are only
figures and lines forming triangles with unequal sides. One has to know
about that rhythm of life.
Life rolls on like a stream carrying along much refuse in its swift current.
We need not haul it ashore, but rather to let it float along and disappear.
To appreciate rightly Shri Ramakrishna‘s childhood vision of infinity on
seeing white cranes flying across the sky, or the force of ecstasy that led
Shri Ramana Maharshi to the Void, one must have felt deeply in oneself the
continuous pressure that Hindu society can exert on a sensitive being,
imposed upon him by the rules dictated by the caste, the family and the
village, from which there is no way out.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 77

These extremely rigid conditions cause beings ready to throw off the
yoke to ―explode,‖ just as the pressure of the earth causes one seed in a
thousand to burst open within it. Each tree, indeed, is a miracle of
persistent effort to survive in the midst of multiple dangers. This effort is a
movement of the essence, still incoherent but already prepared to pay the
price of independence.
Do not leave your souls in the hands of the temple priests, but become
your own architects and lay the foundations of a solid structure in which
everything will be in its place. It is by progressively studying our reactions
to shocks from outside that we can measure our progress and see what
remains shaky in ourselves.
The only way to recognize your real ―I‖ is to see your reactions in detail,
one after the other. That is the surest guide for penetrating toward the
inner being. The duration of a reaction clearly seen is the only moment
when mind and matter, soul and body are not cut off from each other. It is
a moment of your own reality.
If we knew how to expand ourselves to the utmost in time and space,
nothing would be difficult and the complexities of life would disappear.
Life itself would carry them, in other words the Divine Mother, or the
Void, which is the first cause of prakriti. Each one individually does what
he can on his own level of understanding. This idea is the generator of all
upward flight as well as of all degradation.
We can ask the question, ―Why do I exist?‖ One of the customary
answers is that we exist because of the Law of cause and effect (karma).
India believes in successive births. This belief is acknowledged and
repeated to the point where it is devoid of thought and meaning. He who
lives with no trace of awakened consciousness will be reborn on the same
plane of evolution, even as the tree, on its plane, is reborn as a tree. It is
matter and will remain matter in the admirably organized recurrence of
prakriti. Well, one can voluntarily ignore the idea of karma, in spite of all
the philosophical explanations given about the relation of cause to effect,
coming from former lives and influencing future lives; but what cannot be
ignored are the different categories of impressions (saṃskārās) and the
shocks coming from outside which are constantly reaching us. We live on
these impressions as on the air we breathe and the food we absorb. We
must learn to recognize these impressions, to welcome them or to reject
them. An exact science is involved here, in which the influence of the
mother, of the father, and then of the Guru is of the highest importance.
 ■ Automatism ■ 78

The man who penetrates willingly into the plane of evolution thus
creates impressions related to it, which then accumulate. Because of this he
enters within the evolutionary will. Then ensues a definite rhythm of births
and deaths (saṃsāras) until the substances utilized are refined and purified.
The level of consciousness changes at each stage, for many degrees of
perception mark out the path of evolution. New words come to be used
related to alchemy and physics, for it is easier to speak of a scientific event
than of an inner attitude in which the subjectivity is involved and therefore
alters every objective observation.
The Upanishads affirm that every soul is not reincarnated since
reincarnation presupposes a conscious maturity.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 79

CONSCIOUSNESS

Even the adepts of Sāmkhya discuss the origin of consciousness, just as

much as the philosophers do: Buddhist, Vedantist, and all others.
Truth, like life itself, is a mystery. It can be recognized, but it cannot be
analysed nor imprisoned in words. In this realm, all experiences lived must
move imperceptibly from the plane of outer life to the plane of inner life to
nourish that which is our essence. Then some day these experiences will
find expression in their own way by a particular radiation. This radiation is
also automatic; it moves from the plane of inner life to that of outer life.
To be oneself, that is to say, to live in the consciousness of one‘s own
essence, promotes the growth of a new understanding. It is just as if
delicate fingers were unfolding, one by one, the petals of a lotus.

Between the spasmodic movements of the finite and the immobility of

the infinite flows a continuous stream of the force of śakti. This is the
process of becoming. It can be said that the force of śakti is continuous,
since it can be perceived as such by consciousness. But if you believe that it
is unconscious, its movement will be for you only a succession of jerking
dots and all things will then have a beginning and an end.
But consciousness, even at the mental level, demands continuity. It lives
by duration. And duration is not a blank word. This idea is at the root of
the Vedic conception of reality as pure Existence (satyam), the rhythm of
time (ṛtam), and constant growth (bṛhat). What is most important is the link
between satyam and ṛtam. This is the fundamental Law of spiritual
evolution.
By being conscious of oneself it is possible to pass from the plane of
personality to the plane of essence, for an observer is then present. The
Upanishads and the Bhagavad Gita indicate different means, each one
representing fragments of discipline:
1. To observe oneself with a sustained look.
2. To stand aside, without any kind of judgment whatsoever, thus
allowing the essence to grow.
3. A neutral look will automatically see the disorder that reigns in the
inner house; then a desire for order will arise of itself.
 ■ Consciousness ■ 80

4. A growing essence always gives its assent.

5. The essence will become ‗the one that carries everything in its arms,‘
and prakriti will follow obediently, and finally find its own place in
all functions.
6. The Lord in the heart will always in the end conquer prakriti.
Between the two different levels in a being in search of himself there is
always an empty space to be crossed, which provokes a chaotic movement;
the more protracted the effort to cross the gap, the more violent the
movement becomes.
The intermediate consciousness which opens up the way to pass from
one centre to another is made of very fluid matter. It is in the heart of this
matter that the Guru works deeply with his ploughshare. This fluid matter
has no connection either with the subject or with the object, it will find its
own form in the Void. It can be activated only by the Master. For a long
time, the seeker himself knows nothing about it. He has no organ with
which to discover it or make use of it.
In this position, the disciple‘s attitude is to do nothing of his own free
will, for then everything would be distorted. But he must observe with
lucidity, of his level of understanding, all that takes place, and learn to
recognize that ‗active passivity‘ which will become a right movement at the
appropriate time. This is all that concerns him.
As regards the states through which Shri Ramakrishna passed in order
to come back to a normal state of consciousness after a long period of
samādhi, he said of himself, ―Since the ego never dies, let it at least become a
good servant of the Divine Mother!‖ To come out of ecstasy, when he still
felt impelled to go further into his experience, he used to strike himself
violently on the head. He said, ―One can sing an ascending scale: sā, ri, gā,
mā, pā, dhā, ni… but one cannot hold the last note for long. One has to come
down again!‖ He had an immense wish to live, to have the whole universe
enter the field of his experience. He saw life in its aspect of completeness in
śakti, the life of the cosmic Laws, and he absorbed it to the very limit.
Every disciple in his quest is fully aware that the personal discipline he
has accepted has a practical aim, which is the complete union of human
consciousness with the highest reality. The goal is to transform the mental,
vital and even the physical nature of the being, down to the smallest cells
in the body, in order to attain to the understanding of the ultimate reality
(Shiva-śakti).
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 81

The extreme relativity of consciousness must never be forgotten. Those

who have a highly developed personality are less easily penetrated by a
new form of consciousness.

Every morning wake up, each one of you, like a young child. At noon,
stand majestically as men and women in full development. In the evening,
be conscious beings ripened in strength and serenity, who having drunk
deep at the fountain of life, watch the approach of death. In the middle of
the night, be the Void itself, the darkness of the sky in which a moon ray
still shines. In this picture, I am revealing to you the secret of the Gāyatrī1
of the Vedas, the essence of the Sun and the Law of life.

1 The invocation which is pronounced every morning.

 ■ Sensations ■ 82

SENSATIONS

All spiritual experiences correspond to sensations in the body. They are

simply a closely graded series of different sensations, beginning with that
of feeling oneself as heavy as a clod of earth and passing gradually, in full
consciousness, to the sensation of liquidity and then to that of the
emanation of heat. The last sensation is that of a global vibration before
reaching the Void. The road to be travelled is indeed very long.
Each time a step is made on the ascending ladder, a sensation of
expansion in space and of complete relaxation is experienced. This
sensation offers a foretaste of what the experience of pure spirit (chit) might
be, in which all things are transcended. At that moment spirit and matter
appear to be one. But how far one is from that! This conception comes from
an ancient theory of the purification of the elements, which in the Tantras is
called bhūta-śuddhi and which has been spoken of in the Upanishads.
May your present discipline become for you, in this subtle graduation of
sensations, a means for expansion and later for infiltration into everything
around you, both fellow beings and things. Become aware of the deep and
strong sensation of passing from one element to another. There is no other
means. Use for this purpose the solitude that makes it possible to
interiorize many forces. Every contraction produces heat and it is this heat
that will spread. A true personal discipline (tapasyā) is nothing other than
this expansion of one‘s self-radiating warmth produced by inner
concentration.
Always remember that any sensation of expansion you may experience
is a radiation. Remain calm and radiate this warmth. Do not question. Ask
for nothing more. Live these moments to the full. This radiation is in itself
śakti, an instant of living consciousness, that is, a direct experience that
becomes established in you. Your sensation is the proof of it, a certainty
you can no longer efface from your memory.
In meditation, the whole body is utilized to discover a sensation of
expansion which, for a long time, represents the final aim. Work on the
body is a delicate matter and has to be done according to very precise rules
whereby each movement, voluntary or involuntary, is a search for calm,
that is to say, for a sensation of physical consciousness.
The first objective to reach is perfect solidity of the motionless body. To
arrive at that, all thoughts have to be brought back one after another to the
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 83

body—to its form, its weight, its balance, etc. There must be no other
thought. This state is symbolized by the matter ―earth,‖ in the heart of
which, notwithstanding its heaviness and opacity, a vibration already
exists.
The directed attention will gradually be fixed upon the image of a bowl.
The body is really a vessel made of heavy matter which contains an
effervescent wine. Concentrated in itself, attention will penetrate the body,
go down the length of the spinal column until an impression of great
heaviness is felt in the centre of gravity. The whole body has then become
as hard as a statue with a pure form.1
At this point, one discovers that all the inner movements: effervescence,
agitation, ideas, images—all are produced by the body. The stability of the
body is a state in itself. This is why, to attain it more easily, so much
importance is attached to food and hygiene.
The second stage begins when the body, in its well-established solidity,
can become the matrix of energy in movement. Externally hard, the body
becomes internally the very pulsation of the life that fills it. An intense
vibration of energy throbs in it. This state is symbolized by purification of
the element water, that is to say, by the passage from a heavier to a lighter
density.
Then comes the discovery that an irradiant body of extremely fine
nervous sensations is contained within the body of flesh. It is only when
the body of flesh has acquired a solid form that the nerve channels (nāḍis)
can be revealed with all the sensations of the currents of life running
through them. As it is pictured in the Vedas: ―… the waters of a stream can
pass through a rock.‖
The third stage occurs when all the currents of nervous energy flowing
through the inner body become currents of light, from which little by little
a sensation of fire emanates. This state is symbolized by the purification of
the element fire, so much so that the temperature of the body rises as in an
attack of fever.
These three stages; the state of solidity of the body, the state of the
sensation of the nervous currents, the state of the sensation of currents of
light, are characteristic of meditation in depth. Up to this point, the
individuality remains intact, described by the words: ―one of the many.‖

1
Vālmīki, who in this state of solidity of the body is said to have been covered with
white ants.
 ■ Sensations ■ 84

The fourth stage is that in which individuality is lost. This state of

sensation of fire which consumes the body is a further passage from a
heavier to a more subtle density. This fire that consumes the inner body
consumes at the same time all sense of form, to the degree that the
sensation of non-form becomes irradiant. This state is symbolized by the
purification of the element air. The habitual impulse to resort to forms
disappears. There remains only the state of the Void, which is at the same
time a precise and global sensation of multiformity. All is clarity and calm.
Meditation is in fact laboratory work and an attack directed against
prakriti in order to escape from her slavery.

There are different spiritual densities owing to which the inner being
can become fluid and discover what is beyond the form of his habitual
being. He can thus come in contact with beings belonging to the densities
he has discovered. But any kind of emotion interrupts this process.
Emotion is always an identification that prevents any movement of surface
expansion and any movement of interiorization in depth, whereas one of
the most subtle aspects of knowledge is the passage from one density to
another.
It is true that the yogis of certain disciplines are able to feed themselves
at a distance with fluid elements and with the vital elements of the air. This
is no miracle; it is simply a question of expansion and of the capacity to
assimilate one or another kind of food.
In prakriti there are many degrees and levels of expansion. God, the
Creator, and the soul, while being the very finest parts of prakriti, are
nevertheless materialities, even if they are fluid. A human being has
infinite possibilities of expansion; he can even approach the objective Will,
which is of an entirely different order from that of the habitual will. The
objective Will can be ascertained and felt as though a hand is striking you
in the face.
Those who work on themselves generally proceed by intermittent leaps
after having received one or more shocks from life that have awakened
them or after having been in fearful danger.
In a moment of inner calmness, one can gradually, as if coming out of a
dream, learn to catch the last impression received and observe it without
losing it. The effort to try is to isolate the sensation provoked by the
impression received and trace that sensation back to the centre where it
arose. One sees what provoked it. In this attempt, the slightest discussion
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 85

with oneself, or the slightest fear, curiosity, or judgment, will instantly blot
out the given contents of the problem.
This observation can be verified in the course of morning dreams. A
useful attempt is to wake up gently and to follow the indications just given,
knowing that the whole being does not dream. One centre at a time is
exteriorized in dreaming; usually it is the emotional centre. Only those in
whom an active consciousness is already highly developed, dream with the
whole of their being, but such a dream is no longer a dream; it belongs to
another state of consciousness.
To penetrate into that realm of consciousness, sensation is the only
guide we have, a continuous sensation which, whether it almost disappears
or stays with us in a subtle way, can no longer be felt in our body. This
sensation is nevertheless connected with the inner organs of perception,
whose role and use are not yet known to us.
How to keep this sensation of oneself alive during sleep? The first effort
to try is to go to sleep consciously, remaining aware of a very subtle
sensation of the self. This sensation will persist far beyond the ordinary
stage of consciousness which falls into the heaviness of sleep. This
sensation is really a vibration of life of which the process is precisely
known. On waking, the reverse process takes place. To animate the
sensation of the Self the vibration of life will unfold itself long before the
body awakens.
How to connect these two moments of sensation of the self, separated by
the sleep of the body? In this realm nothing can be willed. The progressive
refining of the heavy matters in us will allow us to discover, one after
another, the inner organs (indriyas) of perception whose functioning is
indicated here.
When we try to control to some extent the impressions coming to us
from outside and the sensations they create in us, it is important not to
allow more than one sensation at a time to pervade us, one that is
identifiable. We may then be able to detect its colour, a taste, a smell and
sound, and finally a certain tangibility in it. At that moment, we shall know
exactly where it comes from and how to evaluate it.
The co-existence of several sensations creates, through comparisons and
judgements, an interest and an attachment and a certain confusion, which
are inevitable.
 ■ Sensations ■ 86

To learn to discriminate as objectively as possible entails an all-round

work on the whole being in which nothing is left in the dark. At that
moment one knows why one lives, one discovers the meaning of Life
within life and one‘s own place in the harmony of a great Law. Each
conquest means peace or enlightenment on one‘s own level of
consciousness until that level is surpassed. No haste. The conscientious
seeker goes from deep obscurity to a lesser obscurity. He speaks by
negations, but these negations are positive. If the road is long, great
patience is required.
What is a true spiritual discipline? It is a recognized rhythm of the
harmonized body. All is there. Nothing could be more material than to use
the body for acquiring a right sensation of God. Hence the many customs
and the caste taboos regulating relationships between people, in order to
prepare for the harmonious union of an awakened body with
consciousness and with the eternal Prakriti. Through spiritual discipline
the entire body becomes the receptacle of divine sensations. A well-
conducted discipline makes it possible to identify and recognize at his base
a unique sensation which is a sensation of the universe. What is known as
meditation is the interiorization of this ―pure sensation‖ outside of time. It
is a taste of eternity.
Discipline, that is to say, voluntary sacrifice, is the unique means to
reverse the vital current which is habitually directed outward by the mind.
From this come all the images which picture the disciple going against the
current of vital fluid to go back up to the source, just as, on the concrete
plane, thousands of pilgrims go upstream against the current of the Ganges
to its source.
As a matter of fact a Master said: I am contradicting myself when I
speak to you of discipline, for I always insist that every one of you should
emphasize and thus intensify his own motive for searching. The whole
thing is to have a very definite motive of research as the pivot around
which your attempt will be organized. People often come to me and say, ―I
would like to meditate, for example, on a flame, a triangle, a luminous
spot. What do you advise?‖ In this case I answer, ―Well then, meditate on
your body. Try to find a right sensation of yourself!‖
A right sensation of oneself is in the very nature of incarnation, of
penetration. At that moment, the spirit becomes matter and takes on a
definite density in the body. Personal austerity (tapasyā) is the process by
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 87

which a sensation comes alive, so that the whole body glows. This is a true
sensation, that of the spirit becoming flesh.
This state in which no thought enters is experienced as an intense bodily
joy (ānanda), for in the state of awakened consciousness it is a matter of a
very precise global sensation, a wholeness. There we are touching the
hidden secret of Buddhism.

The experience of a pure sensation in the physical body is in the realm of

the nerve channels (nāḍis), which allow the vibrations perceived to
penetrate into the physical body. They are extremely fine substances.
This leads us to the realm of music, to the study of auditory sensation,
which is at the origin of the musical scale. The intervals with their
variations of vibrations determine the notes; it is not the notes that
determine the intervals. The same succession of irregular intervals occurs
in everything manifested. Brahma himself creates in accordance with a
rhythm that has its own vibration. An incalculable and chaotic movement
underlies all cosmic order.
Between notes there are intervals of varying lengths, the particularities
of which are known. Make the following experiment: concentrate on any
one musical note and feel in yourself the modulation of the note and the
length of its vibrations. The low notes resound at the base of the spinal
column, the middle ones in the region of the heart and the high notes in the
head.
Although the music and notation of the Sāmaveda have been lost, the
notion has survived that the human organism as a whole represents
different levels of consciousness obeying the same rules of modulation and
frequency of sound. Each note is in itself a pure Sound (nāda) and pure Joy
(ānanda) with different vibrations. Along the spinal column there are eight
circuits of nerve experiences. The vibrations vary according to the
movement of the sun. For that reason there are special songs for the short
moment immediately preceding the dawn (bhairava) and for the moment of
dawn itself (bhairavī). Chaitanya1 used to pass from one ecstasy to another
when he heard the name of God being sung. One of his companions who
was always with him composed some well-known melodies based on his
lamentations and pleadings with the Divine.

1A celebrated reformer and monk in Bengal (1485-1531 A.D.). He himself was neither a
poet nor a musician, but he inspired his disciples in such a way that over three centuries
thousands of devotional songs were composed in Bengal.
 ■ Sensations ■ 88

An orthodox swami, going through a village, paused in front of a poor

mud house. Somebody was laughing, somebody was singing. The swami,
being curious, went nearer and at the door held out his bowl. He saw a
woman feeding her children. There were five of them: four beautiful
children and a fifth. The fifth was the Child-Krishna, a statuette made of
wood and plaster such as are sold in the markets. The mother was making
little balls of rice and putting them into one mouth after another. The
Child-Krishna was receiving his share and this was why they were all
laughing.
―What are you doing?‖ cried the swami. ―How do you dare to play with
the Lord Krishna and give him that unclean food which goes from mouth
to mouth? What sacrilege!‖ Frightened, the woman prostrated herself at
the monk‘s feet. ―My lord swami,‖ she said, ―I did not mean to do wrong.
My children are so happy to play with Shrī Krishna. He is their companion.
If I have offended the Supreme, how can I be pardoned? Please help me!‖
―Give me that statuette,‖ said the monk severely, ―I will take it to the
village temple, where the Lord Krishna will be bathed and worshipped
rightly and treated with respect instead of being used as a plaything. You
will visit him when bringing your offerings to the priests!‖
The children were upset. They were losing their friend. The mother
wept for shame. She wrapped up the statuette and gave it to the swami. He
carried it to the temple and told the priests what he had seen. They were
outraged. But the same night the swami could not go to sleep. Suddenly
the Lord Krishna appeared to him in all his glory. ―What have you done?‖
he said to the monk. ―I was so happy at that woman‘s house! I loved the
devotion of her heart and her laughter, and now you have shut me up in a
dark temple. Listen, I will not eat anything more nor accept any offerings
whatever until you take me back to her. Her rice was cooked just right and
that is the rice I want, no other!‖

Sacred images (mūrti) of gods and goddesses have two aspects. The first
is the philosophical aspect of a principle, the projection of an idea (tattva-
mūrti). By his devotion, the devotee is supposed to go beyond the image
and the symbol it expresses. Then he discovers the second aspect, which is
the sensation arising from the principle that gives life to the image (bhāva-
mūrti). This sensation is the passage of the idea in becoming life.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 89

A Hindu will say, ―What does it mean to me, the idea of an Absolute, of
the inconceivable Brahman?1 I do not want to worship a reflection of light.
What I want is to contemplate the Divine and worship him in my own
way. It is not the impersonal Lord Krishna in his sublime glory who fills
my heart, but rather Krishna the Child, who steals butter, plays the flute
and plays all sorts of tricks.‖
In this way the majestic attributes of the tattva-mūrti are transformed
into naïve simplicity to feed a true sentiment of the heart. The culmination
of every spiritual discipline is this precise sensation in oneself of divine
love. One must know how to make use of the force and grandeur of
philosophy, but in the heart, know how to feed oneself on radiant beauty
alone.

1 The Absolute, the impersonal God.

 ■ Emotions ■ 90

EMOTIONS

An absolute rule in Sāmkhya is never to speak about one‘s emotions. To

display sorrow is only to provoke an inner movement of prakriti instead of
going voluntarily towards a possible transformation of the emotion.
Here are three practical rules which, when they work together, are the
basis of a state in which emotion loses its destructive power:
1. To utilize for oneself the fewest possible things, which creates a
freedom of space.
2. To have no hope in the future, which gives consistency to the present
and creates a freedom in time.
3. To die consciously every evening, which means a new birth each
morning on awakening and an inner freedom.
To render life objective, two fundamental attitudes are needed, namely:
1. A centering of consciousness around the axis of the higher Will—
which involves an attentive vigilance of the whole being, in its
movements and functions.
2. In the face of prakriti, adopting consciously the attitude of a child.
This attitude dissolves obstacles. The child is renewed by himself
through elemental impressions, earth, water, fire, air, ether, the
beauty of a face, the intonation of a voice, a profound look, etc.
Each one of us should say to himself:
―As long as ‗my‘ prakriti does not grasp these two ways of becoming
alert in the midst of the great Prakriti, there will always be all sorts of
reactions: inertia, breakdowns, fixations, or other forms of psychic
suffering.
―All conscious work coming from the inner being is a direct attack on
the power of ‗my‘ prakriti and also on the power of the great Prakriti. An
ineluctable progression connects them. The greater the inner effort, the
stronger my prakriti‘s defence of itself becomes and the bigger are the
obstacles set up by the great Prakriti. But remember that in the Bhagavad
Gītā, Krishna says on the battlefield: ―If I reveal to you such a great secret
about Prakriti do not repeat it. If you speak, you will be stoned.‖‖
Emotions constantly make us mistake the path for the goal and vice
versa. And they are not the same! If you want to climb to the top of a
mountain, do not lose yourself in sentimental ramblings about its beauty. It
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 91

is better to look for a clearly marked path that will take you to the top from
the spot where you are standing.
If one does not give any value, positive or negative, to emotions, one is
in the presence of a motor that makes use of prakriti only at its habitual
speed. Water in a test tube is a form of heavy matter. As steam, the same
matter, while taking up more space, is also more aerated. In the same way,
a human being can suffer from emotions as heavy as stones in his heart, or
else from emotions that have become more subtle, and while still existing
allow light to show through.
Try to understand that a well sustained objective attention, as well as a
thorough self-observation, can destroy the process of reflection about
oneself, that is to say, the emotion itself. What remains beyond emotion
must be observed with the greatest care, for the purity towards which one
is tending is a state difficult to describe. It is the state of pure Existence
(sat).
It is unthinkable that a teacher should be impatient, for he knows that
there will never be any change in prakriti, whether it happens to be rigid or
pliable, even if one is vigilant or even if by sustained attention one could
touch and taste a state that is the Absolute. Alas, this ―any one,‖ according
to the Bhagavad Gītā, means one in a million!

Psychoanalysis works on the intensive aspects of emotions. They are

brought out into the daylight with the object of cleaning out the
subconscious, and are thus lived over again, which means that each of
them is amplified. Instead of belonging only to the damaged part of the
being, they invade the whole field of prakriti as weeds spread through a
wheatfield.
The very structure of emotion should be denied as such, for it arises
only from one‘s subjective view of external elements. It is for this reason
that, as is the case in the traditional technique of the Buddhist analysis, the
control of negative emotions must be methodically practised. It is one of
the essential bases of inner balance which vaguely exists partly disengaged
from the heavy sleep of prakriti. This sleep with its weight of ignorance is
an admirably organized automatism of Great Nature.
 ■ Emotions ■ 92

The traditional techniques pay no attention to emotion. Even the

worshippers of Krishna, who make full use of emotion in their
fundamental attitude of adoration, use only those sublimated elements of
emotion that sustain the ideal.
Several levels have to be passed through before one can know how to
minimize emotion at its very source, to recognize it, to isolate and to master
it, so as finally to be able to get rid of it. The lower stage is to realize once
and for all that an emotion is a debt to be paid—which is the beginning of a
process that uproots it. This is the process of eradication. The second stage
is to conceive of emotion as something to be abandoned or as a recognized
recurrence. It is part of the automatism which becomes apparent but has no
real existence. The third stage is that in which the light form of an ideal is
voluntarily and methodically put in the place of the heavy form of an
emotion which is oppressive.
There are many classical examples of circles around a Master in which
the disciples know only the heavy form of an emotion and therefore
interpret on their own level what is lived by the Master in front of them.
For instance, Shri Ramakrishna said one day, ―Where is God? He is there!‖
and he pointed to his heart. Shri Ramakrishna was speaking from the
deepest state of interiorization, but his disciple, who in their personal
discipline were still at the stage of the heavy form of emotions, therefore
deified the man who was speaking to them. Nevertheless, they faithfully
observed the intellectual part of the process.
These three stages in regard to emotion are admirably illustrated by the
story of the ―madwoman of Calcutta.‖ About twenty years ago in a
residential section of the city, people used to see a very young and
beautiful woman stopping passers-by on the sidewalk in front of her house
and asking them, ―Where is Shyama Babu? Have you seen him? If you tell
me where he is, I will go and fetch him.‖ Her beloved was dead and she
was still waiting for him, living from her love of him. And love had
betrayed her. The passers-by played cruel tricks on her.
Then another phase began for her. She clung to young men as they were
going by and said to them, ―You are my Shyama Babu, you have come
back…‖ Since she was not a prostitute, these men drove her away and ill-
treated her, even threw stones at her.
After several years, one of her neighbours who had known her in the
past noticed her sitting all day long at the foot of the sacred tree of that
district. She had aged but her face was radiant with joy. She recognized her
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 93

neighbour. He asked her, ―Have you found your Shyama?‖ ―Yes,‖ she
replied with a lovely smile. ―Look, there he is…‖ and she pointed to her
breast.
Renunciation (vairāgya), in a very precise sense, is the voluntary giving
up of all emotions whatsoever. This notion, supported by long tradition,
goes hand in hand with life. To be capable of mastering an emotion, one
has first to evaluate and consider it for what it really is, the distortion of an
uncontrolled and misplaced sensation.
When the intestines are out of order, one must follow a strict diet. The
cure comes about by abstaining for the time being at least from certain
foods. Thus the body regains vigour. Psychically, power is restored. This
method is the opposite of psychoanalysis, which digs about in the ego.
Sāmkhya places you under a cosmic force and is interested in the ego only
to say: ―Why are you afraid of this or that? All these things are only
movements of prakriti, aspects of the recurrences which concern men,
animals, and the whole of Great Nature.‖ One must learn to live in the very
movement that shapes and moulds our prakriti, without trying to escape
from it. To look at prakriti as a whole and see its agitated movement makes
it possible not to identify with it. I observe what goes on. By doing this, I
feel the movement in myself, but I do not linger on the fact that I was
created in the same way. In this discipline the element time plays an
important role, as well as patience. On the part of the Guru this patience is
pure love.

Emotion does not enter into any spiritual discipline because in itself it
has no steadiness. It is only a moment of Prakriti. When the mind is
perfectly calm it is like the still water of a mountain lake. The slightest
ripple on the surface is an emotion.
What happens to it? If Purusha allows this ripple, however slight, to
intensify and become a wave, he himself will be swallowed. Blind emotion
is then the master of the situation, although in fact it has no raison d’être.
If this emotion, while it is still only a ripple, is voluntarily interiorized,
then little by little, because of its lack of consistency, it will disintegrate of
itself and go back to whence it came, being nothing but a shining way of
beatitude (ānanda).
 ■ Knowledge ■ 94

KNOWLEDGE

Knowledge, even partial, is in constant contradiction with the practical

facts of daily life. Even those who are at least partly aware of this are
unable to move in a straight line, because they go from shock to shock in
the midst of contradictions which unceasingly create reactions.
For behind every contradiction there is this irresistible something that
impels us forward and that can only be approached by an extension of
oneself, as a river in flood spreads its water over the land without losing
sight of its bed.
To progress on the path of knowledge, you have wholly to live your
truth of the moment. This truth will purify itself in your integrity. What
matters most is to have a global sensation of yourself. In this way you can
see what is taking place in you and know whether you are living according
to your own truth. But it would be a mistake to speak about it. All you can
do is to irradiate this experience.
There comes a time when a transposition must take place because a new
Law is in question here. Don‘t interfere; otherwise all the explanations you
give yourself will distort your vision. No one can bear the rigorous and
absolute detachment of Purusha; that is why Prakriti has so many
intermediate truths to offer. Once you have created unity in yourself, there
will only be one Truth, even if it seems very far off.
Only a very few will enter the esoteric circle of knowledge, which is like
an ―armour of steel,‖ for the divine power is intensely active there. At that
time it is no longer a question of activity or non-activity, because he who
lives in sensation sees God in everything; forms appear only to express an
idea.
A time will come when two or three hundred families, each with two or
three children, will live wholly in accordance with the science of inner life.
The great mass of humanity will disappear or serve solely as a ground for
those who know. What will take place will again be the phenomenon of
castes. It was merely from ignorance that castes were imagined to be
originally institutions of a social order. They had an esoteric meaning. In
the beginning they divided people according to different modes of
perception. The notion of caste has become atrophied and degraded in the
course of inevitable deviations in the descending Law. This degradation is
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 95

responsible for the loss of the rules that used to regulate the passage from
one state of consciousness to another. The key word has been lost.
―To have eaten the mango‖ is an expression meaning to have tasted the
fruit of knowledge. After having tasted knowledge, there is a state in which
one says, ―I do not know,‖ for knowing no longer matters.
A strange fact is that someone who still likes discussions keeps on
talking and teaching. And so much the better. On his level he is doing
useful work. Vigilant observation of oneself means not sinking
unconsciously into the depths that open up, but penetrating them
gradually, for the inner being has become very sensitive.
It is said that the seed of knowledge has to be passed on secretly to him
who is ready to receive it. After that it slowly ripens.
What becomes of those who have received this seed of Life? Some of
them disappear with their treasure, and are heard of no more. But if a
flame of living knowledge flares up in some particular place, the continuity
of tradition will be recognized. There are well known signs. This fact is
beyond man‘s vision. There is no logical explanation.
Some disciples create works bearing the name of the Master from whom
they have received everything, with the aim of perpetuating his teaching;
ashrams, esoteric schools, hospitals, universities and so on, which will
constitute a way of progress for many people.
Other disciples, after a certain time, fritter away their treasure and even
trample on it, for prakriti has once more got them in its grasp. They will
seek and find a new Master, but the process of dissolution goes on without
their being aware of it, because it is a part of their own nature.
In every discipline there are those who know and see the Divine beyond
the Guru. They are exceptional, outside the ordinary ranks of man. They
are the solitary ones who re-live, through fragments, the experiences of the
sages (ṛṣis). The priests despise them and chase them, but should they
become famous through their asceticism, their inner search and their
wisdom, those same priests will build temples for them and celebrate
sacrifices (pūjās) before them.1
―He who knows‖ supports the world by his realization. His only
treasure is to see ―That.‖ This word represents either an abstract idea or
―He who reigns in the heart of man.‖

1 Shri Ramana Maharshi (died in 1950) is a striking example of this.

 ■ Knowledge ■ 96

Those who recognize the existence of cosmic Laws through which the
primordial Energy expresses itself acknowledge a trinity which is : Father-
Mother-Child.1 There is a Tantric verse (śloka) which says:

―… true emotion,
like a pure virgin,
dances with quick, light steps
in the heart of the yogi…‖

All yogis say, ―This pure virgin of which one speaks here is real emotion;
it should be offered to the Supreme Lord, there where he dwells above
everything.‖ Then the heart melts. A moment of ecstasy, of abandonment;
then comes the moment of a return to life. Such is the power of śakti. From
such a union a child is conceived, a child of ethereal substance. This child is
like a living sleep, conscious twenty-four hours a day in the womb of pure
emotion. He has been wished for.
If, in the phenomenal world, such a child is born, he (like all other
children) is symbolically black (tamas-inertia) at birth. He will inevitably
have to evolve and pass through the first cycle of colours that form the
transition from black to red (rajas-energy). Complementary colour cycles
will develop from the red and pass symbolically to white (sattva-spirit).
Amongst the complementary colours much importance is given to yellow
because it has no trace of either black or red. In fact, yellow represents the
energy of śakti. Śakti herself moves in the higher knowledge of Shiva who
appears fully white. The whiteness of Shiva radiates. Projected against the
dark blue of the transcendence of Krishna-Purusha, it appears still more
luminous.
Sāmkhya says that at the time of birth, on whatever plane it occurs,
there is always a mixture of colours requiring purification until the white
becomes pure and sparkling. He who has passed through purification
becomes a Master. A Master is one who plays indifferently with all the
colours of the rainbow. Black remains black, red remains red, and yellow
remains yellow, each colour serving some definite aim of the Master.
In the Vedas the three colours black (night), red (dawn), yellow (noonday
sun) appear daily in the same order and disappear in the inverse order. The
recurrence is rigorous. Psychologically, these three colours are the
fundamental modes of expression existing in each of us. Black symbolizes

1 See pp. 25-26.

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 97

the unconscious heaviness or sleep of the inner being, which likes to persist
in the midst of the prejudices that come with it. Red symbolizes
impetuousness, agitation, temporary subjective awakening and sudden
changes of direction. A period of agitation is always difficult but
inescapable, for it is the time when prakriti moves by leaps and resists. This
agitation will gradually cease by itself if, instead of feeding it and
struggling against it, you utilize the force of knowledge. Yellow symbolizes
a more subtle period. White is the vision of the whole in which ‗doing‘
finds its place.1
A Master is able at will to use the unconscious heaviness of those
around him because the inertia of nature is the ground on which Shiva
performs his cosmic dance. A Master knows everything without reacting to
anything, which in an ordinary man would be an attitude of stupidity. If a
Master uses the agitation which is around him to create and destroy what
must be destroyed, it becomes an energy guided by his wisdom, since he
draws it from a Law known to him alone. This knowledge of a higher Law
is white and faintly tinted. If a Master is conscious of this in his realization,
he will make few mistakes. With this whiteness he has full control over the
whole spectrum of colours. That is why Yama, the Lord of Death, is always
represented esoterically in white, which is higher Knowledge. The buffalo
on which he rides is pictured as black, which is the material force, and his
śakti in red, which is the operative force.
Chaitanya said, ―A man known for his wisdom in the world will find it
difficult, even with all his intelligence, to understand the way of life and
the actions of a man who has attained realization of the meaning of the
cosmic Laws.‖ That is also why the Kaṭha Upanishad and the Bhagavad Gītā
speak of the Master who says to his beloved disciple: ―… No one can
understand me, not even you. Be satisfied with praising me…‖ Indeed,
only the heart can recognize the Master. In this connection, I shall tell you
some characteristic stories illustrating the extreme freedom of those free
beings who play with the Laws. I shall not give any names because in
popular language they are always called ―Khepa‖ or ―Mast.‖2 Who they
are, no one knows, for those who live near them have completely forgotten
where they came from.

1 ―Doing‖ is used in the sense of genuine action freely undertaken and fully conscious.
This is very far from what is customarily called ―doing.‖
2 The title of Khepa or Mast given to Sufis, like that of Baul given to Hindus, means

―Fools of God.‖
 ■ Knowledge ■ 98

Once upon a time Khepa Baba was in Benares in the middle of a crowd
of people who kept looking at him without daring to approach, for if
anyone bothered him, he would brandish his stick and hurl insults. One
daring woman came towards him moaning, ―Oh Mahārāj, have pity on
me.‖ ―Daughter of a whore!‖ Khepa Baba shouted at her. ―Come here and I
will rape you in the street in front of everyone!‖ She fled!
Khepa Baba had a jug full of wine in front of him. He calmly drank it
down to the last drop without saying a word. The people were stupefied at
this impious act,1 not understanding what was going on, but his disciples
noticed that he had become white like Shiva; his body radiated light.
Khepa Baba was in ecstasy.
With his immense power and his heart of pure gold, Khepa Baba spread
almost insurmountable obstacles around him and created dangerous reefs,
thus provoking deep disturbances in all those living near him. Who was
he? What was he doing? He scrubbed off people‘s prejudices, he punctured
the abcess of their ego, he burned the pillows of their laziness. Khepa Baba
did all this in his uncouth way, for he himself was beyond good and evil.
He provoked people into constantly facing themselves.
One day he ordered one of his favourite disciples to accompany him to
Brindavan, which is one of the most sacred places of India, its atmosphere
filled with sweetness and charm of the Child-Krishna. Khepa Baba sat
down among the beggars on the side of the dusty road, a piece of cloth
spread out in front of him. Passers-by threw alms into it, small coins or a
handful of rice. According to what he received, Khepa Baba murmured a
word or two of blessing or emitted an obscene swearword. Back at his hut,
he tied up the coins he had received in a rag and hung it on the wall. He
lay down, but like a miser, kept watch over his meager treasure all night
long, stick in hand. His disciples, silent and reproachful were observing
him. At last Khepa Baba swore at them, ―Are you criticizing me? Well then!
Away with all of you! What keeps you here?‖
―I couldn‘t leave,‖ related his favourite disciple. ―I remained standing
there until daybreak, not understanding what was going on before me or in
me; and when the Master got up, I followed him. I sat down behind him
while he begged on the side of the road. Then the Master turned round and
said to me in a serious voice, ‗Take a good look; this is one aspect of the
world, and I shall show you still others!‘‖

1In India it is traditional for those who give themselves up to a spiritual search not to
drink alcohol.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 99

―On another occasion,‖ continued the disciple, ―Khepa Baba sent me to

the village market to steal a goat. He had seen it while passing and wanted
that one and no other. It was an easy thing to do. But I was resisting. He
insisted. I still refused. Then he shrugged his shoulders and went to sleep. I
felt as though I were drunk, full of anguish. I started to vomit. Finally,
covered with shame, I went out, weeping and gritting my teeth, and stole
the goat. It was not until much later that I found out that all the goats of
this supposed merchant belonged to Khepa Baba. One day Khepa Baba
brutally chased away this beloved disciple. ‗Go away!‘ he shouted at him.
‗You are able to fly now with your own wings!‘‖
Among the disciples of Khepa Baba there was at Brindavan an illiterate
villager, docile by nature and full of faith. With other pilgrims, he subjected
himself once a year to a severe discipline which consisted of going around
the whole town barefoot, making prostrations from time to time. At night
the pilgrims rested but resumed their painful journey every morning at
daybreak. The sun was blinding, the ground burned the soles of the feet,
thirst and hunger were a constant torture. Well, one night Khepa Baba
happened to be at one of the stopping places where the pilgrims were
sleeping. He called that villager and asked him to prepare for him and
others with him some chāpātīs,1 insisting that they be very thin. The villager
went to light a brazier and began to knead the flour with water and salt. He
made a pile of chāpātīs and brought them to his Guru. ―What a fool you
are!‖ said the Guru, and raising his stick, struck him full in the face. The
villager did not stir; his eyes saw only the eyes of the Master. Then Khepa
Baba caught him by the shoulder and pressed him to his bosom. He made
him sit down by his side and then to eat first. This disciple became a great
saint, who died before Khepa Baba.
Khepa Baba wore his matted hair rolled into a bun on the top of his
head. One of his disciples, imagining that he had hidden jewels in there,
decided to poison him so as to get hold of them. One night he went
stealthily to the corner of the house where the meal was being prepared
and put arsenic in the Guru‘s food. But he was caught in the act. Yelling,
the other men seized him to beat him and throw him out.
―Don‘t chase that man out!‖ cried Khepa Baba.
―Then you must do it yourself,‖ shouted the disciples angrily.
―What has he done?‖
―He tried to poison you with arsenic!‖

1 A kind of unleavened bread.

 ■ Knowledge ■ 100

―Ah!‖ exclaimed Khepa Baba, ―and you poison me daily with your
quarrels… Get away, all of you! Out of here!‖ The tumult subsided. The
man remained.

It is difficult, indeed, to understand the actions of a man who has come

to the realization in himself of the cosmic Laws; his life is lived under
everyone‘s eyes day and night, and is absolutely untainted with egoism.
Khepa Baba, with all the knots of his heart untied, let things happen
naturally. What did it matter that someone wanted to kill him and others to
avenge him? The Laws have always worked in the same way, in a prakriti
that is always the same.
In the ashram in Assam the contrasts were equally violent. What is a
Guru for, if not to tear us apart from ourselves? The co-disciples were often
hungry while the Master had all he could possibly want. Those who could
not bear it left. To others it all seemed natural; we were intoxicated by the
Master‘s presence. We lived on his knowledge.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■101

LIFE—DEATH

―Let me carry Death in Life,

So that I may find Life in Death.‖1

These two lines from Tagore give a key to understanding what we could
call a spiritual existentialism.2
Life has to be lived against the background of death.
The idea of death permeating life can make us free, free from all
bondage and limitations, whereas life by its own nature possesses and
binds.
If in our lives we could keep in ourselves the quietness of death, we
would have access to creative intelligence. On the moral plane this would
be the level of objectivity.
To die consciously is simply the passage from one density to another in
the full consciousness of the inner being.
I am not speaking of death in its physical aspect, the inevitable last scene
of the human drama, but of death in Shiva, that is, of the transcendence
that sustains the creative rhythm of life. All of us can ‗construct‘ all sorts of
things in ordinary life, but to create we must be liberated by conscious
death in Shiva. Creative vision, in fact, belongs only to him who, without
being stopped by the dance of life, dares to look within himself as far as the
Void. Then what does he see? The beginning and the end, that is to say, the
seed from which life springs, and the flowers under which life‘s adventure
ends. He sees the rainbow of the Void linking them both.
How desirable it would be to feel in oneself the great force that lies
dormant behind the term māyāvāda.3 Māyā in itself is neither illusion nor
relativity. Alas! People do not wish to understand that these two words
express the passivity, the sleep and the recurrences belonging to prakriti,
whereas māyā can mean free will and the freedom to create. Māyā is a life-
idea in its multiple forms, just as the word ―flower‖ gives rise to endless
forms in the mind.

1 From Naivedya (Offerings to the Deity) included in Gītavitāna of Rabindranath Tagore.

2 See pp. 70-72.
3 A theory according to which multiplicity or manifestation is unreal.
 ■ Life—Death ■ 102

To which form should one be attached? To each one and yet to all at the
same time! Imagine that you are not attached to one form or another, that
you are impartial, then every form will delight you, for in each one you
will see the life-idea incarnated. And māyā is the exuberance of creation.
Thus India exists in various forms, some beautiful, some ugly, yet the
dualistic distinctions become unreal as soon as a movement upward
toward the light is recognized. Our life-impulse is evidence of the reality of
this.
How true is the saying of the Buddha that the ultimate reality is the
Void itself and that existence issues from non-existence. All we can try to
do is to bring the idea of death to the very heart of life, for to know that
everything will finally disappear into the Void is a great relief. We work
with a smile and a feeling of freedom only if we know that nothing will last
forever. In this knowledge we can be like children building castles of sand
on the shore of time.
The self might be eternal but the body is not. It must wither away. When
the body can no longer work, it goes to sleep or dies. The only consolation
is that even then one can remain fully awake in the inner being. And then,
only then, like the dying sun, one feels an expansion into oneness with the
reality behind. One has then no wish to take part in the devil‘s dance of the
world. One should resign fully to this play between spirit and matter and
not turn back. This is the carrying of death to glory in life.
All Rāja-yoga is a study of death: how to accept consciously the living
inertia and dare to face it. He who dies valiantly in war or in self-sacrifice
touches a plane of consciousness which, at its best, corresponds to the
spiritual being. He who sees death approach with bitterness does not know
really what sweetness is. He who sees death approach with sweetness
knows as well the meaning of bitterness. This is a much higher plane of
consciousness.
To follow this discipline throughout life is to harmonize the levels of the
inner being in the face of existence, without identification, without thought,
with the help of breathing exercises (prāṇāyāma)1 when they have become
familiar and natural. Then the Void is the return to the beginning, the
matrix of Life.
At the moment of death, all that is matter returns to matter, all that is
energy returns to primordial energy. Only those very rare beings who have
worked consciously to bring their different ‗I‘s together around the central

1 Prāṇāyāma are breathing exercises that can lead to a knowledge of the inner being.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 103

axis and who have freed themselves from the grip of prakriti escape this
dispersion. For them, real Existence (sat) continues.
He who is conscious of this process progresses slowly and without any
will whatsoever, for unification around the axis is not the result of efforts
but is made possible by a new ‗substance‘ which arises when the right time
comes. This substance is known exactly, and is described in different ways
in the Upanishads.
At the moment of physical death or of passage to a lighter density,
Purusha is perceptible in the vibration of śakti. It is a moment of
transubstantiation, a function of the spirit informed by sensation.
When you are face to face with death, do not struggle. Let yourself
guide. The wave that will carry you away is cosmic. It is not comparable to
any life force. It is written that ―death is the last of the sacrifices.‖ To reach
this point, the sacrifice of life must have been made long before. Then in
the last sacrifice, there is not even a waiting for death. It is simply the ‗life-
death state,‘ even beyond the experience being lived. Just as you progress
through life, so you will progress through death. Do not struggle. It is with
this attitude of openness that one can hear ‗the call of the secret
companion,‘ the voice of death. What follows no longer has any meaning;
one enters a new field of forces. Does one know what is going to happen
when arriving on earth? Why would it not be the same thing after death?
There may be as many solutions in death as there are in life. One follows, it
is certain, a road opened by an exact Law.

The monk‘s renunciation, sannyāsa, truly signifies death. It is one of the

great traditional ways of India.
A theory of death and sannyāsa existed among the Vedic sages long
before the advent of Buddhism. Buddhism, with its great monastic
tradition, is a kind of organized sannyāsa. The Buddhist monks were
nourished through the Sāmkhya philosophy, with its idealization of Shiva.
In short, Shiva and Buddha became the same ideal, expressed by the
sound ―A-Ham,‖ which expresses the whole being and the whole ego,
since this sound is composed of two letters—the first and the last of the
Sanskrit alphabet.1
It is written in the Purāṇās that the first letter of the alphabet stands for
life, and that the last stands for death. Therefore the two states, life-death,

1 Aitareya Aranyaka, II, 3.8.

 ■ Life—Death ■ 104

are united by the great mantra ―Hari-Hara,‖ which means ―to live a full
life.‖ But no one understands it.
How many sincere monks are there on that difficult path of destruction
(pralaya)? Very few. Most of them wear the ochre robe of renunciation as an
emblem of what they are attempting to reach, but are not any the less
attached to what they still possess. Sometimes it is merely the idea itself
which is represented by their robe. The real sannyāsin is the one described
in the Bhagavad Gītā, who goes about with no outer sign by which he can be
recognized and who often wears different masks in the world.
The question ―What exists after death?‖ was formulated very early by
the ṛṣis of the Upanishads.
Rāmprasād,1 much nearer to our time, gave an answer to this question
in one of his songs, which even today is on everybody‘s lips:

―… Do you know, my brother,

what man becomes after death?
There remains but a water bubble…
Spurting from the wave, it sinks again into the foam
forming but one with the immense ocean…‖

The question ―What becomes of the soul after death?‖ was also asked
long ago in the Kaṭha Upanishad2 and the answer given was exactly the
same as that of Rāmprasād.
If we accept this idea of the water bubble leaving the matrix of Great
Nature and returning to its bosom, then there is neither paradise nor hell
after death.
Indeed if this answer is felt to the point where the entire being is filled,
all values, in this light, become true.

Death is luminous—its luminosity is similar to the luminous darkness

recognized by science in the Cosmos, revealing all existing colours.
Time merges into space as life merges into the Void. If you always bear
this in mind you are not afraid of the moment of dying. The luminous Void
gives you such security!
One might go off at any moment. But one has a duty toward oneself and
toward the Void, a very definite equation must be solved. If one says, ―I am

1 XVIIIth century.
2 Aitareya Aranyaka, II, 1.15.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 105

in the Void,‖ it must be not only with the mind and prayers but with the
whole being: the pure being and the impure being, both together.
Death and life cannot be separated. They are the bi-une aspect of
Creation. The Bhagavad Gītā states it: ―What has had a birth must one day
die. What is dying will be reborn.‖
Death is real communion with God; why are people so afraid of death?
It is because they cannot drop their small ego. They hold on to it; then,
seized by fright, they are unable to go further.
It is only when we can consciously bring death within life and life
within death that we can laugh about anything or rather smile softly. What
has really a meaning? What can we really do? Only be ourselves and create
harmony in people and between them without interfering.
We have each of us to meet our karma and surrender fully to it. There is
sometimes a strong pull upward with a feeling of lightness and joy, then
comes a pull downward with pains and anguish, a drowsiness of the mind,
a fatigue of the body, which almost faints and loses its hold. From this
impure plane, we might suddenly be drawn upward because our eyes have
seen the way. Then immediately we stand above our anguish. It has
nothing to do with personality. It is simply as though the equilibrium had
been broken.
When our personal karma has been fully accepted, then it is transformed
into śakti, into power, a power in which one feels responsible for the
structure of one‘s being. But remember that the human śakti is never equal
to the śakti of God; even if we can share His wisdom and His joy, we can
never share His power! Man, however, is constantly trying to seize God‘s
power. At present, many scientists and philosophers busy themselves with
the subjective and objective worlds, trying to transcend both of them. Their
eyes are turned outward. They do not look inward, where the answer is
kept secret.
The deep Sāmkhya position is that of Purusha enjoying His own acting.
He knows and enjoys it in purity. When the human karma becomes śakti,
how does it merge into the power of God? There is a great calmness of the
self, apart from seeing: it is a self-enjoyment in which one simply looks on.

In front of death one is automatically drawn inward, and one lives

intensely the life of the great Silence radiating in every direction and
penetrating everything, which is simply its own self. This is living in
 ■ Life—Death ■ 106

complete aloneness in the great Alone. This is the ‗golden Germ of

existence‘ which eternally is, as the Vedic seers said. This Aloneness is a
mystery. It can be either ignorance or wisdom. Those who fear death are in
ignorance. Those who face death with a steady gaze, even knowing that
they cannot conquer it are at one with death and that is wisdom.
Remember the story of the great Sufi who, under Aurangzeb, affirmed
his faith as he was about to be beheaded. He was put to death because he
had declared: ―There is no God!‖ His followers knew that he had meant:
―One day, I shall be put to death for having said: ‗There is no God.‘ For as
long as I am in this body, how can I know God? Communion with God is
only beyond life…‖ Well, we are told that the Prince who had condemned
him to death, said when he himself was dying: ―I know no peace. Do not
take me as a model of Moslem life. I have never been able to surrender. I
have been arrogant. I know nothing.‖
You must train yourselves, day after day, to meet death at any moment,
in any circumstance. It seems a very cold path. But renunciation has a
strong and positive footing, which is love; while detachment is really the
fear of being caught by love. Of course, one can say: ―I am not attached to
you. I renounce you, and this is only because I love you. I don‘t allow you
to be attached to me.‖ One would then miss the real ―I‖ and the real me.
Real love means living a spiritual existence in spirit without name or
form—it is pure love in the Void.
If you reach that stage, then, you come back again from the Void, to
body and to forms. It is from this Void that wine and bread, though they
are matter, have become divine in the mystery of transubstantiation.
Similarly Christ on the Cross, for one second, was fully human, carrying
the agony of the whole world when he cried: ―Eloï, Eloï sabachthani—My
God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?‖1 In this complete surrender
and in the long cry that followed in which he gave up the spirit, he was
fully the Son of God, the Messenger.
Such aloneness is communion with God.

Through a long illness, any one of us could also ask the question: ―Why?
Is there no God for me?‖ The answer comes: ―Be patient.‖ In his last days,
Shri Ramakrishna, dying at fifty-four from cancer of the throat, also put the
same question and he gave himself the answer: ―Now I see everything as

1 Matt 27:46 and Mar 15:34.

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 107

total sat-chit-ānanda.1 Even this cancer in my throat is That.‖ Ignorance,

falsehood, pains have their weight in sat-chit-ānanda, a totality, a
completedness as expressed by Sāmkhya. Sām is the totality, that which is
complete. Khya is what one sees, what one speaks, what one knows. If one
loves God, one shall die to this body only. In love everything exists: what is
great and what is small merge finally into Unity.

In the Vedic tradition, the attainment of immortality is connected with

libations performed three times a day: when the sun rises, when it reaches
the zenith, when it sets, depicting the babe at birth, maturity, and old age.
All three belong to the lower prakriti.
But in old age, facing death means knowing that ―I am immortal,‖
knowing that death has two masks: the dark one and the luminous one. In
the Kaṭha Upanishad, Nachiketā speaks to the ―luminous Lord of Death.‖
Death can never be conquered but entering into it consciously means
keeping the vision of the Void and the flow of life within. It is from
aloneness that death, as the luminous bridegroom, appears with the one
sound ―OM‖ which is felt in the heart—a note in which the entire music of
prakriti, symphonies and all noises of nature, towns, streets, minds,
opinions and phonetics merge into one vibration, the divine ―OM.‖
In an ignorant way, the body is killed by death and burnt. It becomes
ashes, manure for the earth. But how many bodies do we have? Besides the
physical body which is destroyed this way, there are two other bodies
which can be felt and seen only by the inner being because they both have
a subtle form. They are the ―prāṇic-body‖ made of life-forces and the
―mind-body,‖ which is sometimes turned outward with an objective view
over the world and at other times turned inward with a subjective view
over the inner being. When this inner vibration becomes intense, the world
is completely forgotten. Then starts a continuous meditation, giving rise to
intuition which, in itself, is a spiritual attainment. Intuition expands in a
soft light, a light like the dawn in which ―one begins to feel that one is
united with that light.‖ It is a state of liberation.

There are two sorts of man. One is of the coward-type who is easily
crushed by shocks and blows. When he falls, he dies. The second is of the
hero-type who emerges from any shock or blow, sustained by his prāṇic-

1 Pure Existence, pure Spirit, pure Bliss.

 ■ Life—Death ■ 108

body and his mind-body, which react. These bodies cannot be crushed
even if the physical body dies.
How does the mind-body see death approaching? There is a point of
time in which two parallel views of different bodies merge. They can be
compared to the homogeneous light of dawn. The light of dawn is equal
everywhere. That flow of soft light is space, like a wide consciousness
spreading everywhere.
Then the sun rises in its glory with innumerable rays of light all around
it. With this movement of the sun, time appears in space. Sharp lines of
light diverge in all directions from the centre of the sun, every one of them
touching a point in space, creating innumerable lines of consciousness—of
people—nobody knowing anybody though attracted by the centre! There is
no unity, no fusion, but really a fission of light; except for the communion
of a few beings, beginning to feel in themselves: ―I am everyone, I am the
light.‖
Moving toward that communion, two lines of light might be coming
nearer and nearer to each other, both attracted by the one point—the self—
in the centre, which is the Great I. Love of the Great I is pure love in the
Void.
But we belong to time, where alone there is death. We are expanding
toward space, the homogenous globular Void which, in its centre, contains
life, death and beyond that Nothing.
 PART II

FACING REALITY

One cannot do,

but one can look on,
and see the One being,
and be with It.
 ■ Facing Reality ■ 110

For most people, ordinary life is lived, under some blind impulsion, as in a
deep sleep or in a narcotic state. Although not lacking an end of sorts, this
kind of life has neither heights nor depths. Only a few wake up. Pained by
the inadequacy they feel and see around themselves, yearning for a life
which transcends the usual physical needs, vital urges and mental
associations, they finally become absorbed in a new query. Hence begins
man‘s journey toward the fullness of life in the secrecy of the heart and in
the boundless independence of the soul.
The quest is integral in character, as is dimly evidenced in the world
consciousness where it is as yet incipient, a striving to make a fully
conscious life operate here and now. Obstacles come from the narrow
outlook that considers reality not as a whole but as split up into matter and
consciousness. In other words, the Totality1 in which all polarities melt, has
been distorted into a ―whole‖ divided into two parts, with the result that
―the integral Truth‖ has ever remained baffling and elusive.
It is man‘s destiny to realize Unity, which means realizing the Self, for
the one is the manifestation of the other in degrees as well as in
multiplicities. The journey is through the multiplicities and oppositions
caused by ignorance and onward to the shores of knowledge. The world is
the field of experiment for man‘s quest for Unity.
In his effort to march to the cosmic status of Laws, man produces all
oppositions by the machinery of egoism and of intellect. For instance, the
opposition of joy and sorrow is relative and primal; it exists not for the
unifying ―I‖ but only for the narrow, bounded ―I.‖
What is adequate for surface knowledge fails at the threshold of integral
knowledge and must therefore be replaced by intuition, or knowledge by
identity, in contrast to intellectual knowledge. So a retreat is indicated, a
withdrawal from the sense objects outside the mind, into an immersion
wherein the mind is transformed into the sixth sense of the mystics, in
which alone the profound mysteries are revealed.
The entire universe is a pulsation of energy upheld by whom? What is of
practical importance is that energy can be measured and put into service,
that its pulsation occurs in the mind where it is upheld and manifests itself
as dynamic play.
Why should existence be pulsated at all? The question can be ignored if
it relates to matter, but not if it relates to consciousness. If existence is
consciousness, waves of energy must also be conscious.

1 The Void.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 111

They do not however appear to be so in the waking state, now

ignorantly regarded as the only measure of consciousness. A satisfactory
reply might come through intuition, which can penetrate the depths of the
self and realize its nature. Existence is consciousness and its pulsations are
conscious pulsations, which in the depths of our being are apprehended as
primordial joy. To an integral view, the universe is the joy of the pure
Being crystallized through self-expression. Being is sat-chit-ānanda, a pure
sensation.
This is the essential nature of man, though it is distorted by a sense of
limitations, so that we do not feel limitless and wide but are cribbed,
confined and restless. We move only by blind impulsions of pleasure, pain
and indifference. This phase can be lived through by the practice of
deliberate, all-accepting indifference, until finally each of our reactions
lights up in consciousness and an immeasurable cosmic peace is attained.
An obvious gap in man‘s conscious striving has been filled by the ego‘s
power projections, so that reality has become a mere repetition or reflected
images with a variety of mutations and gradations. The power which
belonged integrally to the mind was projected out of the self, but can now
be drawn back into the self.
Indeed the ordinary mind looks on and passes judgement; it sees only
errors in the world-process and gives its consent because it wants to. This
entire process is ordained by an incorporated stress to create ―the many,‖
which then appears as truth, and ignorance as the acquiring of knowledge.
Yet we know of a truly creative higher-mind1 which exists germinally
within the ordinary mind. It is a living consciousness—a pure sensation in
which the subject is the object. To know is then to be. Existence and
consciousness are One—a harmonious whole.

The concepts of Purusha and Prakriti can best be explained by Sāmkhya:

Purusha the timeless, the immobile, the Seer, the ingathered totality—and
Prakriti2 with its dynamism of will in time. The life-urge rushes on, driven
by some hidden force which pushes it from below or pulls it from above;
but after reaching a certain point it subsides into quiescence, which in
awareness means a fusion of the plenum and the Void. In itself, this

1 Which is the super-mind in Sri Aurobindo‘s philosophy.

2 The higher Prakriti.
 ■ Facing Reality ■ 112

quiescence is simple, colourless and indeterminate; it is the final abstract

stage of pure Consciousness.
Its value cannot be measured; it is at once the zero and infinity. The sole
qualitative value that can be ascribed to it is a feeling of relaxation and
expansion and a sense of serene poise in the Void. It may mean a plenum
which, like the consummation of death, may burst into glory at any point
of the prakriti1 evolution.

The world of the spirit is just as real as the world of the senses and
mysteries abound in both. The adventures of the human mind in both these
realms are equally justifiable, because their ultimate aim is the creation of
some abiding values that will widen consciousness—the last irreducible
factor in the scale of being. What is hidden must be laid bare and made to
yield to the growth of the being as a whole. Here science and religion meet
on common ground: a leap into the beyond, whether aided by a flight of
the imagination or by a living faith sustained by what seems to be an
emerging truth, is the motive force in both. Both aim at converting
knowledge into a utility that will lead to a harmonious growth of the
collective life.
While science lays stress on tangible data, the spiritual quest is more
concerned with an array of subjective phenomena which seem to elude the
senses. In both, the mind is confronted with some indubitable facts of
experience, behind which it perceives the existence of some occult force
whose working it tries to grasp and manipulate. But it was not like this
with the ancient Vedic seers. A purity of consciousness allowed them to see
reality as a whole; and in the scale of matter, force and spirit, they could
discern a process of gradual illumination occurring in some mental Being
of universal extension and infinite potentiality. This is the integral Vedic
vision on which rest the two worlds wherein matter is as easily
spiritualized as spirit is materialized.

The sahaja is the innate, simple and blissfully free nature of man to be
discovered in the inmost depths of his being—his essence—―what is born
with him.‖ It lies in the inner temple of the heart, yet spreads over the earth
and transcends the heavens. The sahaja can be realized either rationally by a
simple intuition of the Void, or emotionally by a sublimation of human

1 The lower Prakriti.

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 113

love. Indeed the Void and conscious love are two aspects of the same
reality. And the conscious man is the ultimate Truth of existence.
A deep faith, a lucid rationalism, a crystal-clear vision are among the
features of a distinctive sahaja mysticism, which has been variously
described by rationalist schools as attaining light. The cardinal principle is
an inwardization that takes the form of concentration. This corresponds to
the plane of true knowledge as expressed in the Upanishads and to the state
of absorption of the mind described by the disciples of the rationalist
schools.
The basic ground of mystic life is always an inwardization leading to a
deepening and broadening consciousness that contacts and assimilates
reality. It means sensing the real and becoming the real and finding out
finally the link of pure Existence within non-existence.
The Vedic delineation of the mystic path towards the Void has given rise
to the practical science of Sāmkhya, with innumerable psychological details
based upon a well-knit system of philosophical theory, codified by
Patanjali in a set of Aphorisms which remain unsurpassed. But the mind
must seize upon some objective data before it can work its way up among
the described subjective data which form the core of every spiritual
discipline.1

In the Void, the primordial energy is simply existing. In its very essence
it is both dynamic and passive, the two distinctive forces which are always
fighting within us! It is from the marriage of these two qualities embodied
in the traits of Kardama and Devāhūti, that Kapila, the founder of Sāmkhya
and known as the Master of Wisdom, was born. In him there was a double
nature: the power which had created his father, Kardama, out of absolutely
pure mud, and that which had created his mother, Devāhūti, out of subtle,
divine matter. Devāhūti, who was purely aspiration, was attracted by the
material essence of Kardama, which she needed in order to make her
descent to earth.
Because he was made of mud, Kapila was bound to live in underground
caves. He had the double task of leading the human race to conceive of the
Void in all things and of demonstrating that it is impossible to realize the

1 In medieval India (15th-16th century) there was a confluence of the mystic currents of
the three great living religions of Buddhism, Hinduism and Islam. This explains why
some of their most significant terms can be considered as interchangeable.
 ■ Facing Reality ■ 114

Divine without having a body made of mud. Even the Buddha had such a
body, so that one day he had to deny it.
Kapila‘s primordial wisdom would have remained an abstraction for us
and would have vanished altogether were it not that his mother Devāhūti,
as has already been said, devoted herself voluntarily to serving the human
aspiration for the Divine.
The Void is at first an obscure conception to many, until the bi-une
existence in us becomes a reality. The secret energy of the earth rises up
like the sap of a tree, through the trunk of the body, to the crown of the
head where it blooms. Such is the union of Kardama and Devāhūti.
When in the practice of your discipline, you disappear into the Void,
you are using your own energy which usually remains dormant. But there
it is! It is your inner strength to be in the world but not of the world! You
can say: ―Within ourselves we are one with our power of manifestation,
while the spirit remains the witness.‖ Whenever you feel that they come
together, you must remain quiet. You then feel an indescribable sensation
of wisdom and that wisdom which is born into you comes from above! But
always be humble and remember that your physical consciousness with its
many contradictions, is a gift of Kardama, the being made of mud, while
Devāhūti, the strong aspiration of the soul, opens your eyes to a higher
dimension. The life plane on which there is a search for a mental
consciousness is already on a higher dimension, though still in the realm of
duality. Further on, an aspiration towards unity shines like the light of an
energy searching for a way to reach the Void. Of course it is a joy to live in
the Void and to see things being done for us by our own power of
manifestation.
The quality of a pure sensation develops little by little, because at every
moment the Truth is new. One cannot reach it by accumulating experience,
because the Truth is free, as are the Laws of life which govern events. The
values created by the power of manifestation are real only insofar as they
are relevant to the inner spirit. There one does not feel anything, as the
Void absorbs all shocks and you see a serene sky overhead. The meaning of
all existence is a peace which endures all.
Any real talk about scientific method is simply a return to a basic
empiricism where you are nothing but a pure sensation devoid of
colouring or stress.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 115

Remain unshaken in your spirit. That is the Law of manifestation

everywhere. And so, outwardly, life lives through death, while inwardly it
is immortal.

The sky is clear. One may say it is pleasant. By what standard? Beyond
pleasure and pain there is pure Existence; the Void which knows no
comparison nor degree and so is immeasurable. It is as light and superficial
as the appearance of things. Deep down in that superficiality there is sheer
emptiness. And it is a fulfilment beyond comprehension. Time shops. And
you are free.
Things will come and pass on. They do not come to stay. They are
always on the move. One is neither attached nor detached from them; one
simply looks on, standing in the heart of all movement without moving.

The body which is the denser part of prakriti, is slow to move. So it often
lags behind when the spirit in its turn is free. The body‘s mode of
recovering from any fatigue is to induce deep rest within itself from the
deeper source of the Void. It then becomes coexistent with the sky so
vividly described in the Taittirīya Upanishad. It is then like the body of a
small child newly awakened, in whom body and spirit are together in a
state of universalization. The ageing body will die one day; this is the
mechanical Law of prakriti. But there will immediately be a resurrection of
the Divine body in which ―the Word is made flesh.‖

A vision is a common phenomenon in the beginning of spiritual

experiences. It is a fact of inner reality which takes shape very naturally in
outer symbolism. The symbols should never be analysed by the intellect
but should be absorbed and understood by the heart. The intellect often
binds us to external conventions which do not allow us to see the
uniqueness of the Truth underlying the symbol. This is an enactment of the
eternal drama of the awakening of prakriti by the random touch of Purusha
and of the inner illumination finding expression in the sign.

For some days, I have been brooding over the idea of the supreme
Power (mahāśakti) being like a tiny girl. The experience is so wonderful! To
go to the Baby-Christ, or Baby-Krishna or Baby-Gauri is to go down to the
depths where the ideal and the real fuse in such a wonderfully simple way
that it becomes most expressive when it is inexpressible ! This vital
 ■ Facing Reality ■ 116

symbolism is the real Tantric way of looking at things. And the Upanishads
call it: ―After full knowledge, the spirit‘s return to childhood.‖ It is just the
opposite, and, at the same time, the complement of what the Freudian
psychologists would call infantile sexuality. In fact, it means going to the
roots of matter in spirit. And in Christianity this means incarnation which
is none other than sublimated idolatry.
This is life within, true life indeed, a volcanic eruption outside perfectly
balanced Laws, and with joy in both creation and destruction.

A very simple but strange experience occurred the other day. A baby
was crying loudly in a near-by house. Something must have been hurting it
badly. And the mother was crooning over it and trying to soothe it. The
baby was no doubt suffering. But the suffering was purely mechanical and
thus meaningless to it. It had no mind as yet and so it was suffering
passively and not creating more suffering through the agency of the mind.
But the mother?
Her anxiety is a creation of the mind which grows as the days pass by
and she cannot throw it off. And her suffering is durably greater than that
of her child. The child‘s mind is so light—it is one with Purusha and not
with prakriti. Why has the mother forgotten the art of suffering
mechanically, as she did when she was a child? Therefore life has become a
curse to her!
When spirit and matter come together there is a movement of energy
between the two; there must arise some suffering because of
maladjustments. But why bring the mind into it? Why turn an unreal
mechanical suffering into a mentally created one? Why not always remain
a child in one‘s heart?
Suffering there is and must be. But make it a dead mechanical thing,
only a movement of prakriti! No mind and no suffering! And this is
Sāmkhya appearing in the garb of Zen! Perhaps this is why Indian theatre
always turns a tragic drama into a comic one!

A fine comedy is staged by prakriti. It is quite natural that all things die,
even noble thoughts. But after their death, we solemnly and ritually turn
them into mummies and raise pyramids over them. The seed of life escapes
our notice. It takes root in the soil and silently spreads a carpet of green
grass around these colossal structures of man-made truths, of which the
archeologists are so proud. Everyone of us will die, but the bare Truth in us
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 117

will live. It will appear in a new garb. Always a new garb is woven by
prakriti to cover the austere nudity of Truth, which has been pictured as
the unclad Shiva roaming in the cremation ground.
Here is life and here is death, and both go together to make Truth. Many
walk along this path, but only a few will reach the goal. Those who drop
beside the way will turn into good manure. So nothing will be lost, and
there is no regret when the heart is full carrying within itself the whole
universe. ―Move on like the refreshing wind of the spring and make young
leaves sprout,‖ as Shankara has said.

When a work is an expression of inner life, it always moves smoothly. It

is like a running stream. If difficulties are thrown in its way, it will simply
move round them and then flow again freely and serenely.
When facing difficulties, identify yourselves with the power of śakti
which is working behind every movement. You can work carefully at the
level of your understanding. And you can take life as it offers itself to us. It
is a joyful inner experience to accept it as well as everything it brings us;
but the moment comes when we must know how to sever even the bonds
that bind us to one another.
We should remain fully in prakriti and yet above her, seeing in
ourselves the unfolding of the great drama of life, whose glorious end is
already known to us. The curtain descends, and we stand gathering the
whole troupe of dramatic personae within us. It is, as the Buddhists say,
the turning of the wheel of destiny which never stops. The wheel is always
moving. It will be moving on and on till the end of time. To reveal it to the
gaze of others, to follow it with our eyes, our heart, our deathless spirit and
to feel it with every atom of our being, that is immortality!
In this tremendous experience, all philosophies created by men are
nothing but verbalism, like a pile of dead leaves. The ―I‖ vanishes like mist
before light. But there again, the mind is thirsty for Truth. What is Truth? A
precise sensation of the ―I-subject‖ completely dissociated from the ―I-
object.‖ I am detached from my existence, from all that is matter, energy
and mind. But even at that stage, the ―I-subject‖ is still what tastes the state
of pure Consciousness. And where is the heart of the cosmic Laws, the
heart of the life Principle? The mystery remains insoluble, the face of Truth
is still hidden by a veil!
 ■ Facing Reality ■ 118

The idea of bringing back spiritual communism with a Vedic resurgence

is quite laudable. It means a spiritual existentialism which is just a natural
corroboration of living within ourselves.
But the moment we begin to live outside ourselves we are divided and
separated from others by our physical, vital and mental reactions. In
between the two attitudes, there is of course a land of ―spiritual romance‖
where the unattainable appears to be easily attained, but it leaves no mark
of any kind!
The Vedas speak of spiritual existentialism as being the domain of śakti,
who is inscrutable in her mystery and is ever elusive. Yet she does all and
everything. She is the pure sattva of Sāmkhya. If a few sincere hearts would
unite in this pure sattva, they could form the core of a powerful spiritual
centre, which could live and progress for a long time. It will sooner or later
degenerate into a church or an āśram, following then the natural Law of the
running down of matter. But the idea will resurrect and will rise again
from its grave.
―Spiritual existentialism‖ is a good expression. The idea behind it may
actually be a community feeling on the economic and political level. But
political ideologies are bound to starve if they are not supported by a
feeling of communion with the spirit that embraces the whole of
existence—matter, life, mind and spirit. This is the real Holy Communion:
in Christianity you call it ―God, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.‖ In terms of
Sāmkhya, it is ―the holy communion of Purusha and Prakriti;‖ in Tantrism,
―Shiva- śakti;‖ in Vedanta, ―Brahma-Māyā;‖ and you cannot separate the
two.
For they permeate each other as in the metaphor of ―two houses caught
by the same fire,‖ or just as in the case of a couple locked in a love embrace
where ―each is both.‖ This idea appears in Indian temple sculpture
innumerable times. The mystics have called it sahaja. We often call it the
Void, which is not a negation but a living and positive idea in which the
mystery of existence seems like a commingling of black and white. The
black is matter and the white is spirit.1 They enter into each other and
between the two poles of matter and spirit, or earth and heaven in the
Vedas, infinite shades of coexistence occur in different degrees of densities.
Density is an important word in the philosophy of the Void which is
expressed in Sāmkhya as the three guṇas. It is simply a philosophical
expression of the natural phenomena of light becoming darkness and vice

1 The opposition white-black always means Purusha-prakriti (spirit-matter).

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 119

versa. You cannot separate them. The illumination of the highest

realization of a seeker imperceptibly contains the dark matrix of nature,
just as that dark matrix contains in itself luminous possibilities of spiritual
evolution. To realize the two movements simultaneously in a single flash of
awareness is to realize the Void of the life within.
Then all densities disappear and spirit and matter become one, being
really the bi-une aspects of one total reality. The most subtle density of
natural manifestation is the ―ego‖ (the ―I-ness‖), which is so elusive that it
is extremely difficult to eradicate it. The point of fusion between black and
white is missed when the ego automatically divides the whole experience
into subject and object. But when, in a spiritual experience, the two are
fused, the self appears as the Void, embracing all. There is a feeling of
boundless expansion (ākāśa), which covers all things and yet allows them to
maintain their distinct individualities, and which are again an infinite
number of points, each containing the matrix of another universe. This is
Prakriti‘s attribute as a creative and executive force. It can be likened to an
acorn which, with its innumerable tiny seeds, contains a whole oak-forest!
If someone could realize this not only in feeling but in bodily sensation,
he could project a community living a real spiritual existentialism which
would endure and prosper. It is a great task and requires the power of a
super-human being. But it is worthwhile for a man or woman to undertake
it.
I can feel that some of you are on the brink of the Void! With a little
push you would fall into it locked in a close embrace. You would be
transformed into a fusion of fire and ether at the same time. The ether
would expand into infinite space and the fire would condense into a
luminous point becoming the matrix of matter. But you have to remember
that it is not a question of fission between the two, but of a fusion in which
each partakes of the nature of both. And again you can be helped in your
conception of this inmost communion by the metaphor of ―one fire
consuming two houses,‖ in which the flames intermingle as a couple in
love do. A Baul mystic of Bengal described it thus: ―When I loved him, I
did not know that he was a man and I a woman. Our hearts were simply
ground into one paste in which two elements mingled.‖

It is a fascinating discovery to discover how the higher centres—mental

and emotional, work in conjunction with the lower ones, including sex.
They can be physically felt in the nervous system, in which the group of
 ■ Facing Reality ■ 120

five elements are carefully and methodically arranged. This gives the clue
to the transformation or, as the Christian mystics call it,
―transubstantiation‖ of Christ‘s body. It shows vividly in what way the
body of the Christ became the Church. And, regarding a still earlier period,
it explains the dharma and the saṃgha (the universal spiritual principles and
community life) of the Buddhists. You must remember here that the mystic
Sāmkhya (and not the academic Sāmkhya of the third century, which broke
away from the parent stock) openly teaches about the five material
principles as arranged according to a scheme of different densities.
These things can be felt and projected like bright stars in the sky, as if on
an illumined photographic plate. You have to be fully aware of these bright
spots, not in an objective way as the ego does, but in the subjective way
which is a direct seeing-feeling, not of the ego but of the self that is simply
the Void. It is what a mystic will know from within, when from the centre
of the heart the cosmic periphery and ―a beyond‖ are felt. Then this beyond
or transcendence becomes a positive experience and absorbs into itself all
the negative modes of mental experiences. In a supreme awareness the
Void is possessed without any mental fumbling.
What a mystery is this ego! If it does not move, nothing is alive; if it
moves, it is subjective; if it looks around it is separated from others. Only in
the instant when it is both ―this and that‖ do we know the density which is
ours: weight, name, colour, form. The deeper we go into ourselves, the
more vulnerable we become until a reversal takes place like a strong gust
of wind, which almost bowls us over into the Void.

There is something particular to be noticed about the Indo-European

languages. They use three numbers to describe anything: singular, dual
and plural. Many of the Indian languages also preserve this trait. The
plural is of course descriptive of the plurality of the universe. In every
phase of existence, whether material or spiritual, we encounter the ―many‖.
They crowd and jostle together and then group themselves in pairs; the
result is that duality appears in a scheme of polarity, as light and darkness,
pleasure and pain, matter and energy, body and mind, and so on. These
dual opposites are surmounted by a spiritual principle which tries to
express itself everywhere in a sort of monism that applies from whatever
angle you look at things. So we come to the concepts of one matter, one life,
one mind, one human being, one nationality, one world, one God, and so
on. This universalization of any of the apparently plural entities can be
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 121

understood only when, in your awareness of them, you identify yourself

with their essence.
The total awareness of the identification of the ―many,‖ in Sāmkhya, has
been called Purusha. The supreme Purusha can be expressed not only as
the complete fusion of all the polarities and multiplicities, but also as the
bi-une Principle of the unified Purusha-Prakriti. And you can find the
intrinsic duality of Purusha and Prakriti clearly shown, for example, as
men and women go about in their daily life and multiply themselves in
innumerable pairs of boys and girls.
Well, we are in a quandary when we emphasize only the multiple
individualities. Then we quarrel. When we come to the duality, we already
have a glimpse of Truth. Further on, fusion gives us the true vision of
Unity.
And the whole is excellently symbolized by the picture of the two
dolphins.

Furthermore, as regards language, we must be exceedingly careful from

the very outset about the following: we must beware of the images
produced by the words we use habitually. The ancient Sāmkhya-masters
call it mental construction (vikalpa), which is a hindrance to the realization
of the essence of things.
For instance, when we speak of the root of a thing, meaning its essential
nature, we evoke the picture of a tree but we are emphasizing only the
bottom and forgetting what is at the top. In fact, what is under the ground
is only at a par with what is at the top and shoots up to the sky. The root,
trunk, branches, foliages, flowers and fruits all make up the tree,
surrounded by infinite space. And when we want to understand what a
tree is essentially, we must come to the seed which contains the tree in a
shell without differentiating the various parts. The seed is at the centre of
the infinity that we have named the Void, without attaching any particular
label or feature to it.
One must first have a good idea of this nameless and featureless infinity,
which is best symbolized by the sky (ākāśa) assuming different densities,
such as air, fire, water and earth, according to the old nomenclature. They
can be expressed in modern terms, which you will find hinted at in old
texts, as non-being or Void, and life-force (both being without any form);
light or the matrix of all forms; water or the life-substance to which all
matter has to be reduced; earth or the solid matter which is a cluster of
 ■ Facing Reality ■ 122

innumerable particles forming an organization, for example, our bodies

consisting of innumerable cells all of which have a distinct composition
and function but which are cooperating to form a vehicle for the spirit. The
spirit in its turn is formless and featureless,—a Void.
Here we clearly see the three distinct qualities of density (guṇas) at play.
At the top is sattva (meaning in Sanskrit ―being-ness‖ or essential nature); it
is the pure aspect of Prakriti upholding Purusha, which is pure
Consciousness or Awareness. Below is rajas, or the life-energy manifesting
the command of Purusha over prakriti. Lastly there is tamas, or the inertia
making up the body of Purusha.
In the scheme of the five spiritual elements, ether, air, fire, water and
earth, sattva is represented by the sky and rajas by the air and life-energy.
Light represents a double principle including formlessness. In meditation
we can see with our inner eye the formless Godhead and also, just like the
pagans, gods and goddesses emanating from darkness. The element below
light is water which is the condensed form of life arising from gross matter.
Last of all is the earth or matter itself. So all beings are an organization of
spirit, energy and matter in their different aspects.
Now to realize the Void or pure spirit, you have to enter into the
domain of mystic sensations behind the elemental sensations. Smell is a
primitive sensation common to all with which life starts. It is either good,
bad, soft or pungent, etc. Its mystic quality is a fragrance which arouses an
ecstatic condition in you, hence the incense burning in temples. The
common sensory taste is sweet, bitter, etc. Its mystic counterpart is flavour.
The vision of mystic light is usual for all spiritual aspirants. On the
ordinary level it is beauty. The mystic quality of touch is revealed in the
love-touch. And the mystic quality of sound is revealed through music,
which plays such an important role in all religions.
We have to train our ordinary sensations to rise, to expand and also to
dive into mystic sensations. Then we will see and feel that all existences are
shot through and through by spirit and energy which evolve matter out of
their ethereal bodies. Remember that reality is neither one nor many; it is
bi-une producing many, the love embrace of Purusha and Prakriti giving
birth to the many children of the same bi-une beings. And then the two
dolphins will splash energy in the Void in their frolicsome play!
As one rises in the ascending scale of rarefaction when passing through
the different gradations of the five elements, one notices how an intense
light between the eyebrows expands into the Void of pure Existence, which
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 123

holds the unlimited universe in its ambit and remains calm and serene, full
of the peace, joy and love that are the essence of all beings. There the
Creator and the created are one. One is then the very stuff of reality.

The Sāmkhya that has been described is not book knowledge. In fact, it
is at the core of all religions including even that of the primitive people.
The main outlines are clearly described but not in an academic way.
If someone tries to understand not by the intelligence of the mind alone,
but also with the intuition of the heart, it will not be very difficult for him
or her to get at the central theme. Spiritual experiences rest upon mysticism
and mysticism is not anything mysterious. It is simply the assertion of
truths which we have covered up with mentally constructed words. It
requires a fervor, an elasticity of the intellect, a simplicity of adolescence
which sees the Truth directly without being blocked by prejudices. Reduce
everything to sensations and then try to get at the sublimity of the
expression of the pure Existence which underlies all sensations.
I told you earlier that the simple sensations of hearing, touch, vision,
taste and smell have a touch of mysticism in them when they are
experienced as music, love, beauty, flavour and fragrance. They have been
minutely described by the works on yoga based on Patanjali. And he is only
an exponent of a very ancient teaching which is transmitted in the Vedas
and the Upanishads and still lives in Tantrism, Buddhist sahaja, and the
experiences narrated by the illiterate Bauls and Sants1 not only in Bengal,
but also in the extreme South of India. If you read between the lines, you
will find that Christ‘s teachings are mostly in the fashion of the Bauls. I
look upon him as a genuine Baul whose words have captured the hearts of
the simple people all over the world. Sāmkhya is also a way of mysticism
and mysticism is nothing if it is not a sublimation of sensations. It will not
do only to think about God, but you have to ―think-feel‖ about Him!

Approaching a new dimension really means a total immersion into the

Void. You must deeply ponder over this and get its secret clear and deep in
your consciousness. There is a process involved which might take a whole
lifetime. I give you here some hints:
Analyse a very simple proposition. You look at a child and say, ―What a
fine child!‖ It is a matter-of-fact statement. This belongs to the stage of

1 Large groups of wanderers, well-known in India.

 ■ Facing Reality ■ 124

sensation. The child is outside of you and you are looking objectively at
him and have only an impression of what he is like.
If your sense of beauty changes into love, you will come to love the child
and exclaim, ―What a darling!‖ This is the second stage where an element
of emotion enters into you.
If this stage is deeply intensified, you are approaching the third stage
and feel as if the child were your own; it becomes really like your own, a
child born from your womb as it were. You are then fully identified. The
child and you interact upon each other. This is the last stage in the
development of a pure sensation.
In the first stage, you simply observe like a scientist. In the second, you
are a poet and in the third, a mystic.
A scientist looks at a thing and thinks; but if his heart is moved, he
wants to understand the meaning of its working. By doing so he adds
something more to what his senses discover. He is approaching a new
order of Laws. A poet becomes a mystic when he identifies himself fully
with what he sees. In this total identification, space and time come together
as in Purusha-Prakriti (or Shiva-śakti) and are fused on a mystical plane of
consciousness.
Einstein‘s space-time continuum is on the objective plane, and so in the
first stage of observation. The poet and the philosopher, by adding the
element of feeling to it, discover the bi-une reality existing within Purusha-
Prakriti, which you might also understand as Shiva-śakti.
In the third stage Purusha-Prakriti interact and are in communion with
each other till they are fused into One, which is simply the Void. Here
space is fused with time and vice versa. We can say that the dolphins then
stop playing and melt into each other, forming the matrix of Creation,1 or
that the feared black goddess Kali, representing time, reduces the whole
universe into a pulp and swallows it! In other words, the bi-une reality of
Purusha-Prakriti melts into the Void.
You can look at an atom through a microscope and infer new forces in it.
But can you become the atom? No.
You can know intuitively what an atom is by deep concentration and
meditation and by inwardly living and becoming within yourselves the
Void. This is what the mystics have done throughout all ages and climes
and have reported their findings in a cryptic language peculiar to them.
What they have found subjectively by contemplation, in particular the
1
Bhāgavataṃ.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 125

many Laws of the universe, as set forth in the Vedas and in the many secret
Scriptures of olden times, we are now trying to find ―objectively‖ through
science.
To approach a new dimension remains the target of a deep search. Once,
in a vision, I saw a pyramid of which I could barely make out the point of
the apex, because the lines as seen from afar, did not meet. I wished to
climb it.
It took years and years till I climbed it. The pyramid had no top but only
a small plateau on which to stand for a short while.
He who climbs this symbolic pyramid is the son of man. But there, in the
humility of the mystery, in the barely perceptible expansion of the fifth
dimension which shines, everything is turned upside down. The son of
man can only say: ―Who am I? I am this and ‗That‘ also.‖ In the dying son
of man, a son of God is conceived.
One cannot remain for long at the summit. He who comes down from it
knows the space that the wise men have perceived. He also knows that the
many years of search in his life were instantly obliterated. Nothing remains
but a reflection of immensity, the All and the Nothing, the perfect Void.
 PART III

RAMBLING THOUGHTS
Many times, in the evening, we would sit around him
speaking about the Void.
Sometimes there was a deep silence between us.
The air was full of serenity—
life filling the space.
Sometimes he laughed, full of humour,
sometimes he was very serious,
speaking about himself.
Time was flowing in eternity.

Calcutta 1972-1978
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 128

When I first came to the Hills, I had a Nepali servant. You can‘t imagine
how conscientious he was! If he was two minutes late in the morning, he
refused to take a full day‘s pay. ―If you are two minutes late in the
morning, go two minutes later in the evening,‖ I suggested, and that
seemed to settle things in his mind.
I used to ask him to share my food at lunchtime. At first he did not want
to accept. I gave him whatever I was having and asked him: ―Well, how
does it taste?‖ ―Oh! it tastes sweet,‖ he answered, however bad the cooking
was. If it was good, he repeated: ―Oh! it tastes sweet.‖
Then I thought: ―Well, for that boy, the food is neither good nor bad, it is
simply sweet. What is Brahman? He is neither good nor bad; he is above
everything, he is peace, he is sweet.‖ This simple boy was filled with grace
when saying: ―Oh! it tastes sweet.‖ I never saw him angry, or in a bad
mood of any kind. He was always ready to smile. He was simply blooming
in God‘s light.
You see, his mind was not constantly searching for things to understand
and to explain. It does not help much.
You must attain to this simplicity, to this primitiveness in which there
are simply densities of various degrees between darkness, blurred vision
and clarity and then light. All that has been said and written about the
approach of self-observation is only minor work, only the first steps to
discovering what inner knowledge really is. Knowledge is simply finding
unity in the many. This is what an animal cannot do. It is the privilege of
the human being alone. On whatever level of society and whatever level of
civilization, man has this property of being able to arrange things around
an idea. And that becomes knowledge. As soon as it enters into his being,
he finds himself above everything and at the same time inside everything.
What is misleading about knowledge is that you don‘t see the whole,
you see only a part and you think that this part is the whole. Seen from
above, the part belongs to the whole and the whole belongs to the part.
Take the relationship between a mother and a child. There can be no
mother without a child, nor a child without a mother. But the relation is
that the mother contains the child, the whole of the child, while the child
only knows part of the mother. In order to know his mother as his father
knew her, he has to grow up. The mother is at mid-point. She looks down
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 129

upon the child, and then looks up to the father and says: ―This child
belongs to me, but I belong to you.‖
To have a clear vision of this situation, to see what is the part and what
is the whole, is liberation or pure existence. In a small way, the circle is
closed.

Rise every morning as if you were born again, breaking completely with
the past. Retain your youth and adolescence within you. Do you remember
yourself when you were just sixteen, when the portals of mystery were just
opening before your wondering eyes? Is that one lost? Can you find him
again? Do you know him? Does he know what is born with him?
All is there, all around us. We have simply to understand what goes on.
That is all. We are then at peace with everything.
If you see life as it is, you captivate the hearts of all those around you;
that is the eternal adolescence which is represented by the young boy
Krishna and Radha, the girl. Similarly Shri Ramakrishna called his young
wife ―Ṣoḍasī,‖ meaning the ―eternal girl of sixteen.‖ He deposited whatever
he had achieved in the palm of her hand, saying to her: ―I give everything
to you.‖ What did that girl know? Nothing! She just loved.

Do you remember the naughty small parrots at Lohaghat? They were so

lovely to look at! They would squander all the fruit of a tree in no time.
They cackled between themselves: ―We are jungle beings! Who does the
fruit belong to? God has created the trees for us, as well as the fruit. They
belong to us alone! We are not attached to this or that tree. You, human
beings, think that everything belongs to you. You spread a net over some
of the trees. Never mind, we will fly to other trees and come back later. You
can do nothing to stop us!‖
Do you remember the English lady, our neighbor, who asked you to
watch over her orchard and not to let the village women come and pick her
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 130

apples. And these simple village women were saying to themselves: ―God
made the earth, God made the trees, so God is giving us the apples!‖ And
you asked me what you should do: ―Should I guard the apples? I can‘t. I
feel as if cut clean in two, my body here, my mind there.‖ So I watched the
game going on, your dealing with primitive feelings and, within you, a
sense of logic valuable only for the part and not for the whole.
Also in Lohaghat, near the house, there was a spring running through a
ravine full of tall ferns. So much water and no flowers! I had never raised
flowers, so I decided one day to sow many of them and follow the wonder
of their growth. So I left my books and watched over the flowers morning,
noon and night, trying to guard them against every possible accident that
might threaten them, and there were many. They grew fast with bright
colours. They required much of my attention and time: ploughing,
manuring, watering, weeding, grafting, shading, as well as love and
protection.
They bloomed extravagantly and looked finally like a Persian carpet.
One morning, before sunrise, I cut them all and made bouquets of them.
Then I carefully turned over the earth and went back to my books. This and
That. The world of flowers had filled me forever. I only retain the habit of
keeping one flower in a tiny vase in front of Tara, the goddess of the Void.
To play the game of life is one thing, to know that one is playing it is
quite another thing. The Baul‘s role is to remain above the habitual level of
thought.
Never fail to watch the game! If you have a witness-consciousness, you
can be aware of what is going on in the players and in the onlookers and
laugh at the same time.
Life being made up of many and varied episodes, gradually you are
moulded by what takes place. Imagine that an enormous blacksmith with a
huge hammer—call him God—is looking at us. He throws some of us into
the fire and when we are red hot, he gives shape to what was shapeless!
While we are still red hot he dips us into the water. So raw material
becomes fine steel and that is ―inner discipline!‖ At one end the steel is
condensed, at the other one, rarefied and we become a really useful tool.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 131

Well, the Creator made a great mistake at the very outset by creating the
human being neither fully animal nor fully human! As we are constituted
with three twists in the spinal column, we have to consider that we have
also twists in our thinking! Our spinal column is not straight like the stem
of a lotus that rises from mud to heaven. Were it but straight, our
consciousness would be different and would easily follow a straight line!
For this reason many Indian yogis affirm that if you can teach people to
sit cross-legged, straight, still and stiff, looking inside right along the spinal
column, then, when the physical pain has stopped, a strange light in the
mind will occur.
In the West, you speak of solar plexus, thymus, pineal and other glands
which are really the cakras along the spine as represented by the different
lotuses. What is real is that this strange light which is stored at one end of
the spinal column can move to the other pole of the being. This is again
expressed in the theory of the Logos in the Bible: ―… in the beginning was
the Word‖, the fact of existence. One can create a complicated science for
the mind about this process; one can discuss the possibility of proving that
such light exists and this has been done by attaching electrodes to the skull
and recording the movements of the brain. There is a lot of dabbling along
that line, using fragments of ancient teachings to read aloud and people are
delighted to listen.
We see that people, especially young people, are ready now to plunge
into a dense forest of different teachings, in search of something they feel
they lack. They are looking for knowledge, for self-knowledge.
Inner growth needs time. At first the mere idea of it will make them
softer. Instead of being dispersed, their energy will turn around an axis. It
will help them to establish a new relationship with themselves and with
others. This is the basis for all community living. ―I myself am alive and, at
the same time, I respect your right to live. I have the right to live, and
therefore so do you.‖ With such words, their field of communication will
expand, but if they continue to think in the ordinary cruel way, nothing
will change.
We have to create a coordination between all these feelings. Gandhi
spoke of ahiṃsā, of non-violence: ―At the cost of your life don‘t be violent to
others.‖ Then the question arises: If someone is unjustly violent toward
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 132

another person, have I any right to object? Have I any right to give him a
good thrashing and make him stop his violence? Where do I stand? This
question is dealt with in the Bhagavad Gītā. Well, yes, we do have the right
to object but under this condition: that we ourselves do not get upset or
ruffled; that we remain calm and don‘t lose ourselves. The whole pattern of
social behaviour implies the attitude of a surgeon who is called to lance a
boil. He knows he is inflicting pain on a patient, but he does it, with a calm
mind, not to hurt but to relieve suffering. This aim can be attained only if
we act knowing that harmony is to be found in just two ways: first in a
mother‘s heart, and then in the calmness of a father‘s look. Do you have
these two? Here we are back in Sāmkhya, facing the principles of Prakriti
and Purusha. We are returning to the idea of self-knowledge.
First of all you have to discover, within yourself, whether you are
predominantly man or woman. Among the males, in the body of a man, a
woman may in reality be living. Shri Ramakrishna pointed it out. He said:
―What is in me is not really male, it is female; a woman has melted into me.
But what is in Swami Vivekananda1 is fully male!‖ This factor of
predominance you will find throughout the whole of creation. Of these two
attitudes, one appears to be rigid, staring into nudity, into the Void, ready
to face the mystery of death; the other is just moonlight at play, serene and
soft.
Each Upanishad expresses it in a different way:
―This play of the many,
let is subside,
just as at eventide
everyone subsides into sleep.‖

Every night, I hear the noises subside. The whole city of Calcutta
appears to me like an infant sleeping; it fills my heart with peace. ―I am
That. I am that I am.‖ This is self-realization or knowledge of the self.
One day, this knowledge is going to save the world. People who possess
this knowledge will grow in number, first independently, here one, there
another; then they will become coordinated. Then there may be a flood, or
something similar, and they will have to separate and start again. This will
go on, say for millions of years, until gradually they reach some steadiness.

1Narendra Nath Datta (1863-1902) who founded the Ramakrishna Mission at Belur,
Calcutta.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 133

But one single soul can have the total vision of this and know what may
appear in fifteen million years or so. It exists already in me! Then I smile. I
am an artist, I am a poet, I am a philosopher, I am God the philosopher,
God the artist — God in everything!
Now let us speak of self-knowledge starting from the fundamental
mistake the Creator made! Actually the human being is built to go on all
fours, his spine parallel to the earth and not erect. How can we try to
correct this position?
This is where the yogic discipline says: ―Just sit straight. Close your eyes
and try to feel the spinal column as straight. Forget that it is not straight.
Imagine that it is straight!‖ Gradually you will feel a lightness and also that
heat is being generated. Your temperature rises. If on a winter night you sit
erect outside in the cold, even if you shiver and whine like a puppy, you
will feel heat being produced within you. That is an old Tibetan teaching.
They undertook by sitting straight to produce sufficient body heat to dry a
sheet soaked in ice-cold water. It is said that Milarepa, in one sitting, was
able to dry four wet blankets. A strange thing!
For us, more simply, to sit straight, still and rigid, eyes closes, is to be
living truly within. Deep concentration takes place. What appears to you as
a speck or a point of light becomes a globe. Go deeper, then you begin to
feel three things at the same time: a vast calmness, a deep vital energy and
an illumination. The three together. Taken separately, they are the three
guṇas or the three densities working in your inner being which keep you
enslaved. Together and coordinated they mean freedom and liberation.
To sit straight is to think straight. It is a severe discipline, that of self-
knowledge. You must sit straight, die straight, with no crookedness and no
bending. This speck of knowledge means a lot; a whole life is needed to
strive after and attain it.
That is quite enough! Then you are open, waiting for eternity. Eternity is
a non-negative concept, it is a positive one. We all want a glimpse of
eternity. We can merge into it. Then we know that it exists, that it is the
only thing that makes you capable of loving, of enduring things, of
becoming pliable with yourself, with others, with every being, to live in
every being, even in an ant, in a worm, in a tree. The same soul, the same
God. ―The soul in me is the soul in everything.‖
What can exist except life? Only life exists! Inside it is life, outside it is
life. And that life is energy. Feel it deep, very deep within yourself. You
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 134

will then find that things will come to you all together, spontaneously. It is
not by thinking but rather by not thinking.
All this you know, deep in yourself. If you know it consciously, you
become a starting-point. Perhaps you are only a repetition. I say repetition,
but repetitions will come and go until everything is clear. You will even
hear people shout: ―These are all faked things; we don‘t want them
anymore. We want new ideas, new things.‖ But do you not see that the
same things are endlessly repeated? You, me, all of us are nothing but
repetitions!

Now comes the time to speak of self-disciplines. We shall speak of making

the memory light, and of fasting. In the Chhāndogya Upanishad, it is said:
―If you make pure what you take into yourself, whether as food or
thought, then your essence becomes pure and you reach pure memory,
universal memory—the only thing that has to be remembered.‖
To progress you must definitely follow these disciplines. Once you reach
universal memory all ties are dropped.
Those moments of purity are like beams of light which appear to you as
tiny dots of light. Many people have seen some of them during their life-
time. Only they don‘t know how to connect them, deluded as they are by
the Scriptures and different teachings.
To see them one day as a continuous line of light, one must first think of
every dot of light as independent one from the other, but at the same time
see that each dot is self-repeating. The dots of light are all of the same
nature—they are light.
Here come the facts known to science about the queen bee, which can
serve as a parable. On a very clear and sunlit morning, the queen bee
comes out of her hive. Immediately, all around her, there is something like
a signal going through the many hives. All the workers swarm out, and
also the drones, flying high in her direction. Between the drones there is a
race, but finally only one clutches the queen bee, clings to her. Then he
zooms higher and higher. But soon his limbs drop off and fall, one by one,
like the petals of a flower in full bloom. By that one contact, the queen bee
becomes productive for the whole of her life and lays millions upon
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 135

millions of eggs. In the Tantras, she is named Devi on that account. She is
also called Śakti, a wonder of light and power. She is at the same time
queen bee, drone and worker. She is self-generating and self-repeating. She
is a pattern of the universe. Would you call it one or would you call it
many? You can‘t say!
Similarly the dots of light by repeating themselves will come to form a
line of light. Just look at them longingly, with a strong inner desire. But no
clinging, no forcing! Simply look, without attachment and they will go on
coming! They will form a line and separate again, come again and separate
again. They will be playing with you!
Inasmuch as you can become a witness to their play, you are free, and
you catch sight of the real thing. Nothing faked, nothing imaginary but
ultimately only what is real.
It is not really a difficult discipline, but we lack the simplicity of a child
that is required in order to approach it. But somehow, once you fall in love
with it, you can‘t do without it because it gives you a creative power within
yourself.
Another self-discipline is fasting, which is much harder. If you pursue
the idea of reaching an ideal you come to the technique of fasting. The
point is to be self-sufficient, not to take in anything, to feel indivisible—I
am what I am—and use nothing from the many. And so for a while the
body becomes a cannibal and uses up the stored energy; it gets hungry,
famished and feeds upon itself. If it is strong enough, it goes beyond that,
perhaps crosses the normal limit of a long fast. By fasting you know that
you have received a given amount of energy. You can use it up knowing
that you can replenish it with food and thus it will apparently remain a
constant. But in this, you are mistaken! If you actually go, say for three
days, without food, just to feel what hunger is like, it will open another
dimension in your thoughts, perhaps unknown to you until then.
After pursuing this line of investigation for a while, you know what
fasting means for you. You must be consciously aware of it. You discover
that your consciousness acts just like a barometer. Without food, it goes
down and down. And then a darkness comes. With food, it goes up and
up, and light comes and you see. You see there and you see here. The vision
is always there, even when you close your eyes. On the higher plane, it is
the omniscience of God; on the lower plane, which is ours, it is the Law of
sympathy. I feel for my child, I feel for my friend, I feel for a lame man. It is
simply putting oneself in the position of others and trying to be just like
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 136

them. Then gradually that total vision will become inexpressible. There is
no way to express it, it can only be felt. And then ―everything tastes sweet,‖
as my little Nepali servant used to say.

All great sages have followed an eastern discipline of fasting. It is known

that the Christ observed a fast for forty days in the desert. We know
nothing of his regular discipline with food. But fasting has always been
regarded as a necessity in spiritual life.
Many scientific investigations have been made regarding the
transformation of food in the body. We have chemical studies, charts and
statistics about the amount of proteins, carbohydrates, vitamins, etc., which
are needed, but next to nothing is known about the psychological effects of
food: what makes you feel heavy, dull, drowsy, restless, passionate,
aggressive, serene, cheerful or self-poised. When you eat you immediately
feel a surge of energy in the body. The ―intake‖ of food means strength; but
it also means sex. For better or for worse nobody cares to know anything
about the ―transubstantiation‖ which takes place.
You must now study carefully the relation in yourself between food and
impulsion, food and feelings. So choose your food carefully and take only
the quantity you need. Pay special attention to this last question. This
discipline has to be followed meticulously.
The Buddhists and the Moslems have created artificial measures to help
themselves. An established rule naturally sustains an effort by applying the
mind to it. Thus the Buddhist must never eat after midday; the Moslem
observes strictly a long fast, during the month of Ramzan, from sunrise to
sunset. But both, at other times, can eat as much as they like. Many other
more balanced disciplines could be mentioned.
Any kind of dogmatism in a spiritual programme is an artificial
measure, because the only valuable relation to be discovered is then
falsified. The discipline of fasting is individual and can only begin when
one has a clear idea of the experience to be approached. The right attitude
towards the whole thing requires a thorough study of the link existing
between the body and the spirit.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 137

Many fast in order to obtain an external effect, as for example, to

influence the feelings of others. Gandhi‘s fasts may have appeared to be of
that kind, but in reality he fasted to have the inner strength to challenge the
resistance to his endeavours. Fasting to attract attention has nothing
spiritual in itself. A conscious fast is for keeping the ―channel of energy‖
open. It is rarely followed except by those who can no longer live without a
clear consciousness of inner purity. It is never advertised.
By fasting, I do not mean only the fact of not eating for a certain period,
but of becoming aware of the reactions of the inner being, of controlling the
impulsions when no longer sustained by the energy coming from food. Is
there not a finer energy to be recognized? The inner being is aware of what
goes on, feels at ease or suffers because the play of the two dolphins does
not stop. It cannot stop since it is life itself.
There is some confusion about the quality of food necessary and
whether it should be vegetable or animal in origin. Of course, food has
much to do with the building up of the mind. But there are some naive
people who imagine: ‗If I eat a cat, I risk becoming catlike!‖ And so they
decide to become strict vegetarians when they want to follow a spiritual
life. But this is obviously too simple a solution. Actually, it is one‘s attitude
toward food which determines its spiritual nature.
I do not remember if I ever told you the strange story of a fakir who
wondered a lot about this question of fasting. He was living near a desert
where there was a deep dry well. One day he caught, at random, some
monkeys, old and young ones and threw them all into the well.
For the first few days, he threw some food down, upon which he heard
violent fighting and shrieking. Then he stopped throwing food. For many
days, the shrieking and hissing went on. Then it stopped.
The fakir thought: ―They must all be dead.‖ Then he peered over the
edge of the well. No movement. No sound.
Tied a rope, he let himself down and saw a mass of dead bodies, partly
dismembered, savagely contorted. But on a stone which was jutting
slightly out of the wall, there sat a small monkey, his arms wrapped tightly
around his body, his eyes wide open staring at nothing.
The fakir seized hold of it and stroking its head, took it back to his hut.
As the days went by, the monkey began to show strange miraculous
powers. It could not speak, but it understood whatever the fakir said to it.
It could see into the past and into the future as well. When asked a
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 138

question about anyone the fakir pointed to, it would answer correctly in
dumb-show, as in a silent movie.
This may only be a parable. But it illustrates the great Truth that control
over the crude animal impulses helps to bring out the spiritual energies
dormant within us.

Fasting is hard because it involves our heavy body in its basic matter.
According to tradition, this basic matter is named carbon, and it is said that
the rays of the sun are imbedded in it. On the other hand, the geologists tell
us that the diamond, which is the symbol of light, is nothing other than
carbon. From where nobody knows, a tremendous pressure came upon it
and changed the arrangement of the atoms. The carbon began to glow and
became light. The whole of the Buddhist discipline speaks of the change
within us from matter to light. It is called the Path of the Diamond. For the
Christians it is the birth of Christ within the inner being. The mission of
Christ is to crush the heavy matter and fashion the inner being to His own
likeness which is light.
The conversion of the inner being can be described as an attempt to lift a
huge stone, to make it stand on end and then fall on the other side. At first
you have to put forth immense strength just to lift it. It rises very slowly.
Then the moment it is erect, it requires only a light ―touch and go‖ and
over it goes! So the toil on this side is compensated for by there being no
toil at all on the other side! This illustrates the conversion of the soul from
carbon to diamond! That was also the teaching of Yājnavalkya.1 He said:
―All your thirsting for knowledge and all your efforts are simply your
toiling along that path. The moment will come when this will be a ‗touch
and go‘ affair: a sudden change will take place. Then you will find
everything so easy; all that you were searching for outside of yourself was
there all the time!‖
This is called: know thyself. Do not be afraid of the darkness of the self
that you discover. It appears perhaps coal black! People become afraid.
Many drop out and few reach the end. There is the problem of infinite
within infinity. Words like ―so much, so many‖ do not exist. A very subtle

1 A ṛṣi who lived in Mithila, 8th century B.C.

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 139

point is that, when we say ―infinity‖ we think that it must be somewhere

where there is nothing finite, and infinity is beyond that!
When you are afraid, you no longer know how to think. You wander all
over the place saying: ―I give up all hope.‖ In the Brihadāraṇyaka Upanishad,
it is said:

―I surrender myself to you…

You open your own self to Me…
I have heard so many things
I don‘t want to hear any more.
I have seen so many things
I don‘t want to see any more.
I reveal Thyself, I reveal Thyself!‖

It is like the revelation of Christ.

Fear and harshness within us should dissolve, but alas, the personality is
so strong! It gets encrusted with so many things, all exterior things.
Imagine two children, a brother and a sister born within a year of each
other. I have seen many such pairs. They are so loving. They quarrel and
love, love and quarrel, but cannot live without each other. That is a simple
beginning of life, but then you begin to teach them many false things; ―to
behave correctly,‖ to do this and that, not through the influence of your
presence, but through words, dead words taken from books, and you lose
the main thing, the life-touch in knowledge!
That life-touch is the infinite patience one must have with people. This
patience is a mission in itself, it is God‘s own gift. Then you live in infinity
and nothing else matters. Remember that God is infinite, infinitely patient
with you.
Here is a verse from the Isha Upanishad:

―Beyond, there is all fullness,

Down here, it is all fullness,
And from that fullness
If you take away the fullness
Still the fullness bubbles
and spills on earth.‖
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 140

What a wonderful way of putting things; with what depth it was

written!
Shri Ramakrishna liked it. He said: ―Well, you go to draw water from
the ocean of life. The pitcher will float. It won‘t take in the water. You have
to hold it by the neck and thrust it down. At first you hear: ‗Glub, glub,
glub…‘ it wants to reject the water: ‗No, no, no, I won‘t, I won‘t.‘ Then it
becomes filled and stops. Only then it knows: an ocean inside, an ocean
outside!‖
We are also made like that, with a small ocean inside and a large ocean
outside. That is why we can go beyond sorrow. But how do we resist God!
Like the pitcher we say: ―No, no, no.‖ It is by force that the Master has to
put the pitcher down into the water. We don‘t allow the infinite ocean to
come in.
Shri Ramakrishna also said: ―The good Guru is a good physician; he
doesn‘t come and say: ‗Well, here is a prescription for you.‘ No, he brings
the medicine to you and thrusts it down your throat so that you are
purified from within. He does it with a harshness that is real love.‖

The heart is the cradle of love and love is not what sex is. Even a couple in
whom sex predominates will sometimes experience shining moments
when they know what love is. There is a quality of feeling which is finer by
far than the coarseness of sex. It is a very fine spiritual feeling. This feeling
blooms first in the heart of the woman. The future mother, before
procreation, or even at the very outset of the process of procreation, may be
as much intoxicated as the future father. They both experience a kind of
madness.
But when the child is born, and even before, when the mother feels the
child moving in her womb, her heart melts. But this is rarely shared by the
father. He may care so little that it means nothing to him if he runs after
another woman! This is the theme of innumerable stories written in the
East and in the West. The same thing everywhere!
So this is an important point for the woman to realize fully. By
remaining in prakriti, she, unlike the man, has full control over her own
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 141

manifestation. When the child is born, and she nurses it, well, she
experiences a taste of what ecstasy actually is.
Did I tell you the story of a girl I knew? This girl was living with a very
bad man. Once when I was passing through Calcutta she asked me to come
to her house. I went to meet her and saw that she wore the red sign of a
married woman.1 I said: ―How is this? I didn‘t know that you were
married!‖
―I belong to this household now,‖ she answered.
―But you didn‘t let me know about it.‖
―I was ashamed then, but now I am very happy!‖
After a year, she bore a child. As I was passing again through Calcutta, I
went to her house, but there I saw something horrible. The girl was lying
half unconscious on the floor and the child beside her was dead. Both had
been struck down by Asiatic cholera. She opened her eyes and said: ―Oh!
have you come, Rishida? Oh! bring back my child alive to me. He has been
dead for quite some time.‖ She was half mad with grief.
I said to her: ―No use grieving. Perhaps you will forget him and again
bear a child. But if you are true to your love, then cherish his memory. Just
make him your Guru and do conquer all this grief.‖ She listened to me, and
from then on, the dead child became her little Gopal.2 At last I went softly
away from her house.
Now she is a school-mistress in a Mofussil town. Her treasure is hidden
in a small box; it is an image of Gopal. And she has said to me: ―This is my
little child who came back to me and I see him in so many faces around me,
no matter whether they are boys or girls.‖ So her grief was turned into an
expansion of love.
Can you bring people to that stage, to pure love, to the inner centre of
the heart? Love illumines the heart, and above the heart there is another
centre located between the eyebrows from where all commands come; it is
pure wisdom. If you concentrate there you first get a luminosity which is
like a scorching ray which burns everything and burns all dirt out of you
and makes you as pure as light.
So this is the way to find the centre of the heart and to go higher to pure
wisdom. From this to that, and from that to this, such is the movement of
śakti. When you go still further, you find a complete circle with its
circumference nowhere. And that is the power of Brahma, or God, what-

1 A red line on her head where the hair is parted.

2 The pet name of the child Krishna.
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 142

ever you like to call it. You are searching for something which apparently
doesn‘t exist, but really that alone exists. You turn your back on it and so
you are harsh, cruel, selfish and greedy. You run after things like a beggar
when you should sit like an emperor on your throne and let things come to
you. Why should you care? From this comes the strange fact that in India a
sādhu, who is a wandering monk following a strict discipline, is given the
kingly title of Mahārāj!
The possibility of living in that way is not for everyone. But anyone who
has but a grain of faith can make a good beginning, and that faith will grow
and bring him to wisdom and Truth.
If that grain of faith is faith in the Truth from which the whole universe
springs, then it is sure to grow from a seed to a flower, because such is the
Law. We are just beginning to understand what Truth is, and we are still
groping in darkness. But if you go on insisting that That does not exist,
what can I say? Only this: ―I have faith in you and I know that you too are
not without it.‖ Faith is a very great thing. It is seeded in man and will one
day move mountains. I can only wait.
Faith grows from your own obedience, from your own discovery. It sits
quietly near you and doesn‘t say anything; it simply touches you. And you
will forget it and whine; then you have faith in your not having faith! It
appears as a constant nullity which comes again and again. But faith is
very patient. It just waits and gives you a little push! This faith is life and
knowledge. They are very near to one another: knowledge must be living
and life must be knowing. One cannot separate the two.
And you can learn this by a very simple experience of making your
mind a blank. Let it remain a blank for a time. Try to feel what blankness is
like. When you face blankness and enter into it, your whole body becomes
numb. Then you suddenly discover that you are nothing but so many
pounds of flesh lying there, with no feeling anywhere. Everything is numb.
But there, suddenly in the head, there is a light; this light grows and you
feel a pain. Phew!—an acute pain! It pierces your body. A minute later, it
disappears and you are quiet again. What is all this?
Was it only a possibility of sensation, in any part of the body, at any
time? But through this very possibility, we come to know that a light is
dormant in everybody and can suddenly awaken. Because it is so very
close to us, it is important to ―remember‖—as the mystics say. By this they
mean not the memory of events but the memory of the eternal Truth. Then
you will understand how a tiny seed expands. This is life.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 143

If you put a pebble here on the soil, it does not expand. If you bring
another pebble and still another one, the process continues and will
gradually form a heap of pebbles. This will not change by itself and will
remain the same for millions of years. Whereas if you put a grain of barley
in moist soil, it immediately begins to suck up the moisture and swells.
This is life!
But in man, a three dimensional action starts on account of his
awareness. It is this three dimensional existence that he can learn to
discover. From the outside nothing is noticeable. First there is the
unconscious or sleep state, the dream state and the waking state.
From the third state, one can reach the fourth one; then the totality of
states one, two, three and four means pure Existence (sat). The fifth will be
a fullness, a wholeness. Where is the proof? Well, just see, you will find the
proof in your own self. The Law of expansion immediately begins to work:
the whole becomes like a globe and in it there is an infinite stretch of space
dotted with points of light. You can count them by millions and millions.
And when it grows so big that you cannot swallow it, then it bursts!

People are very loath and unwilling to analyse themselves; perhaps in the
subconscious they have a fear that bad things will come out of it, — just as,
in writing an autobiography, one is full of self-praise and won‘t speak of
the ills that are deeply hidden. People are never honest in their diaries, but
they are honest in the mosaic pattern they are composing!
Self-analysis is most important. I might say that three-fourths of
Sāmkhya is self-analysing. It is said: ―Always go on analysing bits of your
life.‖
Of course self-analysis discloses the idea of having caused or done
wrongs—but speaking from the standpoint of Sāmkhya, it also means: ―I
am aloof, I am analysing myself without any judgement.‖ That is a very
great ideal which we have to reach. And I try to explain this to those who
come to me. I say: ―Look into yourself; there, deep in you, something gives
you a blow. It is like a flash of light. Let it look at all the impure things
which are hidden, but don‘t nourish them! If you have to kill them, kill
them mercilessly! Don‘t pamper yourself!‖
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 144

But I find it very hard.

Why do people pamper their own self? Here Sāmkhya gives a very clear
answer. It is because there is a sort of ―I-ness‖ in them, with a whitewashed
ego which should no more be recognized! That ―I-ness‖ clad with self-
pride says: ―Yes, yes, I know…‖ And that ruins you!
True, when one day, in a state of inner realization, you reach the
Purusha and look at yourself from there, you don‘t see whether you are
good or whether you are bad, because no duality appears. It is only when
you step down into your own being that prakriti and duality reappear.
In manifestation, one breaks into two in the realm of contradictions. But
if prakriti wafts you back into the Purusha, a word can express that state,
described in Sanskrit accordingly as: ―bi-unity,‖ two being one.

10

God or ―the Word,‖ as the Gospel says, becomes flesh. The Vedas say: ―The
Word is but a vibration in the Void.‖ So the Creation starts from the word:
Aum.
You blow a conch shell, you beat a drum. Have you ever seen a snake-
charmer? He holds a small revolving drum, giving two very quick beats:
creation—destruction! And so long as it continues the snake dances!
Most people feel these two beats in themselves. One this way, one that
way; one positive, one negative. ―How can we bring them together?‖ they
will ask. Only a few may have heard that two beats, like two strings, can
vibrate faster and faster, until finally there is only one humming!
Think also of the two dolphins always sporting together! They come
together, sport and play, faster and faster. Then they melt away and there
is nothing more!
There also, we can say that Purush and Prakriti clasp each other in a
tight embrace and disappear in sleep. In the depth of sleep what are
Purusha and Prakriti? The Void contains both of them: This and That.
Around any word, deed, work, imagery, feeling, there is always an
oscillation which makes you undecided about what to do, what to think.
We doubt. Am I to go this way? But at the same time I wish to go that way.
This oscillation is in the very nature of prakriti; we cannot avoid it. It is the
play of Creation!
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 145

All that constant going and coming remains within you as the source
from which you speak. You will find out, by and by, that you are always
seeing new things, saying new things, that you are never repeating
anything. But at the same time, it is always the same thing that you are
speaking of but in so many different ways! Such is the mystery of Creation.
There is a simile written in Sanskrit which says: ―I have a Truth, just like
a plum in the palm of my hand. Do you want a taste of it? Here, I give you
a bite! A tiny bit of knowledge has as tremendous power as a tiny drop of
venom.‖
What power is it? The power of Truth!

11

Yes, yoga is union, the union of the individual with the universal. It is the
universal containing the individual. Likewise, a spark has a centre from
which it originates but it cannot contain itself within itself. It simply
expands, this way and that way, in every direction—until it becomes a
globe. Then polarity exists: a dark globe and a white globe existing
together, intermingling, held one within the other by the same axis.
When we are successful, we are also bound to have some suffering and
when we are suffering, we are also bound to enjoy some success. But
gradually these impressions become very thin, and finally they melt. So
one can say: nothing really exists, which also means everything exists.
At the beginning of the search, we revolt against that process, but as
long as we revolt we cannot feel anything. What is it that rebels? Only the
material being, the life force, the mental force, the mental constructions, all
that we have been taught to think from our childhood. Nobody is let alone
to grow like a tree. It is as if one tree said to another tree: ―Grow just like
me!‖
When this period of revolt subsides, then you understand that there is
but one existence. There is one God, one matter, one Purusha, one Prakriti,
but it takes a long time to discover these dimensions.
We must be very alert, constantly watching the tiniest movement within
ourselves. The way to go is very long, but suddenly everything becomes so
unimaginably quick within us that one cannot even believe it. Nothing
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 146

escapes you. There is great compensation for all the trouble you have
taken!
Here we have a mathematical problem to consider. In the wholeness of
pure Existence, which appears to us like a globe dotted with millions of
sparks of light, one here, one there, another here and further on — how
many can you count? You don‘t know. But immediately when you become
very fine — one spark among them — you feel a kinship with the others
and a tremendous energy-power within you. Then all things around you
evaporate into pure light and there is only one will, God‘s will: ―Let there
be light, and there was light.‖
When the supreme knowledge has been perceived, there is the wish to
go on, but at the same time you see absolutely no difference between going
on or coming back. The same organism is to be found here and there,
always propelling towards the Cosmos. When you come back to people
who understand nothing, you are gentle with them and you bear with
them. I have often seen that it takes thirty years to reach a soul! Many
devotees have a kind of fascination, come again and again, only to go away
and come again, and not understand. Then one day, suddenly, they say:
―Oh! now I know!‖ And after that they disappear because their quest is
finished!
Our common pilgrimage toward the beyond is endless. The Void, being
the cradle of birth and death, in itself means creation. It includes complete
fullness and, at the same time, total solitude. It is freedom in the true sense
of the word! You are free to live, free to die, free to experience pain and
pleasure. All things come to you as to a child. You are taken to a
wonderland where things are shown to you.
It is like an alternating rhythm with a definite strata continually moving,
continually living, in which death is freedom. The pilgrimage toward the
inner being binds us to speak about death or to have it constantly in the
background of our thoughts.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 147

12

Jagannath in Puri is made of neemwood. The log of wood from which the
first images were made came floating on the ocean. The priests got hold of
the log and turned it into the images which are worshipped in the big
Temple of Puri. They are hideous. Every twelve years, they must be
renewed and the old ones burned.
Just before the end of the prescribed time, the priests and the carpenters
are busy reconstructing the new images behind the main altar, hidden from
the public eye. When the day of installation comes, the head priest has his
eyes blindfolded seven times, according to a sacred measure from the
Vedas, and is ushered into the dark room where the main image of
Jagannath, which is black, representing the Void, Vishnu and the sky is
kept.
In its centre, there is a closed, hidden cavity. The priest opens its small
door and withdraws something from it. Nobody knows what it is, not even
himself. He does not see it. He only feels it. He must not speak about it.
This ―something‖ is Brahma-the-Creator turned into something palpable
called brahmavastu. It is said that the priest who transfers the brahmavastu,
the secret heart of the old statue, into the new one must die within three
years from that very day. He is generally very old, no longer in charge of
the Temple. He lives in retirement, waiting patiently for his end. The newly
elected priest is doomed to the same functions, as well as to die within the
prescribed time. It has always been so and continue to be so.
Outside, there is a great gathering because it is the day of the ―new
incarnation of the Lord,‖ which will not recur for the next twelve years.
Twelve is the number which represents the sun, its course and the whole
pattern of the universe. In Vedic times, the year was the unit of time, the
seasons of life following the track of twelve months, as well as plants,
flowers and fruits.
The Temple of Puri is open to all except to foreigners. There is no
distinction of castes. On one special day in the year, very primitive people
who live in the heart of Orissa forests come to the Temple. They call to the
god: ―Jagannath, thou art our friend, our kinsman.‖ They become mad,
exuberant, embrace the image. The priests say: ―Well, we got ‗This‘ from
you primitive people!‖
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 148

When you go to Jagannath, you are always prepared to make a vow, to

sacrifice something dear to the god, something that you love best of what
you are accustomed to eat. You have a last taste of it, then you offer it to
the god. After that, back at home, it should never be eaten again.
Food is sacrificed because food is life. One needs one‘s daily food. At the
same time, it is a close and constant reminded of one‘s dedication to the
god.

13

The Golden Rule is : minimize your activity, dive deep within yourself;
then when you are firmly established in that steadiness, start working.
Your work will then be like a flowering of what comes from your depth.
All around there are things, but the values we put on them are simply
fictitious. What is valuable for you is not valuable for me. Let the young
have their own way. But you — you remain free. But don‘t show that you
are free. People might kill you. They would crucify you, like they did
Christ.
The people who come to you, are they free? No; and do they wish to be
free? If you give them freedom, they will not understand it. You have to
wait for a long long time. But certainly, the awakening will some day come
from within.
Gods and goddesses are the bond between religion and art. They are
specimens of art, expressions in freedom but at the same time submitted to
many rules dictated by tradition.
Tagore, who was a Brahmo,1 could not bow to any image, but he wrote
many hymns and created many forms of worship. In his School of Arts at
Shantiniketan, there was a festival of the earth, trees, water, seasons, a real
worship of prakriti in a primitive way, with music, dances and acting. If
you come to such primitiveness, you get Truth, because Truth is naked.
So it is a naked stone which represents Shiva, the best representation of
all! Jagannath in Puri is the second best because he is hideous and only an
idea. So you are not tied to a beautiful thing. It is just an aspect of Truth. In
itself, Truth is neither ugly nor beautiful; it is simply what it is. In that way,

1 The name of a religious group with a unitarian tendency, founded in 1828 and very
influential, especially in Bengal.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 149

throwing away all things, you come to the Void, to the nudity without
form. You reach Truth and then laugh or smile, you laugh when alone and
you smile with other. They won‘t understand you, but you understand
them quite well and love them.

14

Well, I am recognized by the laymen, but very much less by the paṇḍits.1
Freedom is a word that troubles them. They simply won‘t understand.
They frown upon the idea of freedom. They say: ―What you express is not
written in the books. Tell us what you stand for? If you are a teacher, if you
have received a doctor‘s degree from the University, then what is it for?‖
Others ask: ―According to what are you teaching?‖
I am teaching according to Truth!
Yes, I am teaching according to what I feel, and I find the same attitude
expressed in some very ancient texts. The old teachers were quite free.
Lately, I was revising Patanjali2 without referring to the well known
Commentaries. I took the Aphorisms one by one, and meditated upon each
one. This very day, I made a strange discovery. I discovered that I have
always felt as I feel now, but I did not see it because the commentators
stood like a wall in front of me. I could not get past them. Only this
morning I found a peculiar sūtra echoing this: ―if the Purusha and Prakriti
are both crystal pure, this is solitude and freedom or living alone.‖ What is
that but a spiritual existence in which Purusha and Prakriti are one?
There Purusha is taken as an ideal eternally pure, and prakriti, as the
power of Purusha, is bound to come down into matter to create. When this
is done, she goes up again. In coming down she creates out of herself a
darkness, the matrix in which every possibility takes the form of a seed.
When the seed sprouts, a tiny plant will grow into a tree which, in sacred
texts, is called ―the tree of Brahma.‖ In other parts of the world, the same
tree is called ―the tree of life.‖ In India, the tree of Brahma is pictured as the
aśvattha tree (banyan), which grows upside down with fine roots going up
into the sky and heavy roots plunging down into the earth. That tree is
partly in the sky and partly in the earth. That‘s life!

1 A learned man, knowing the sacred texts.

2 Author of the Yoga-Sutras, renowned for his Aphorisms. 2nd Century B. C.
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 150

Teaching according to Truth is sometimes disturbing people in their

thoughts. Well, I will tell you a story about Shri Ramakrishna. You know
that the idea of rebirth is basic in Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism.
Everyone speaks of rebirth. Now somebody asked Shri Ramakrishna, while
he was the guest in a friend‘s house: ―What is your opinion about rebirth?‖
―I don‘t know,‖ he answered. ―Since the ṛṣis have spoken about it, it
might be true.‖
―Then you don‘t believe in it?‖
―I don‘t know.‖
―Well, men will have a poor opinion of you if you do not believe in
rebirth.‖ Then Shri Ramakrishna flared up: ―What do I care for publicity? I
only speak of what I know.‖
The same question was put to Ma Anandamayee. She answered: ―It is
there if you believe in it. It is not there if you don‘t believe in it.‖
Such freedom is not bound to any dogma. Do the followers of Shri
Ramakrishna, of Ma Anandamayee realize such freedom? No, they don‘t
look up to their Master but down at their books. The books are no doubt of
great help because they have been written by very great people. But
whenever you speak, you spoil the thought; whenever you think, you spoil
the intuition; whenever you try to be intuitive, you kill your perception. So
remain nude in the Void. Then things will come to you.
At one Kumbha Mela,1 a saint was crying and praying aloud the whole
day: ―O Father, let us all become your children!‖ What a great prayer!
Really we are all children of light and love —but we quarrel and fight, and
yet that great prayer is Christian, Hindu, Buddhist, Jain, Moslem at heart.
We discover things little by little.
And my present philosophy is that there is never an end to the quest. It
is always an exploration and when I am at the end of what I thought it is
not the end all! I see a light ahead in the beyond! You come then to the
theory of expansion into the universe.
Never say that there is an end. Go, go on! If you say: ―There is an end,‖
you become self-satisfied. Don‘t let yourself be closed in by churches and
dogmas. Even meditation can create a dogma of its own.
One day Shri Ramakrishna gave a fine demonstration to ―M.‖2 of how
he was breaking dogmas. They were both seated with eyes closed medi-

1 A great religious gathering of wandering monks and ascetics held every three years,
by rotation in Hardwar, Allahabad, Ujjain and Nasik.
2 Mahendra Nath Gupta, one of his faithful followers.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 151

tating. ―M.‖ on the floor, Shri Ramakrishna on his bed with the mosquito
net down. After a few minutes, Shri Ramakrishna came out from behind
the net and said: ―Well, I didn‘t like that way of meditating. Can I see God
only in this way and not in another way, first closing and then opening my
eyes?‖
Some years ago, I heard … say: ―I never close my eyes in meditation.‖
Then I thought: ―This is another dogma. Why not meditate with closed
eyes as well as with open eyes?‖
All bondages, whatever they are, imprison our real nature. Then I
remembered the story of a sage, Ashṭāvakra, who was ―bent in eight parts
of his limbs.‖ He was a cripple. He became a cripple while he was in his
mother‘s womb. One day his father was reciting the Vedas before his wife.
The unborn child said: ―Father, you are not reciting quite correctly.‖ Well,
the father took it very much to heart and said aloud: ―You fool, even before
being born, you come to teach me! Remain as crooked as you are now in
your mother‘s womb!‖ The child was born that way, but he became a great
saint. And he taught: ―This is your bondage that you are trying to get a
samādhi!1 Wherever your mind goes there is samādhi for you.‖
Well, there is samādhi thus and so, there is samādhi lying, there is
samādhi sitting, there is samādhi standing, there is samādhi working. Then
I understood why the Bhagavad Gītā speaks of a steady wisdom. There can
be a samādhi when speaking, roaming about, and doing things, as well as
remaining quiet. One can move, live and have one‘s own being in God.
Such samādhi is an active contemplation.
When I got back to my ashram years ago, after I had finished my
university courses, something strange came upon me and stayed with me
for three days and three nights. I was as if dreaming, a ―dream-thing.‖ One
of the elders saw that strangeness in my eyes and reported it to the Guru.
He looked intently at me and said: ―You are not yourself.‖
―I don‘t know.‖
He said to somebody: ―Well, he has come back from his studies, but I
think that he will be escaping me, he has such a look and moves about as if
in a dream. What use shall I have of him?‖
I heard about it and thought: ―Well, he does not understand me.‖ The
same night I went to him and asked him: ―If I trust you, shall I be saved?
Can you guarantee that?‖

1 The state of ecstasy, of union with the Divine.

 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 152

He spoke very softly to me: ―Well, my boy, as you have dedicated

everything to me, so I dedicate everything to you, this ashram, this whole
institution!‖
Of course I melted before those words. I said: ―I shall never betray you,
but I tell you that the moment I am told to do things which are not in our
dedication, I won‘t remain in your ashram.‖ Twelve years passed. I loved
him. He loved me but finally I was simply flooded within myself by many
things that I could not follow. My Guru was trapped on all sides. He knew
it. The prakriti was running down. One day, he said to me: ―I know your
mind. You are working hard for me but you wish to be free.‖
He blessed me and said: ―I give you full freedom. I know that you are
not going to bow down to anyone. I make you free.‖
But disciples who don‘t want to be free and they are many, what about
them?
That sādhu you have met here in Calcutta, with a white beard, is now at
the head of the whole ashram with its many branches in every district of
Bengal. He is trapped too and suffers from his entanglement. He is
reigning but not ruling any more. So, of the thousand people around him
there are perhaps only a few souls who are free. Does he recognize them?

15

A question is often asked: ―Can we go beyond the veil which hides the face
of Truth?‖ Yes, we can. But what allows us to come back remains secret.
There is a secret light, a secret music, and a secret touch, vision,
audition, and a tactile sensation which resounds and vibrates. But one must
be very well trained to become aware of it, otherwise it is just an outside
impression. A long discipline is required to become finer and lighter, in
order to be more and more sensitive to oneself. What I call eating, seeing,
hearing, thinking, are all experiences that should be carefully watched. It
should be done through your awareness. But so many texts, opinions and
quarrels, have been piled upon this fact that it has hidden itself.
If you are daring enough to look at what is now you will discover that
time means nothing. At this very moment you can leap across infinite
stretches. Carry on! The long preparation gone through will bring you to a
state of communion between spirit and mater, a wonderful idea which is
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 153

behind the idea of consecrated food (prasāda) shared between God and the
devotee. It will bring you to the words of Christ offering his flesh and his
blood and saying, ―This is the bread you are eating, and this is the wine
you are drinking. You are eating my body.‖
To bring the secret back to light you must first of all realize, deep within
yourself, that nobody is going to help you. You alone can make the
pilgrimage towards the inner being. You must feel that you are blessed to
have been chosen to do it. You walk alone and nobody will look at you.
The Kaṭha Upanishad says so.
We can help others just a little, in a very indirect way, by expressing
such things as: don‘t do that, don‘t hurt others, don‘t steal, don‘t tell a lie.
So just be conscious of that and become more and more sensitive about it. It
makes the teacher very humble. All the work on self-observation is only to
become sensitive, nothing else.

16

There is a kind of chemical process going on within us, without our

knowing it, when our mind meets a new facet of knowledge. We think: ―I
have grasped the subject.‖
Yet it creates a state of confusion in your mind when you discover that
you cannot express it. It lies dormant for a long time within you, then
suddenly you stumble on it and a new world opens up for you; though you
are in the same darkness on other planes. For a second, it is like the face of
God eluding you! You run after it. You can‘t catch hold of it. You get
intoxicated. Then it is your turn to play hide and seek with God. It is like
different colours blending and reflecting one another and forming
something which passes all understanding and surpasses feeling. Yet it is
there.
As for that, there is a good story. When Chaitanya1 travelled South, he
discovered a book written several centuries earlier which recounted the life
of a saint whose name was Vilwamangala.
The story runs something like this:

1 A Bengali poet and reformer of great renown (1485-1527 A. D.).

 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 154

In his youth, he had loved a prostitute so much that when he was called
to his father‘s funeral ceremony, he said to the priest: ―Come on, finish
your job as quickly as you can; I have an engagement elsewhere!‖
Hearing that, the people around him said: ―What a mad fellow, what a
fool!‖ As soon as the ceremony ended, he rushed away and ran as far as the
shore of the river he had to cross. It was a stormy night and the waves were
running high. There was no ferry-man, no boat, nothing. Suddenly he saw
something floating on the water. He clasped it and paddling with his feet
swam across the river. Again he ran and ran until he reached the
prostitute‘s house. There he saw a rope hanging from her balcony. He
grasped it and climbed up and reached her room through the window.
―How is this,‖ said the woman quite surprised, ―You at this unearthly
hour! What brought you here?‖
―But you called me,‖ he said.
―Did I call you? How did you cross the river? It must be swollen by
now.‖
―Yes, but there was a boat.‖
She exclaimed: ―But you stink horribly. What have you done?‖ There
were worms and maggots all over him.
He said pathetically: ―Well, I suppose the boat must have been a corpse
in the river.‖
―Go away, go away,‖ shouted the woman.
―No, I will not,‖ said the man, ―because you called me. You even
dropped a rope for me from your balcony.‖
―Did I indeed? Let me see!‖
They both went outside and saw not a rope hanging from the balcony
but a dead snake, with its head stuck in a hole. It must have struggled hard
to free itself but once its head was caught, it could not slip back. So the
dead serpent had been taken for a rope!
The woman was crying. ―You are mad,‖ she said, ―a fool to run after a
prostitute like me! With such tremendous love within you, you could have
found Krishna in your heart in a moment!‖
The man was shaken. ―Is it so,‖ he said, ―is it true?‖ Suddenly his eyes
opened. He prostrated himself before the woman and said: ―Well, you are
my Guru! You have shown me the light! I have been blind for so many
years…‖ and he turned away.
He really became mad, running after Krishna: ―Where is Krishna?
Where is my Krishna?‖ For days and days, he ate next to nothing; he kept
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 155

running about, pining for Krishna. Then, one day, he met a young cowherd
boy of dark blue complexion who milked a cupful of milk for him.
―Where have you come from?‖ asked the man. ―Don‘t disturb me. I am
searching for Krishna. I am living with Krishna in my heart.‖
―But you called me,‖ said the boy, ―so I came. You should drink this
milk, it is for you.‖
The man could not resist. He drank the milk. The boy appeared again
the next day, giving him more milk, and so it went on for several days.
Then suddenly it occurred to the man: ―But I am getting attached to this
boy! I don‘t think of Krishna any more, I am constantly thinking: Will that
boy come again? What am I doing?‖
So he said to the boy: ―Don‘t come back again to me!‖ But the boy said:
―I must come! You have called me. Promise me not to go mad again. Live,
come to grips once more with life.‖
―I can‘t do that,‖ said the man. ―I must know Krishna!‖
―Then why do you run after me?‖ asked the boy.
Somehow the man was fascinated. He said: ―Come here! Let me touch
you!‖ And suddenly he grabbed hold of the boy from behind: ―I love you,‖
he said, ―you are my Krishna! You can‘t deceive me. You are in my heart!
What can I do?‖
―Let me go!‖ said the boy.
―I have got hold of you, I will not let you go. Can you escape from my
heart?‖
―Yes, I am Krishna,‖ said the boy revealing himself. ―I can‘t go from
your heart, neither can you from mine! We are forever together. I am now
your slave!‖
Sometimes it is difficult to reach God! At the end everything becomes
simple as love dawns in the heart. But then love must be without
attachment. It is a reciprocal self-giving. You give to the Lord and the Lord
gives to you. Through love you find the way you could not find through
knowledge.

17

Our ―freedom‖ lies in having accepted the fact that everything is recorded
somewhere and that the present we are living now is a kind of luminous
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 156

vigilance which connects our inward life to our outer life with a feeling,
which is coming from above. But it is also a feeling deeply rooted in us. It is
not that I don‘t know anything about it: I know that although on the one
hand I am free, on the other hand, I am bound by everything. And when I
express it in words, it adds up to a flat contradiction!
Inwardly it is not so. I view the same existence through different moods.
For instance, imagine that you are looking at a table. A table has usually
four legs, but if you look at it from a certain angle, it appears to have only
three legs. If you stand above it, it appears to have no legs at all! All these
differences are only due to our shortsightedness. At a glance we cannot see
the whole of existence! For we either taste mystery, mysticism, fulfilment
or else despair, fear and hate. Life is shrewd in every way!
It remains our privilege to be able to transcend all things. Such
transcendence does not mean negation; it means accepting all things as
they are but not caring about them not being attached to them. Then,
another dimension is reached. That dimension is pure joy. It is bliss like the
smile of a child. How do you explain a child‘s smile? It expresses the
Ananda-Brahma which is deep within you. A child can be very naughty;
one moment he smiles, the next moment he makes an ugly face! In such a
moment you experience life as it is!
At the close of your life, after a full existence of suffering with happy
and sad days—you feel at the end that it all comes to nothing. Who am I to
face God? What is it all about? Just enter into your ownself and everything
goes back into order!
One day I was holding a glass ball in my hand. Suddenly, I don‘t know
why, I threw it on to a stone. It broke into many parts. I picked up two
parts and saw that they fitted quite well; then I hunted for the other parts.
They also fitted. ―Strange,‖ I thought, ―if I put these parts together, they
become a perfect globe, otherwise they will be lying scattered!‖ This has
been a great teaching in my whole life. I thought: ―I shall accept everything
as parts of a whole. I shall not make them fit together according to my plan,
but allow them to fit together. That might have to do with a child, with a
woman, with a flower, or even a god incarnate.‖ Then I felt a great peace
within myself. I could forgive others.
Now you might ask: ―What was that great force which made you throw
the ball against a stone?‖ I don‘t know. Within myself there was a sort of
dialogue going on. The ball was asking: ―Are you going to crush me into
pieces? Are you then going to bring all the broken pieces together? You are
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 157

very extravagant!‖ I was thinking: ―Am I really extravagant? Well, why not
greet everybody and whatever happens with a smile? It is worth trying!‖
There are some Hindi verses which the sages have been repeating for a
long time:
―Take joy in everybody,
sit with everybody,
take the name of everybody.
Whatever is heard,
said or done,
keep to your task,
don‘t move an inch from it.‖
(Tulsidas)

I well know that people are not equal to that task. They will not go the
whole day with me. They get quickly tired — after two hours, two days or
two years — because they don‘t belong to infinity. Infinity is freedom.
Because I am free I can toil. But don‘t let them see it. They would not
understand anyway.
But I am afraid that freedom cannot be reached in one lifetime. It is a
long task. As you pass on, vista after vista rises before you; then in all
humility you drop on your knees and say: ―I surrender, I surrender!‖
There is no end before you. I can‘t help you more than I do. Yes,
sometimes you come to me and offer me some sweet candy. I can suck it. I
have pleasure in it, but that is all! Whereas death is without end, and after
death, it is again without end. So from death on, a new dimension starts.
Very true! I see it like this: I have been coming up to a certain point
which is nearing death. Then I see that whatever I have been doing is just
like a big rehearsal. What was at the extreme bottom comes now to the top
and what was at the top is now coming down. And the meeting point is the
―I.‖ I am the meeting point.
And that ―I‖, if you are speaking of death, goes down and melts into the
ocean like pure water into the waves. But again this pure water is changed
into vapour and rises in the form of clouds, to return like rain to the ocean.
Similarly, every day before our eyes, the sun is going up and going down.
The worshippers of the sun are fully identified with it. They say: ―Like the
sun, I shall disappear; like the sun I shall come again, but not the same!‖
That brings us to the revolving movements of the sun: solstice, equinox
and so on. You can feel that beautiful spiral movement deep within you.
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 158

Within that process, I am quiet and calm. I know I have had my share of
life, with enjoyments and difficulties and that‘s all. Life is all in parts, but
there are so many ―I‘s:‖ I am this man, this woman, that flower — all these
things I am! Here is a rogue, a saint, and there an incarnation of a god! So
many ―I‘s‖ all around, this way, that way! Well, it means self-multiplying.
When God said: ―Go, and multiply yourself,‖ He uttered a great creative
Truth.
We are trying to multiply others and to multiple ourselves. Why do I
preach? Because I want to multiply. Why do I speak? Because my dogma is
‗the only Truth,‘ not yours! So everything becomes a hotch-potch and that
is why we have such a load of news every morning in the newspapers!

18

From whence does it come that I can suddenly grasp what goes on within
myself? It is a mystery.
It might be an entirely new element coming from some other plane
unknown to me. Nobody can help me in this. Nobody knows anything
about it! Therefore I am struck down. Our thinking always clings to
something that we know, even if we feel we should be ready to meet the
unknown. But it eludes me. I don‘t know what it is.
During a moment of concentration, all that I have accumulated drops
away: book knowledge, teachings of the different schools and Masters I
have met. Only what I am at that very moment exists: I am facing a naked
Truth.
Here in a flash, is the difference between knowledge and Truth. It
catches you up, says the Kena Upanishad, with a sublime feeling. It is the
instant when the son of man becomes the Son of God.
But the mystery remains between the known and the unknown. Don‘t
try to compel the unknown to translate itself into the known. It would only
mean a repetition of what has already been. It would mean no progress.
In speaking of eternity, I have already told you about the linear
movement going up and coming down and about the circular movement,
like that of two dolphins, turning around each other. The two movements
are on the same level of consciousness. How can they become only one
spiral movement, like the one we see on a conch-shell? When the mud on
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 159

the potter‘s wheel revolves on a spindle, that is, when the potter has placed
a stick in the centre of the wheel, then the mud rises. And the potter has
only to shape the mud to make a pitcher out of it.
Similarly śakti in itself is the power that climbs up toward the Absolute.
At the same time, it is also the spindle around which the inner movement
of our search and the mechanical circular movement of our life, are moved.
It is a mystic realization.
But be very careful! You should not keep on moving in a circle! See to it
that the thread of your inner movement, like a screw, comes closer and
closer and, finally, like a rocket, shoots beyond! Here Patanjali comes to our
aid in speaking of the three different movements along the way of our
search: ―Have a resolute will to withdraw from the mechanical movements
of your life; allow no compromise with anything or with any dogma; break
progressively away toward inner withdrawal. But be very patient.‖

19

Everyone in his own way tries to understand the other, but it rarely
happens! This is quite natural because there is such a variety of human
beings. It makes you want to smile at them all as at so many children
around you. You can love them all!
As they grow, they all want you to fit in with their wishes, to be like this
or like that, just as I, myself, am wishing them to be like me! This is because
God created man in His own image! That is God‘s labour! He can only
create in His own image, wishing everyone to become God.
The very word ―God‖ includes complete freedom. God is free. His
creation is a free act. God has not been compelled to create. This creation is
a play of power unfolding itself in a natural way, just as the tree produces
fruit.
Many come forward but only a few are really seeking, eager to know
what power is. Although everyone is made in the image of God, the time is
not ripe for everyone. One is perhaps only a small child within himself,
another is a boy, another a grown-up man, another a god! Time is very
important. You will find this mentioned repeatedly in the Bhāgavataṃ,1
where it is said: ―The first creative impulse must be translated into time.‖ A

1 A sacred Book containing 332 chapters consisting of 18,000 verses.

 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 160

beautiful image expresses it further: ―Time when flowing is called Kāla,‖

meaning a succession of things. Yes, new things are constantly added to
old things. But we don‘t want old things any more! We want only new
things! Rabindranath Tagore once said, with a smile: ―Well, let us say that
they are new, but it is only the old things coming again and again, and you
think they are new! They are the oldest things returning!‖
That is time: a constant succession, looked upon as changes, flowing into
infinity; then all changes are simply absorbed into the Void, which is also
called the Great Kāla.
How does time flow into space? There is a moment when time and
space become one because they are the same thing on two different levels.
In a flash, time becomes space. But the constant coming out, going in,
coming in, going out, is time.
When we have an intuition of what is beyond it starts with time; this
intuition must be translated into pure space. It is Einstein who said that
time and space are one. He used a single word ‗time-space.‘ This means
that we are in fact thinking in terms of space.
This particular house, a finished product, occupies a definite space, but
how long did it take to be built up and to grow? This is where time comes
in. As it is being built it passes through many processes.
What is a process? It is a succession of movements. It is a reality, but
what is this reality? Is it one or many things together? Well, when we look
at a tree, we see one thing, but at the same time we see the trunk, the
branches, the leaves, the veins in the leaves and so on. It is the same with a
house when it is built up. It is one and also many things together.
Here the philosophy of the Void comes in and says: ―Such is the Void
that is beyond your understanding! You see the development of the
movement and at the same time go beyond that!‖ This is mysticism and
love. Suppose two loving people are embracing each other. In this tiniest
moment, the whole universe vanishes. They feel eternity. This moment
contains the eternity which is space — this eternity is either a linear
movement going up, coming down, or a circular movement like that of the
two dolphins turning around each other.
In our age of technology, we are concerned only with movements and
the succession of movements. We have gone to the moon, we are trying to
reach far away planets, one day we shall go to the sun! But in a single
moment of consciousness, we can have the whole universe within us. What
do you say to that? The universe is only a point of space that contains
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 161

eternity. Here space and time are combined; space is consciousness, Shiva,
while time is a succession of movements, śakti. We can say that India stands
for Shiva, with closed eyes, and the West for śakti, with so many things
going on. They are not two different existences, but two facets of the same
power. There is an image of śakti given in the Tantras showing Kālī, the
goddess of time, crushing the whole universe into a pulp and swallowing
it. It goes into her belly, which becomes a great power with millions of
regrets. Remember always that Kālī is time!
Think of the tremendous śakti you have within you. But it must be
without any trace of ego. Look at a cupful of milk. The milk is
homogeneous throughout. In scientific terms it would be called the
colloidal state. Your power likewise must be pure and homogeneous.
If you put citric acid into the milk, it breaks up into millions of tiny little
particles. It has been changed into the crystalloid state. If there are traces of
ego in your self, millions of dots of ego are likewise going to spread all
over. What was one whole gets broken into tiny little particles—although
these colloidal and crystalloid states are basically the same milk.
If you have the whole universe within you, you are the pure power of
śakti. If you see the whole universe covered with so many dots, with so
many particles — which are the ego — the power of śakti becomes the three
thousand millions of Hindu gods and all the Gurus of India!
Now, let us see what the ṛṣis say in the Atharvaveda1: ―Look at all these
people on earth. They are all Shiva walking on earth!‖ Similarly I would
say: ―Every Christian walking on earth is Christ, every Mahommedan, the
Prophet‖— even if I am stabbed for uttering such a blasphemy! I also say:
―Everybody on earth is Brahma walking on two legs!‖ Nowadays in the
villages, peasants will say, pointing to one of them: ―Look at this little
Brahma! Look at him, he is really trapped! He has set his foot on the trap of
the five elements, and now, look, he is wailing!‖ May be it is only humour,
perhaps rather cruel!

20

The notion of space is always difficult to grasp. It leads us to life and also
death. I learned this when I was quite young. My father and my mother

1 The Fourth Veda.

 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 162

would rise very early in the morning, take their baths and sit side by side
before a picture of their Guru who, later on, became also my Guru. And
they would meditate for a long time. We had a small house; when the
curtain was drawn back, I would stare at them from my bed. They sat
motionless, so still! That stillness made me full of awe. And I thought:
―There must be something in that stillness.‖ So, after a while, I began to
imitate them and I felt: ―Oh! so this is what they have!‖ It was Life
connected with the life all around me.
And there is another thing related to death, which also came very
naturally to me when I was a boy of ten. A few of my school friends and I
used to go and bathe in the river. The river was dry in the summer. There
was only a thin stream with a strong undercurrent, which people avoided
when they crossed it. One day, when we were playing there, splashing in
the water, I suddenly saw a whirlpool and heard the boys shouting: ―Come
back, come back!‖ As I was swiftly carried downstream, I said to myself:
―How is this? I was with them and now I am going away from them.‖
Suddenly, I remembered that there was an undercurrent somewhere,
and I felt that I was caught in it. Then, where was I drifting to? Toward
what? I had read in books that all rivers run into the sea. ―So, I am going to
the sea.‖ I thought: ―And what is waiting for me there? Nothing but water.
So this is death approaching. Yes, death.‖ I closed my eyes and thought: ―I
will float on.‖
I very often use these words: ―Float on‖ — when speaking with people.
That was my first feeling of consciously floating on: ―I float on, I float on.‖
With closed eyes, I saw nothing. Suddenly, my head bumped against
something. I had simply crossed the current and come to the opposite
shore. My head had struck the steps that came down into the river. I let
down my legs and felt ground under my feet… ―Well, that was death and
this is life!‖
I told no one about what had taken place, but it surely gave me an inner
illumination and a sort of security. I thought: ―Everywhere and in
everything, I shall be floating on, and one day I shall come to the vast
ocean.‖ This is the whole of life, and from this you come to understand the
words written in the Scriptures: ―I am Shiva! I have conquered death…‖
When, later on, I heard these words uttered by worshippers of Shiva,
what did they convey to me? First, a feeling and knowledge of the infinite.
You have to bind the two together. Everywhere you will see that first the
bud appears and then the fruit. But in the case of gourds and pumpkins,
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 163

you will see that the fruit appears first, a tiny fruit and then the flower
opens on its top. If God‘s feeling comes to you first, then His aura of
knowledge is a splash of wisdom! Do you then still want books?
Who chose it to be that way? The free will of God. Why the bud first and
then the fruit? Why not the fruit first and then the flower? I plucked a tiny
pumpkin and dissected it with a knife. I found very tiny seeds nestling
inside it, preparing for future plants. And so it goes on and on. Life runs
smoothly in its own fashion. The mind alone wants to know more, and still
more, of the things which separate what feeling is from what knowledge is.
Let the mind rest a while. Let it sleep and quiet itself, otherwise there is no
chance of consciousness. People will learn this by and by and consciously
experiment with life. No hurry and no worry. It should just be like the
coming to bloom of a flower.

21

The notion of matter and anti-matter is also a difficult concept to grasp

though it refers to space. Formerly we knew of electrons with a negative
charge, protons with a positive charge, and neutrons with no charge at all,
as the constituents of an atom, which is the ultimate particle of matter as
commonly understood. Now we hear about a host of mystery particles
called anti-electrons, anti-protons, anti-neutrons, mesons, etc., whose
existence has been proved experimentally. These mystery particles are the
basis of the concept of anti-matter.
The interesting thing about the concept of anti-matter is that it destroys
the commonly accepted idea of ―empty space.‖ It was found that apart
from the ordinary electrons which rotate around the atomic nucleus, there
is an incalculable number of ―extraordinary‖ electrons distributed
throughout the so-called empty space, which for long escaped detection by
any experimental observation. The empty space really is an ocean packed
to capacity with extraordinary electrons, only a few of which come out in
an overflow from this ocean.
This ocean surrounds us on all sides and extends to infinity in all
directions. This is the ocean of anti-matter composed of electrons with a
negative mass. These are formed not out of nothing, but at the expense of
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 164

the energy spent in their formation, according to Einstein‘s laws of

equivalence of mass and energy.
So, in the final analysis, the notion of mass disappears and we are left
with the conclusion that matter, as well as anti-matter, is after all nothing
but energy. But since we are conscious beings observing these things, there
must be three ultimate principles in Nature, namely consciousness, energy,
and matter conjoined with anti-matter. Regarded philosophically, they
have to be taken together as forming a complete entity. These are the three
qualities: sattva, rajas and tamas of Sāmkhya, forming a complete unity.
Prakriti and Purusha joined together stand as the neutral principle,
immobile above them, initiating all movements in manifestation. This is
also the ―immovable mover‖ in Greek philosophy, and can readily be
observed by an interiorization of self-consciousness through yoga.
We should note that Patanjali‘s Godhead1 is none other than the
―extraordinary Purusha,‖ who remains unaffected by the movements of
the manifestation. When a man by turning inward attains this immobility
in self-consciousness, which is the duality of matter and anti-matter, he
reaches directly the plane of God-awareness. This is what the Christian
mystics called: the ―Flight of the alone in the Alone to the Alone.‖ This can
be achieved only by living within oneself.
So, finally, God is the Lord of matter and anti-matter, which together
make up His Energy residing in and suffusing the whole world known to
us through our senses. Once this is realized, the mystic sees with open
eyes, ―His Signature‖ in the whole pervading energy.
And that Signature is what we have called the Void.
There we touch a point referring to the two dolphins. Why do they turn
around each other without stopping? Can one assume an axis around
which they turn; but where does the movement come from?
There is something similar in our own body. The spinal column goes
like a neon rod from the crown of the head to the place where an animal
has its tail. From head to tail. Now you can imagine it as not being straight,
but like a serpent within striking upward to the crown of the head with its
hood. What is real is the streak of light along the spine. All along that
streak of light tiny and very alive atoms are pulsating. I also discovered it
in the cosmic ray in the body coming from overhead. From where does this
pulsating come? One can say it is an impulse that comes from nowhere, but
this mere thought gives to your body, your mind, and your soul — such

1 Īśvarī, the highest conception of a personal God.

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 165

wonderful pose and illumination! It is an opening up of everything in you.

So you don‘t live by bread alone by just so many proteins and
carbohydrates!
This is the teaching among the Bauls. The Baul says: ―What are you
going to reject? You reject one thing, you throw it outside yourself, then
immediately life in another form comes and feeds upon it. Are you able to
reject life, the universal life? No! So purify everything. Don‘t say there is
impurity. Don‘t say there is sin.‖ Everything is light, perceived as such
only in a higher state of consciousness.
What wonderful teaching! Such people are saints, saints of God walking
on earth; they are Christs.

22

It was in the dead of night. I heard these words very distinctly: ―You go to
sleep. From sleep you go to death. Through death you awake to the Void.‖
What was that? I heard the words. I listened to them. I followed them. I
closed my eyes, tried to sleep and forget everything. Sometimes I keep
awake for hours. That night I suddenly saw that sleep was coming so I
remained quiet and tried to see how I was dying in my sleep. I saw that it
was simply slipping into the Void nowhere, and that there was light, an
illumination that was the ―presence,‖ the eternal presence of something
which I cannot describe. I call it the Void. I could also call it God, or
Purusha, or Brahma, or our Father in Heaven. Then a tremendous energy
possessed me. There was light in my heart. It grew. Then there was a
wonderful peace, an awareness…
I remembered, it is said in the Kaṭha Upanishad, that the young boy
Nachiketā, who went into the House of Death stayed there three nights. He
ate and drank nothing.
Vaivaswata, the Lord of Death, was on tour gathering victims from this
world. When he came back, his servants ran to him saying: ―An honoured
guest has arrived. For three days, he has touched neither food nor drink.
The Laws of hospitality have not been obeyed. O Lord of Death, go and
wash his feet with fresh water!‖
―My boy,‖ said Vaivaswata, ―what do you want from me?‖
―I wish to go back to earth.‖
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 166

―Very good! For the three nights you have been here without food or
drink, I give you three wishes. You have told me the first one. What else do
you wish for?‖
―When I go back, I wish that my father may know me again. It is hard to
recognize one who comes back after having been dead.‖ (This is what
occurred at the resurrection of Christ. Nobody knew Him again.)
―Yes, your father will know you again. What is your last wish?‖
―Tell me whether I exist here or do not exist? What is this, fantasy or
reality?‖
Vaivaswata was taken aback. He said: ―What a question! Even the gods
don‘t know whether they are or are not in death. Well, back on earth, enjoy
all the things of the world: men, servant and all the women you want. Just
play with them all.‖
The boy interrupted him: ―Yes, I shall take everything that life offers me.
But now that I have seen you, I want an answer to my question. You must
reply!‖
―Well, well, how obstinate you are! I am going to answer your
question.‖
What follows is the whole of the Kaṭha Upanishad. The gist of it is: just as
pure water dropping into an ocean of pure water exists, so does this body,
soul and everything melting into it, become one. It is a luminous state.
Vaivaswata goes on: ―You have been a Brahmin boy on earth. You have
seen your father perform sacrifices, make offerings and dedicate himself;
everything thrown into the fire burns, the flames rise and flash into the
intermediate world of lightning.
―Beyond that there is the state of the dazzling sun illuminating the
mind, and still farther, where the light softens to moonlight, there is the
state of intuition. It is filled with a mystic feeling. Beyond that you rise to
the stars into a consciousness which is cosmic and infinite. Piercing
through it is sat-chit-ānanda.‖
The last lines of the Upanishad read as follows: ―There, there is no light,
no sun, no moon, not even the stars. There is no lightning, no fire. But
everything shines in the dark shining of death, which illumines
everything.‖

If we don‘t meet again, don‘t feel that I am not. I am pure Existence. Oṃ

śānti, śānti, śānti.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 167

Whatever I may say from now on will simply be the same thing said in a
different way. Whatever we explain is only one way among many ways.
The Void is everywhere.

23

Concentration should be turned towards ourselves — turned towards the

self. It is an interiorized attention upon the self which in itself is nothing.
You must forget everything. You know only one thing, that you are. You
feel deeply that you are. Do you remember that phrase in the Bible: ―I am
that I am?‖ It was quoted like this and Moses heard it in the burning bush.
Later on, when he described it, he said: ―Well, I didn‘t, at that time, say: I
am that I am.‖
So you see, God-consciousness and self-consciousness — both become
one. They form together one total reality. I feel that I am dependent upon
That: That is the greater one, and this is the lesser one, but they are tied
together just like clasped fingers. So I can say: ―I rise up to you and stretch
out my hands‖ and That says to me: ―I come down to you.‖
Then, just at that moment, another process starts, between I and That.
The duality remains for a long, long time. It is simply a very bad habit that
we have acquired when while awake, we begin to say: ―I have to think of
God, I have to pray, I have to find Him out.‖ These physical words are
used when we are relying on our senses. But in a state of concentration the
object becomes very clear and illumined, while the ―I,‖ myself, remains
misty. Yet, I feel that I am talking and that I am seeing. What is that ―I‖?
Nothing! If you pursue this line and go deeper within yourself, you will see
that the subject and the object finally come together and something,
without your knowing it, is deposited within you. You might think: ―I have
understood what goes on. I know.‖ But no! You feel that you know nothing.
At that very moment, you must let yourself go and abandon yourself fully
to the mystery.
You have to be patient with yourself and repeat this experience again
and again. Each time you will only get, like the touch of a brush, a patch of
colour! If you repeat it again, then another patch! And so on for a very long
time. Finally all becomes quiet and clear within you. The Law of densities
takes it course.
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 168

First you will again think: ―Oh! I know that! I have got that, all is well!‖
But you have to feel the different degrees of densities in your thinking.
When you think with words it is with the density of the earth. Your
thoughts are mechanical; you utter perhaps great words, but you are like a
parrot repeating words. This kind of thinking must be thrown back into the
fire of experience to make it become liquid.
There is a liquid thinking in which the words have the density of water.
On the ordinary plane, this thinking jumps from here to there, from there
to here without end and finally reaches nowhere. But if it is the thought of
a prophet or of a poet, it goes from here to there; like water being spilt from
a jar it has to go somewhere. Liquid thought spreads because it has the
fluidity of water.
The notion of liquid thinking comes from the Kaṭha Upanishad, in which
Nachiketā put that very question to the Lord of Death: ―Am I here? Am I
not here? When I leave my body, what becomes of my awareness?‖ And
the Lord of Death answered: ―It is just as though pure water were poured
into an ocean of pure water. The two come together and there is only one.‖
That is why the mystics everywhere in the world have spoken of the sea as
the origin of life. The Vedic seers also say: ―The sky is an ocean, the heart is
an ocean…‖
It is that pure state of liquidness, of vastness, which means freedom.
Water in a glass takes on a shape, though water is not confined to one form
but to endless forms. Water does not remain fixed in any particular form.
Do away with all forms, have that freedom, that plasticity! This quality of
being I found in Shri Ramakrishna. It thrilled me! He could identify himself
with anything he liked and become it. Then immediately afterwards, he
could throw it off and become another thing.
If liquid thinking is the second state, the third one is the state of
luminous thinking, when you hardly utter any word but radiate your
thoughts with a look or a gesture. From here on, everything is subject to the
principles of radiation. In this room, light is something which gives form to
everything. There is nothing in the light itself. If there is light during the
day, there is darkness during the night. Light and darkness are the two
dolphins sporting together. A transfiguration arises from their two bodies
in movement: this line and that line together forming a circle. It is the
symbol of pure life! And beyond that is the Void which contains everything
and at the same time is Nothing.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 169

Light which is formless, and which at the same time gives form to
everything, has been represented in pictures by the halo round the heads of
saints. The Buddhist scriptures say the Buddha had a wide halo
surrounding his whole body.
When you speak to people remain turned inward. Feel from within a
halo around you. Then people will come to you without even knowing it.
This is the radiation principle which works in both directions: a radiation
which is both outward and inward.
Then there is the fourth state: it is a touch-thinking which touches
directly the heart of others. When all inhibitions are shed you go deeper
within yourself, then no word is used. The vibration of the soul resounds in
the soul of others, a vibration which can be transmitted without any
ostensible means, even from the other extremity of the earth. Silent
prophets have used that Sound alone. The silence then becomes the Word.
Beyond this is the Logos — God as the Word. This is speaking from the
Void whence the mystics say: ―Creation comes from the Void; Creation and
the Word are one.‖
In this way you expand into the Void. But the Void does not pin you
down because it has no boundary. You fill it. The impact on you is that you
feel no boundary: ―I am that I am!‖ It comes to that formula for which the
Christ was crucified, the Sufi murdered. Only Buddha escaped that
destiny, though he had many antagonists in his lifetime and still has!

24

The liquid body is the life principle. I talk, spend energy, meet people, eat,
grow. It is all through this body which is lying here, suffering, blind, inert
— a heavy body (tamas) infused with power (rajas).
After that comes the body of the mind (sattva), when the thoughts are
more subtle.
Then comes the body of intuition (buddhi), when life plays with life,
when it is no longer the body playing with the body.
When many foci of intuition come together a tremendous power is born.
Then a revolution is created; it assumes a form like a new incarnation. Then
the gross body, the liquid body, the mind body, are all forgotten. And the
Void is beyond.
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 170

I touch it, just as I am here on solid earth which will not give way. But
do I want to test it? No. I let myself live like a child, taking everything for
granted and looking at everything with wide open eyes.
And that gives me freedom.

25

I have analysed my dreams and discovered that up till now I have never
dreamt that I am lying here. I am always moving about, going along here,
going along there. Even though I am resting here, at the same time I am
moving very fast. I remember the beautiful description of Brahma‘s
wanderings given in the Isha Upanishad: ―He rests, he sits quiet and at the
same time he travels far distances. He is lying on his back, though he is
moving everywhere.‖
The mind is a wonderful instrument when it is well tamed. Keep it
always under control! Sri Aurobindo speaks of the mind, of the super-
mind, meaning to see Brahma in everything. It is the most ancient teaching
which appears as new. It brings people, in the end, to the wide conception
and understanding that mind and love can become one. Everywhere this
deep experience is the same.
Of course, it happens that some disciples want to break away from the
believers who remain attached to words and to forms. Do they find
happiness in that separation? No! I say to them: ―Keep in the fold even if
you are puzzled. Control the mind, keep it from running into your ego.‖
Do the people who have had such a deep experience meet? Yes, sometimes.
They simply gaze into each other‘s eyes and smile. That is all. They have
nothing to say except: ―You are me, I am you.‖
Only after Christ was crucified did He become the Son of God. As long
as he preached or meditated, he was the son of man. His real nature came
out only on the Cross. His commandment is: You come after me. Follow
me. Ascend the Cross till you reach the Void. Be perfect as my Father in
Heaven.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 171

26

Yes, these years of illness have been for me a time of deep inner
experiences, of many, many experiences; of deep silence also, in which
Kālī, the eternal time, has been flowing on.
I listen to the noises around me until midnight: shouting, quarreling,
market cries, and radio — then all the noises die down.
I sleep two hours. Then, awake, I simply close my eyes and remain very,
very quiet. Time flows on. This is Kālī, the time‘s spirit, the Void. I think of
Kālī1. I have been living for many years in Calcutta but I went only once to
her temple. I saw her. I paid homage to her. I am not afraid of her.
It is just as if, in my imagination, I hear her voice. Then I say to her:
―What do you want from my life? I give you everything. Well, you have
already taken my movements, my feet, my voice, and soon you will be
taking my sight. If I am lying prostrate like Shiva under your feet, if you
are tramping upon me, what will you take then? Your feet might get tired,
you should go to sleep somehow.‖
There is something wonderful — as long as I remain awake I think:
―Well, I should have been dreaming, I am creating my dreams!‖ I see the
awakened state and the great quietness that follows. If I look into it, then I
suddenly know: ―Well, I am awake!‖ It is all power. I am simply aware. All
values which are put upon awareness mean nothing. Awareness is
freedom to see without entering into anything. By that you throw away so
much of the weight of life, so much ballast. You soar up! like a balloon.
There Sāmkhya comes in — how? In this way: this awareness is the
Purusha within me, the Shiva aware that Kālī is dancing on my chest. I am
simply aware of that. She dances. I don‘t dictate anything. I don‘t wish
anything. I don‘t love or hate. I am simply aware. Then a joy comes — a
wonderful serene joy. And perhaps that joy is felt by a Kālī who has
thrown away all her power, who then becomes a little girl with eyes
twinkling merrily for joy. She becomes herself again!
This awareness is called in the Upanishads: ―knowing without content.‖
You see, at this very moment, I speak to you very simply about all these
things. Perhaps if I were to write them down, arguments would come and
make up a big fat volume, but the whole thing that I have just been trying

1The goddess representing time flowing. She is the female energy of Shiva, with two
characters, one mild, the other fierce.
 ■ Rambling Thoughts ■ 172

to make you feel is the power of one tiny movement which is like a dew
drop reflecting the sun — a drop of dew seeing the sun. Then knowledge
and wisdom are thrust in upon you. You know that you have been taught
something great.
Tagore, when he was quite young, perhaps twenty-three, wrote a line
that thrilled me: ―I want to drink the infinite Void like a cup of wine.‖ You
become a lover of the Void. You are drunk with the Void. That is why I
went to primitivism to see what we are made up of. We are nothing but a
bubble, a spark in the universe — that is a mystery!
You feel, you are quiet, you know, that is all. You take a rest for two
hours and work for twenty-two hours. That was my way in my Guru‘s
ashram. He wrote books on yoga, speaking about a number of topics; I
listened very patiently. I have been loyal to him, always working, but
remaining myself within myself.
Just as I am now. Even now, I talk to people simply out of loyalty. If
they come and ask me something, I talk to them; I am following the rules of
Manu and speak only when I am asked for something. Otherwise I have
nothing to speak about.
As they ask, I gradually and very cautiously draw them toward the
Void. Sometimes someone has just pondered a lot. Perhaps he or she heard
nothing, understood nothing, but suddenly comes to me and says: ―Well,
thanks to you I saw the Void!‖ Then I will say: ―Very good! Go on!‖ But
that happens once in a blue moon! Such is the fulfilment of life! So
something must be above you, above everything: Freedom.
My Guru once said: ―This darkness of the sky that you see and those
lights in the form of stars, they are but one. When you know this, you will
have known what Brahman is…‖ and then he silently walked away.
 APPENDIX : I

SĀDHANĀ : SPIRITUAL DISCIPLINE

 ■ Sādhanā ■ 174

He who practices a spiritual discipline (Sādhanā) will use Sāmkhya to

learn how to look at the movements of Great Nature (prakriti) in all its
manifestations without interfering with its movements, to recognize its
imprint on everything, and to observe the ability of prakriti to pass
imperceptibly from one plane of consciousness to another. Not to react to
any of its movements would mean, in fact, to live in the very heart of life
without being affected by it. But at the beginning, this statement cannot be
taken for granted for it is not merely by observing the movements of
prakriti that one becomes its master.
In practice, Sāmkhya is the way to the realization of the expansion of
sahaja. Neither the one, in its reasoning and logic, nor the other, in
establishing the ―real Man in the temple of the heart,‖ takes into account
gods, demons, paradises, hells or formalism of any kind—in the course of
inner work. The point where Sāmkhya and sahaja converge is in life, which
in itself becomes the object of meditation. Therefore serenity within oneself
and outside oneself a right relationship with life as a whole are the ways to
an effortless yoga, that is, a way of being.
The discipline of sahaja begins from the acceptance of the whole of life
just as it is. The heart opens up to receive it and to live it. As for the
intelligence and logic, they will seek in Sāmkhya the necessary support for
finding the key to the enigma of existence. Sahaja then appears like a path
lit by the experience of inner being.
The disciple will turn his gaze upon himself, and discover, although he
had never before seen it, the countless inner disturbances created by
everything in him which says: ―I like and I do not like; I want and I do not
want; it‘s right and it‘s wrong,‖ and so forth, which prevent him from
noticing that in himself there is a stormy prakriti identical to the one that
exists around him.
Learn to return voluntarily to what is fundamentally primitive in you,
carefully hidden and disguised in the realm of instinct, intuition, and sex.
This conscious return will produce unsuspected reactions and outbursts of
all your dormant impatience. If you were a tree, they would all of them be
branches issuing from the same trunk. One cannot cut off one branch
without damaging the whole; cutting several of them would cause the
death of the tree. All branches together form the canopy of foliage.
In the wind, the foliage is in harmony with the whole forest. It is in the
foliage that the birds nest and sing. May this picture help you in your
spiritual discipline, even if it is very hard. If some sadness lingers in you, it
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 175

means there must still be an attachment somewhere, just as in the tree there
are knots which hinder the rising of the sap.
How can he dissociate himself from that prakriti which until he dies will
always be for him the mind and the body with all their functions? At this
point traditional rāja-yoga comes to help. This yoga, through its graduated
disciplines, brings the body to a conscious quietness and the mind to a state
of equanimity comparable to complete rest, or to ecstasy (samādhi). In this
state of equanimity, all the automatic movements of prakriti, and its
unconscious play can be perceived. In following this inner discipline, the
ideal of Sāmkhya is kaivalya, that is to say, to learn how to stand back, and
the ideal of yoga is vairāgya which means to learn how to observe oneself
without passion, without judgment.
Long and meticulous work is indispensable in order to discover that any
emotion whatsoever creates a passionate movement which takes man out
of himself. In this case yoga teaches how to check the impetuous movement
by emptying the mind of all images. The superabundant energy is thus
brought back to the self. But the purpose of Sāmkhya is that this energy,
having returned to the self, should be directed consciously towards the
outer life, that it should manifest itself openly without disturbing the inner
or outer prakriti. In this way energy is purified. It becomes creative. Of
course, this state can last only a few minutes and immediately the ordinary
man reappears with his train of habitual reactions to the play of
manifestation.
This moment of illumination — the word is right even if the moment be
brief — is a look into oneself and at the same time a look outside oneself
(śivadṛṣṭi). Symbolically, it can be compared to the piercing look of Puruṣa
into oneself and onto the active prakriti around one. To accept prakriti in its
totality is pure sahaja. In a subtle manner, beyond ―I like and I don‘t like,‖ it
brings a possibility of modification in the densities of the intrinsic qualities
(guṇas) of prakriti and shows the path by which prakriti can be reached.
Allow your power to radiate and may this radiation be your tapasyā.
Hear the resonance of this call in you and have the courage to plunge
unflinchingly into the depths of your soul. Do not listen to the
sophistications of the wise-acres who teach with pomp and ostentation.
A great tapasyā awaits you. This word means personal austerity and
voluntary discipline. It is usually translated as asceticism, penance, and so
on, whereas the essential Vedic meaning is nearer to the idea of radiance.
 ■ Sādhanā ■ 176

The word ―tapasyā‖ connects two ideas: that of heat and that of light.
These are clearly the creative energy and the wisdom so often described in
the Upanishads as together being the first manifestation of the creative urge.
One of the Upanishads even goes so far as to say that it is a radiation devoid
of any specific characteristic, that is, without form (alingaṃ).
Understood in this manner, tapasyā is the continuous unfolding in time
of an endless intuition. There are two kinds of tapasyā. One in which I
always say ―yes‖ (Tantras) and one in which I always say ―no‖ (Vedanta).
The true seeker who says ―yes‖ is a born poet, for he is obliged to translate
everything into exalted thoughts and language. His poetry plays the role of
a science of transmutation.
True tapasyā means to be one with the creative power of prakriti. It brings
us close to Great Nature as she really is. Through tapasyā one drops all
accumulation, all that has been acquired, and returns to what is simple and
innate. The ―life in the forest‖ of Sītā and Rāma is the perfect representation
of the spirit of tapasyā. The austerities, both mental and physical, to which
many a seeker subjects himself, are only the fumbling means adopted by
the ignorant soul to attain that perfectly natural end. May Sītā and Rāma
inspire you!
APPENDIX: II

LETTERS
 ■ Letters ■ 178

January 18, 1951

Don‘t look up to man for help. Behind every man, see the power in
whose hands the man is only an instrument. No man can help or harm the
divine will that you are. A smile and silence. Yes, that will be your
response to everything that comes to you. Things are good or bad only to
the diseased and prejudiced mind which automatically criticizes
everything. They are ripples of power to one who sees and creates.
Feel that Shakti within you—the Shakti called ―Mahiṣāsuramardinī,‖ who
smilingly crumples in her hands the enraged and obstinate buffalo, the
demon of ignorance. Smile, but at the same time crush and transform!

March 25, 1951

Remain calm and mistress of yourself. Draw yourself in. Create from
within your being. Live in the Void. Do not let life‘s shocks disturb you nor
the questions arising from them.
Make every shock a source of intense spiritual strength that will create
within you a form hard as granite, white as the snows of Haimavati, the
consolidation of power on earth — the dream of my whole life.

April 2, 1951

If you are feeling lonely, it is because you do not yet know who you are.
You must not depend upon people or things around you. The day you
really come to know your own self, you will become impersonal.
The utmost that can be predicted about you then is that you are a force
or an idea.
Yes, your background is activity. Why should you not be yourself?
Don‘t imitate others. Everyone must be guided by his own destiny
(dharma). You know the secret. Let the Void be your support; lean back on
the cushion in the Void.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 179

Let the episode that troubled you be buried quickly. Whatever gets
heavy and troublesome, it is best to send it down again to the bosom of
Mother Earth. But this must be done quite consciously. Laying down a
burden does not mean to reject it. The earth will know how to turn the
deposit into good manure. Even rotten things can be turned to the best use
in that way.

March 22, 1952

As time goes on, how everything appears so distant and fantastic! I

remember how I used to feel like this when I was young and labored night
and day for my Guru. But for whom am I laboring now? For my dream.
I don‘t know if I shall see it fulfilled while I am on earth. Only I feel that
I am diving deeper and deeper into her bowels like a meandering root. I
am thirstily sucking her sap and sending it up to flower and bloom, which
perhaps I shall never see. I can only say, ―A great austerity (tapasyā) has
come upon me.‖

April 20, 1952

This is how I understand your return to ―life.‖ It is in tune with the

rhythm of your personal destiny (svadharma); you must be true to it. My
loyalty to ―Death‖ (Yama) will be the background against which your ―life‖
will shine.
As for me, I have my ―work‖ that I have to do, and there is the ―dream‖
that I shall always be dreaming, without ever hoping to see it realized. I
have felt the pulse of India and do not expect any big result. These are the
days of preparing nothing more than manure. We sow only to mow down
the young plants. The great seed will be cast when the soil is ready. I see
the mighty tree in my dream that will exist one day. It is my God — but
only a Dream-God.
I am carried in my work neither by hope nor by despondence. It is like
the mighty stream of Brahmaputra moving slowly and majestically with
hardly any ripple on it. I like this rhythm in which sounds the words, ―I am
 ■ Letters ■ 180

alone with the Alone.‖ It is not joy. It is peace and a sweet, sad love beaded
with sparkling tears.

April 27, 1952

… If a time of dissolution (pralaya) were to come, what would be your

reaction to the ―ugly‖ face of truth? Remember that truth is always
beautiful because it gives freedom, and we must be free within to have a
real taste of life.
I was looking today at a picture of Shri Ramana Maharshi. For sixty
years he did nothing. He simply lived and stared into the Void. This is
good! I have also been reading Shri Aurobindo‘s Savitri, a staggering
pyramid of fantasies! For forty years he had been a recluse, spinning
dreams around him. That is also good! I like them both. They lived in their
own way — one in the nudity of Death, the other in writing The Life Divine
— are they not the faces of the same Inexpressible? Well, we have to live, to
grow, to bloom, to seed, and then to die. Let us do it with grace, like the
season‘s flowers!

December 3, 1952

You must have received news of me by this time en route. As yet there
has been no flux of visitors. The weather is not too cold.
The calm of Haimavati remains intact. Have I lost my grip on life?
Perhaps not. The phrase ―spiritual existentialism‖ we coined has become so
real here. I can exactly imagine how you feel when you come into the
crowd. It will be there and yet it will not be. The soul like a little child,
simply looking at things with wondering eyes — not evaluating, not
passing judgment on anything, not bound by a sense of duty and yet
silently active in radiating her simple joy of living; how wonderful!
Love wears a new face then; suddenly it becomes secure in the depths. I
love because I exist. I possess everything because I am nothing. My love is
a light that gently kisses the drooping brow of sorrow and passes on. It
embraces everything but sticks to nothing.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 181

You remember the story I told you of Devahuti, the mother of Kapila,
who had known life in a womanly fullness and then known the Void in its
manly grandeur and at the end of her earthly existence had chosen to
change herself into a sparkling stream. That is the eternal Woman. I can‘t
picture her as Mother today. She is the child who holds the gods on her
tiny palm.

April 5, 1953

Yes, life in Haimavati has been full. It has been like a pure flame burning
all dross and shooting upward, melting in the Void. The material
Haimavati has died in order to be changed into a luminous idea that will
never die. I shall never forget the sacrifice you made to Her, not to any
institution but to the idea — an idea beyond the comprehension of the
mind, but how real! The last year has been wonderful, though outwardly it
was a movement of dissolution. But inwardly, what wonderful freedom
and ease and power. Have you not felt that?
And now let me tell you that Almora is really a land of dissolution
(pralaya). This year there has not been one drop of rain for over two
months. The water shortage is terrible and we have to wait another two
months until the rains come. Everything is scorched, dried up, brittle. The
skin cracks as it does in winter. But how wonderful it is! I feel neither dead
nor alive, but in strange communion with existence. The only thing that
counts is true action. All opposites have faded away in a luminous haze
which envelops everything and swallows it up. I do not know what will
remain.

May 1, 1953

Always rest within the Void and you will understand. It is

understanding that counts. Really it is something like working with
intelligence. Very few people do that. Actions do not matter at all. Your
action benefits none but your own self. If your actions clear your vision,
 ■ Letters ■ 182

they are all right. If not — well, it is all illusion (Māyā). Only the Void will
tell you.

June 14, 1953

I am in absolute peace these days. Work is also vanishing though I work

the whole day. There is no sense in working for something: You be the
work itself. Not to become, it is simply being. A tree does not know what it is
going to become, but every moment it simply is. Do you call that
unconsciousness, stupidity? What is our consciousness but a feverish
dream? When we awake —and we really awake (not simply pass from one
dream to another dream, which we fondly cherish as awakening) — we no
longer become, but we are. The whole secret of life is to pin your faith on
that being, knowing that it is insensible, it is the Void.
The other day, while I was carelessly turning over the pages of my
volume of Rigveda, I suddenly came upon a passage of Śaunaka, a very old
index-maker of the Vedas. He said, ―There is only one God and that God is
the Sun.‖ It gave me a violent start. It was as if Śaunaka was nodding his
head and saying: ―We all felt like that, and that produced the Vedas.‖And
the sun said, ―I have been shining for millions of years and I shall go on
shinning for millions of years. As long as I shine and don‘t become too hot
for people to live on the earth, well, you can go on weaving dreams of
ashrams and Gurus, of divinization, and so on!‖
Can you feel, at the bottom of your woman‘s heart, that you are nothing
but a bit of solar energy, dead and stiffened, and yet trying to warm up
into the radiance of that solar orb? And if you succeed, you will be Savitri,
which literally means nothing but the solar energy.
And the sun, is he going to live for all eternity? Of course not. Every
evening he goes down and I pull a chair into the yard and stare at the
fading crest of Shyāmā Devi1, which looks so strangely like the heaving
breast of a woman lying on her back. I see the dead earth in her. The
darkness swallows everything. And then nothing remains but the Void.
Can you unite that death with life? Only then you will live! I have told
you of nothing but death. You must know him (Yama) and be married to
him before you go back to life — to your life. Follow the curve of life, don‘t

1 The peak of the hill above Almora, below which stands Haimavati.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 183

struggle against it. Only know that you are secure in the Void that is
beyond. And then have a good smile at life. I have always been a cipher to
you because I knew that this is the only truth.

August 3, 1953

I am so happy to know that you are leaving India feeling empty and
stripped of everything. That is the way to create life! You will be bringing
back something other than fine, reassuring words — a pulsating life that
cannot be seen or heard, but can only be felt as a vibration. Give yourself
up completely. Return to the earth again, and from your self-effacement
you will be giving life to thousands of sprouting seeds. Be the very spirit of
the earth — the patient mother who suckles her children without uttering a
word.
The unknown is before you, but the known is in you. And that which
knows will master that which does not know. If you know yourself, you
also know your universe, which will be molded by your understanding.
May Haimavati be with you always, for it will be your strength, your Śakti.

September 17, 1953

May your return to the West be a new birth, in every sense of the term.
You have learned from life, you have learned even more from death. Now
let death be your Master and Lord. It is safe to walk with him along the
path of life. To possess nothing, not even your thoughts, to know that
everything is and simply to look at them—asking nothing, refusing nothing
— that is the secret of the ―no-mind.‖ Let not life but death plant within
you whatever he likes. You have simply to accept and make it fruitful with
the sap of your being.
All creations are in the Void. So, there can be absolutely no frustration in
any worker who has known the Void. To know this is not to quarrel, not to
worry, not to hurry in getting things done. Things arrange themselves
automatically around him, not according to any human plan, mind you!
And the Divine has no plan at all. He is like a child playing with creation
 ■ Letters ■ 184

and destruction at random because he is above both. The Vedas say, ―He is
death and immortality is his shadow. All is Māyā.‖ There is complete
security and freedom in the knowledge of that. But this is a truth that
should not be spoken about, it must be felt.
As for me, you know I can best be of use to you if I am impersonal. You
can think of me in whatever way you like, only if that leads you to your
complete freedom. If it leads to the Void, then relations are true; it not —
beware! If you have made all I have given you your own so that no trace of
me is left in them, then you have understood. And that I can be silent
again, knowing I have done my part.

September 20, 1953

We have lost the esoteric and the occult sense by being civilized and it
has not been for our good. The upward evolution is not without difficulty.
We have to reclaim what we have lost. The other day I was thinking that if
evolution is true and we have passed through a vegetable stage of life, then
why did we lose that power of changing inorganic matter into food? Why
can we not suck our life from Mother Earth as the plants do? If we know
how the plants do that, why can we not get back the technique in our own
bodies? Much of occultism is thus going back to the bosom of the earth, to
hunt for the lost continent of Atlantis. Yes, we have to deal with ―mass‖
and ―matter,‖ but we have to do it in a spiritual way. A long and tiresome
process, of course. But still we have to do it.

September 29, 1953

When you become one with a thing, that thing no longer exists for you
and yet something may happen in you — a manifestation that is, of course,
an illusion (Māyā) — an inscrutable mystery. It is good to know that life is a
mystery. I do not laugh at it like Gurdjieff nor do I glorify it like Shri
Aurobindo. I simply smile.
Of course death is the greatest experience that we can have while in life.
Cannot one part of you live and the other part die? Life will then be only
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 185

like the twinkling of a star surrounded by a great abyss of death and

darkness.
It is good to feel this darkness within you—the unmanifested which you
can call Kālī—the Mother or any other name you like. Life means nothing if
you know that there is death behind you, ready to absorb you again, as the
great Void is absorbing every moment millions of seers, of ―those who
know.‖ To know this while living, ―to carry death into every movement of
your life,‖ is the consummation of life‘s purpose. Death is peace, death is
silence, death is power. Don‘t laugh, don‘t glorify, only smile. Smile
because you know.

May 9, 1954

Haimavati is a living idea, whether we are referring to the place where

you live in Europe or to the house in Almora. The same is true of the house
in Shillong. So there the house in the Swiss Himalayas and the house in the
Eastern Himalayas. Everywhere the living idea is that of the ―secret cave,‖
the temple in the heart of man in which Puruṣa is absorbed in himself.
I am happy to know that your work is recognized and supported.
Accept any help that gives you freedom on the explicit condition that you
free yourself of every hindrance that might prevent you from serving fully.
If you do it consciously and silently, Puruṣa will uphold you. Never betray
and you will be in harmony with yourself — even if things become
difficult.

November 28, 1954

Continue to live the life of Haimavati and you will discover that there
has been absolutely no break in the flow of Śakti. During these last two
years, there was only an eddy and Śakti now flows on as evenly as before.
Bring to your friends the spirit of Haimavati, which is the secret India
you have known, but do not stress that it is India. A mother nurses her
child not with the food she herself eats, but with her milk, with her own life
sap into which she has transformed the material food. You have passed
 ■ Letters ■ 186

barriers, found your freedom. Be human, which means incarnating the

Divine. May the discipline of Sāmkhya and the spirit of the Bāul sustain
your strength, your Śakti.

December 19, 1954

Man is growing. There will come a day when we shall know true
spiritual democracy, everyone standing on his own feet and hailing one
another ―Brother‖! No Masters, no Gurus. Science, logic, democracy are all
tending toward the spiritual-democratic movement. When man has
learned to be spiritually free from all dogmas, learned not to lean on any
staff but on his own feet, then the Vedic spirit will dawn upon him making
the heaven and earth one.
There is one trait in the European mind which we here have lost for the
last two thousand years — it is the love of nature as the pagan loves it, that
is, for its own sake. In this trait lies one of the greatest secrets of releasing
the bonds of the soul. This romanticism in a European soul is something
very real which, unfortunately, is considered as something going against
spirituality. The cause lies in the Semitic idea that this world is a created
thing and not God himself, this latter idea being the old Vedic idea which
we ourselves lost after the eleventh century, and which Rabindranath
Tagore brought back to us, without himself knowing he was renewing
something which was a part of our own heritage.
Always make people feel that God, soul and Nature are one, that
spiritual growth is not an intellectual process but a life process — an all-
round growth. It is not the attainment of something distant but a flowering
of what is within. Remove all obstacles, conventions, superstitions, and you
will find that you are flooded with light which was just waiting for the
windows of your heart to be opened.
Love the youthful spirit in man. Therein lies another secret. Adolescence
is the flowering period of life, represented by Krishna. Our whole aim
should be to make adolescence more and more conscious. You can help the
beauty of a well-adjusted family life. That is true spirituality because it is
worship of a life divine.

*
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 187

August 13, 1955

Put out strong roots into your native soil. Go ahead with the work that
connects you with your search. Make it a play of Śakti. Where there is
complete detachment, there is a spontaneous flow of energy. Your way of
working with a group impersonally is fine. You have caught the spirit.
Feeling deeply within oneself the ―real I,‖ to live it and radiate it
spontaneously — that is the law of divine work.
As far as possible, give up all outer forms in your relations with people.
Of course, it is impossible not to use forms — gestures, movements, and
words. But these are only preliminaries. What you are really doing is
absorbing and then radiating. Always look beyond the forms and you will
find prakriti — a vast ocean of energy coming in waves that take on various
aspects. Absorb prakriti and remain calm. The only thing that counts is to be
— and then let radiation take place.

March 11, 1956

If you feel that India is calling you, of course you will come back. But
you must not create circumstances. Be drawn by the stream of events. If
you have courage enough to live your own inner life and at the same time
let yourself be carried by the stream of life without your own will, then the
whole world is yours.
You can live without any attachment anywhere you are wanted. It
might be there just as well as here. You just live the life of the Bāul. He
arrives somewhere, works with all his heart, and packs off as soon as he is
not wanted. His inner life is all he possesses. If he joins a group, he works
for it just as if he were joining in the play of children at recreation and he
quietly drops away when the children are tired or simply don‘t want to
play any more.
If you dare to conceive the movement of life like this, you are on the
right side. But if you think you have something to do, that you are
necessary, then you will once more be caught by the snare of Māyā. Are
you able to be free like the Bāuls? Not intellectually, but in activity. If so,
perhaps some day you will find a ‗cause‘ to serve, just as I have found
 ■ Letters ■ 188

mine after I had played with things for years. And even then, you must
remain free. You must not forget that this ―cause‖ is still a play of Māyā,
who can devour you. The Void alone is ultimate reality.

August 24, 1956

Do not be attached to anything! Do not clutch onto anything! Only like

this will life‘s current lead you without shock to the vast ocean of the Void.
Real self-observation is exactly to find again and again the sensation of the
Void in the very heart of life‘s struggle. This is the sensation that can
illuminate death when it comes to us. Spiritual discipline implies a
merciless struggle in the reality of life. Then one is conscious of what real
Existence is, of which life and death are the two poles.

March 15, 1959

Simply float on. Do things as if you had nothing to do. When I am in a

fix, I simply become blank and wait. Great Nature does the same.
It is best to forget everything from time to time, even for a whole day.
Then things rush back in by themselves, as if they were brought by life‘s
current. One has to learn the trick of being able to float. A stream never
flows backwards.
It is good to know that you are slowly and steadily striking your roots
into the soil of your country. The day will come when the principles of
Sāmkhya will deliver the European mind from its present dreams and
psychoreligious nightmares.

May 26, 1964

The experience of suffering has been wonderful. It has opened up new

vistas of truth and welded all past experiences into a solid whole. So it
comes to this, ―All is Brahman,‖ be it pain or joy, life or death, light or
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 189

darkness. Beyond everything is the silent Void, the only objective reality,
which engulfs all subjective appearances. Wonderful!

June 13, 1964

I feel a new life pouring into me. Not that I am looking forward to any
conspicuous result —no, not that. It is simply the fullness of the Void, the
pure gaze that looks through the Māyā of it all, the ineffable smile of the
Buddha serenity. Prakriti is wonderful! She is so prolific in her inventions
and she keeps Puruṣa always spellbound with the novelties she ushers in
from day to day. Oh, it is a joy to BE, simply to BE.
Do not get struck! Flow on, not even caring if you reach the Ocean or
not.

April 25, 1965

It is a good sign you are dissatisfied with yourself. Self-complacence

would have meant death. Dissatisfaction is the stirring of the great Shakti,
which is making you feel that you have not done enough.
Take this dissatisfaction itself as a part of the great game you are
playing. Don‘t be troubled by it. Take it easily, as you have taken so many
things. And live quietly and deeply. Live as if you are not living, work as if
you are not working, talk as if you are not talking, think as if you are not
thinking. Then the great Shakti lying deep within you and causing these
stirrings of the heart will reveal herself. You will be taken up by her and be
one with her. Then you will know what you have to know. Non-existence
will then become the fountainhead of bubbling existence. Never to be
satisfied is one of the main features of Sāmkhya discipline.

*
 ■ Letters ■ 190

June 21, 1965

I am still in the dark about the friend who is building the new
Haimavati in the former bed of the Ganges near Calcutta. He has given me
lifelong freedom to use the house. According to the Scriptures, a serpent
never burrows a hole; it lives in a hole made by others and leaves it when it
likes. That is also what the Bāul says from the heart of his freedom.
If you come to see me, you will again have a taste of life as it was in
Lohaghat. We will follow the same pattern of life again, but it will not be so
quiet, as we have neighbors — all peasants, Hindus and Muslims living
together like brothers, so much so that you cannot distinguish them. From
the South comes the call to prayer by muezzins, from the North conches,
bells and the chants of kirtans. And no breaking heads over the modes of
praying to the same God.
 APPENDIX : III

BAULS OF BENGAL
 ■ Bauls of Bengal ■ 192

The Bāuls play an indispensable role in Bengal. It would be easy to point

a finger at them saying, ―Madmen drunk with God,‖ or even, ―Illiterate
beggars in the vain pursuit of a dream‖; nevertheless, it is from them that
Rabindranath Tagore derived much of his inspiration. In fact, the great
poet collected the words of many of their songs and many of their
touchingly simple melodies.1 While they remain outside the orthodox
traditions of India, the Bāuls nevertheless represent one of the
underground currents of spiritual life which remain intensely alive. This
current can be traced to a time even before that of the Vedic religions.
The name ―Bāul,‖ however, first appears in the literature of Bengal only
in the fifteenth century. It seems to derive from the word ―bātula‖ (vātula in
Sanskrit), meaning ―he who is beaten by the winds‖; he, that is, who
abandons himself to all his impulses. From that point to madness is only a
step! But this ecstatic madness has its origin in God, and its aim also in
God!
The Bāuls must not be thought of as forming a particular sect. Sādhakas
who follow a spiritual discipline and belong to all sorts of brotherhoods
and religious groups may become Bāuls if they are so disposed. Chinese
philosophy, in its closeness to nature, has perhaps the nearest approach to
Bāuls in its Ch‘an, Zen adepts, who so delight in paradox. The dominant
note that marks the Bāuls is their complete spiritual freedom, which is an
organic force without the slightest pretension. In ordinary life, thanks to
their utter non-conventionality, they are typical freethinkers, who have
unwittingly become a free instruction. There is no outer connection
between them of any kind.
They are recognizable because they generally wear long robes — though
these are not distinctive of any existing religious order. They let their hair
and beards grow. Since for them the Divine is formless and mythology a
dead letter, they are never seen making obeisance to any image or to any
human being, no matter how perfect he may be! They no longer belong to
any caste.
The Bāul‘s philosophy is not formulated in any sacred writings. He does
not depend on any tradition. Above all else he lets himself be guided by
intuition.
The Bāuls‘ only means of expression is extemporaneous singing which
voices their intimate spiritual experience. There are as many Hindu Bāuls

1Rabindranath Tagore spoke publicly of the Bauls for the first time in a public lecture at
the University of Calcutta and in his Hibbert Lectures published in The Religion of Man.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 193

as there as Muslim. Escaping from all orthodox forms, their lives are
completely integrated in the unity that exists between teacher (Guru) and
pupil (śiṣya). In fact, Muslim Gurus are known to initiate Hindus, and
Hindu Gurus to initiate Muslims. This inner relationship is ordained by
God.
There are monks, ascetics, and married men among the Bāuls. They go
from village to village, singing, with their ektārās — a simple one-stringed
instrument — and their small drums called ḍubkis. At certain times of the
year and in certain propitious places, the Bāuls come together periodically
in a big fair (melā) where the songs and dances continue day and night for
as long as the gathering lasts. On these occasions there are no rites of
worship and no oral teaching, for these mystic poets attach no importance
to anything except the vibration of souls —nothing else.
The spiritual discipline of the Bāuls is centred on the cult of the man in
whom God is called Maner manūṣ — ―He who lives in the heart.‖ This god
has only one attribute. He is all love! There is no mention here of God the
Creator nor of God the Destroyer.
One of the ways of reaching God is to give oneself up to a Guru who
becomes the link between man and the Divine. So the Guru is highly
venerated and respected, but teacher and pupil remain perfectly free on
both sides with no conditions between them of loyalty or obedience, with
no fixed obligation or responsibility.
The spiritual discipline of the Bāul is solely the flowering of the inner
being, of the constant presence of God. There is no search for any support
from outer things. Just on that account, their discipline, which begins with
the body, requires that the body, which plays the role of instrument, be
kept extremely pure, for the body is ―the temple of God.‖ ―In this body lives
the Man; if you call him, He will answer you.‖ It is actually a technique for
seeking God in oneself by using the instrument of the body that God gave
us: ―God made Himself man; in the perfect man who is the Guru, man is made
divine, so the ideal of God can be attained in our own bodies.‖ The cult of the
Bāul, in short, is spiritualized humanism.
The spiritual attitude of the Bāul has found in Bengal a terrain well
prepared to favor the growth of his philosophy‘s three principal ideas.
The idea of God as love has been enriched by all the adepts of bhakti-
yoga and by the Vaishnavites for whom Krishna is ―He who lives in the
heart.‖ The idea of the Guru as the perfect man who, while still a man, has
attained the highest goals, is a direct contribution of Islam. In Hinduism, in
 ■ Bauls of Bengal ■ 194

fact, the Guru is greater than all the gods, is himself divine. For the Bāul,
the veneration due to the Guru (guruvāda) is deeply rooted in the ancient
history of Bengal, where it was well known long before the advent of
Buddhism — that is, in the cult of the siddhas. What survives today of this
cult of the Siddhas, of Buddhism and of Islam, has been transmuted into a
harmonious composite in which the Bāuls come in contact with the
Absolute through ecstatic love. The idea of the body as the temple of God
comes directly from the haṭha-cult which is the basis of haṭha-yoga. The
Bāuls, in fact, are acquainted with a whole science of the body called
dehatattva (which is no more than the science of kunḍalinī and of the chakras
of the haṭha yogins), which is practiced by Hindus and Muslims alike.
These characteristics of the Bāuls, which in our day form the link
between Hindu and Muslim, are the pure product of the ancient non-
conformist schools of Buddhism which laid enormous emphasis on
metaphysical aspirations: ―What is the first truth?‖ (shunya), and on pure
experience: ―What is it that is born in me?‖ (sahaja). These ideas are still
alive for the Bāuls who speak freely and willingly of sahaja. Pure experience
is the great motive of their lives. Thus the non-orthodox mysticism of
medieval India forms the background for the modern Bāuls, and the saints
of Northern India, such as Kabir and Dadu, were certainly Bāuls. If we go
back even further, we can connect the Bāuls directly with the mysterious
Vrātya cult of the Artharva Veda.
Most Bāuls are illiterate and come from the poorest ranks of society. But
they also include learned Brahmins who have been rejected by their caste
and Muslims excommunicated by their orthodoxy. Many Sufis have also
become Bāuls through fear of persecution, saying: ―We escape from
orthodoxy (shariyat) in order to follow Truth (Haqiqat).‖
These Bāuls are scattered over the entire country. Recently a Muslim
Bāul even turned up in the mountains of Almora. He plucked the string of
his ektārā and repeated with every breath the holy Names of Rāma, of
Allah, of Krishna, of Buddha. When people showed some surprise, he
began to sing:

All these Names are the same Name,

the only one which lives in the heart.
O my brothers, why should we quarrel?
He is everywhere, He nameless
He, everywhere the same…
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 195

and, he added with some irony: ―Now, I will tell you what is happening in
the great world…‖. And immediately he began to compose some sort of
satirical verse scoffing at the political news of the day! ―Why are you
always singing?‖ he was asked. He replied:

Because we were born singing birds in order to sing;

We don‘t know how to walk on the ground
But with wings spread, in the sky, we soar…
APPENDIX : IV

Mystic Songs
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 197

O! stubborn one, by your cruel impatience

by your merciless insistence,
by the fire do you really wish
to force tight buds to open,
flowers to bloom
and fill the air with their perfume?

Do you not see that the great Artisan, My Lord,

at his leisure, by his grace
since the night of time
has caused the flowers to open from the bud?

Guilty is your ambition

and your wish to force life;
truly your purpose is sterile
stubborn, gnawed by impatience…

Do you not know that the river

invites you —
silently, calm, it flows —
Give in and let yourself float
your soul filled with His melody
O stubborn one, devoured by impatience…

Anonymous
 ■ Mystic Songs ■ 198

I shall not go to Mecca nor Medina

since my Beloved
is here
in me and I in Him…

It would be madness to go far away

it would be madness no more to see
His face in me…

Neither temple nor mosque

nor puja nor bakrid,
each clod of earth
—the earth I tread
is Kashi and Mecca
each instant is the shining joy
of my Beloved…

Anonymous
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 199

O my Beloved
if the fire of Your love
can burn without me
let us part!
There, at once…
… I go away!

Whirlwinds of dust
noisy bazaars
furrows of embers burning
hard distances of roads—
broken with fatigue, I walk…

O King of my heart
when You thirst for love
You will know how to go after me
and find me
That is why
I have become a wanderer
on Your road
for You
— nameless
— dust!

Anonymous
 ■ Mystic Songs ■ 200

May blessing be!

I am an empty vessel!

When You swim in the pond

I lean against Your breast
my head turns upon Your heart
my Beloved!

Those who are full vessels

You place upon the bank
You carry them into Your house
useful for water…

But I, I swim with You

I breathe to the rhythm of Your joy
Your arms of love embrace me
hold me close against You.

Drunken I give myself up

to the waves of the stream
to the waves of Your love
My Love!

Anonymous
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 201

The road towards You is blocked

by so many temples and mosques!
I indeed hear Your call clearly
O my Beloved
but I cannot move forward
gurus and murshids,
bristling, guard the passage…

What a dream—
to plunge into Your current
coolness of my blood
but flames arise
to devour the world.
Where is Your peace, O my Master?
Your message of unity
is covered with ashes…

Heavy the chains

that close Your door
Puranas, Koran, rosaries
robes the color of fire
sow on the dusty roads
the hard seeds of pride…
Madan moans in pain…

Madan Fakir
 ■ Mystic Songs ■ 202

The one who has dived into divine love

my heart quickly recognizes
when he visits me!
A veil of tears shines in his eyes
the shadow of a smile lights his face
— depth of warm tenderness
— ecstasy of infinite love
a light is kindled in the lotus of his heart
Ah! the tide of his desires is drunk up by
the sand dunes
but overcoming all the barriers
the river of his love has flooded everything…

Anonymous
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 203

If in my cage
the mysterious bird
which comes whence… I know not
going whither… I know not
by chance would enter
quickly I would capture it!
I wish so much
that I could fasten
to one of its feet
the golden chain
of my heart…

Anonymous
 ■ Mystic Songs ■ 204

In the Ocean of love

where every form weds Beauty—
I saw in a flash
Him who lives hidden in my heart…
a stream of burning
molten gold…
What joy! What desire!
I ran to meet Him
to seize Him in my arms.

Alas! I found nothing…

In vain, now, I search

I have scoured the thickets
Where are You?
I am anxious
I wander like a madman
Where are You?
A fire consumes me
In the depths of myself
which devours me
which will never be extinguished…

Anonymous
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 205

… beneath the waters

little by little the boat is sinking
but take the risk
the last…
O boatman, drunk with joy
good fellow on your leprous boat!

Cling to the mast

sail with high prow
Courage! have no fear…

Wretched broken boat

cradle of the waves
the greedy spray caresses you
go! the eternal spell
in the bewitchment of Time!

Look, there, before you…

… the way out!

Sudharam Baul
 ■ Mystic Songs ■ 206

10

O my heart
before whom will you prostrate yourself
to whom will you say ―my guru‖?

He is there beside you

He is there all around you
He lives in every thing…

The guru is the rice in your bowl

the guru is your soul‘s passion.

When your heart weeps

the guru is its tears…

Anonymous
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 207

11

Close to my house
there is a city of crystal.
There lives
my mysterious neighbor.
Never have I seen His face
for even a single moment
— His radiant face!

If my neighbor
had touched me only once
my death anguish
would have vanished…
But I, poor Lalan, and He,
though we live under the same sky
are separated by an immense void.
Millions of leagues,
alas, under the same sky,
separate us…

Lalan Fakir
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 208

12

Beaten by the waves

laid low by the hard winds:
O Murshid
I take refuge in You!

In the west the storm growls

the clouds pile up in masses,
my battered boat trembles,
its masts are broken:
O Murshid
I take refuge in You!

The waves onrushing

crush the deck;
all that I treasured
like precious gems
has gone adrift:
O Murshid
I take refuge in You!

Anonymous
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 209

13

At the turn of the river

a call rang out,
the call of an unknown Voice:
―Stop, boatman!
Make your boat fast,
rest a moment…‖

―No! No! I cannot stop

the current carries me away…‖

In this endless voyage

what must become of me?...
The eddies tug my boat away
and my desire is in the call…
O Master, I beg You,
take the helm!

Drive out the anguish

of Your suffering Jaga
Lord…

Jaga, the boatman

 ■ Mystic Songs ■ 210

14

To Krishna

You and I dance

O my King
in the mad gaiety of Holi
— ecstasy of our souls.

Am I alone
bitten by desire?
No! my Adored,
You also languish with it!

To give Your joy

You need my smiles;
that Your song may be known
I must be its flute!

So that my whole body may be

the cradle of Your delight,
O my Adored.
Now it is for You
to kneel before me—
come beg my love…

Anonymous
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 211

15

O my Beloved
who in Your heart
feel all the pain of mine,
why, tell me, does my unquiet soul
aspire to Your sweet peace?
My secret soul, evenly,
slowly, pursues its aim…

But my impatient heart

is troubled,
bursts into heavy sobbing…
The soul shudders,
the bitter tears flow.
―Come, my loved one, come…‖
is the seductive call!

The tide attracts the waters,

the sea, the source of rivers.
So does the heart‘s poison
become pure nectar…

Anonymous
 ■ Mystic Songs ■ 212

16

―Lord, show me, I beg,

how in the same man
guru and lover are but one?‖

―If you live pure and sober,

experiencing divine delights,
some day, you will know it…
Lock after lock
defends the dwelling place of Darkness
in the inmost depths of being,
—and beyond.
But if the dazzling light of day
dawns in the waves of ecstasy
the luminous Darkness vanishes…‖

At the threshold of the ninth dwelling

—O inconceivable mystery,
must I reveal to you
the Mother of mothers
the majestic, eternal Mother?...

Lalan Fakir
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 213

17

Is my Beloved
a creaking axle
forever grinding and moaning?
Oh! speak to me of Your silence,
my Master, my Adored,
show me the path of silence
leading
to the Lotus of the Void…

The moon and the stars

forever ride the sky
—soundlessly
in Your silence…

Anonymous
 ■ Mystic Songs ■ 214

18

The lotus of the heart

blooms far from here
mysterious
hidden by time‘s ages.
It is this that has made a slave of You
and of me also, my Adored One!

This lotus blossoms

again and again
deathless flowering,
the honey flowing from it
an intoxicating sweetness,
the bee that eats it
can no longer fly away…
It is this that has made a slave of You
and of me also, my Adored One!

Neither You nor I have any wish

to tear ourselves away from this embrace!
Go away if You can, my Adored One!

Anonymous
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 215

19

Take the lamp from the Master‘s hands

and go down into the black abyss
awaken your senses
to the yoga of the ―I‖ made free
for you this will be
the dawn of the supreme mystery.

Beatific visions
will fill your heart
beyond the measurable
there where the worlds dance
there where blooms the lotus of the
thousand petals
in whose halo
you will know
the mystic union of delights.

Between the existent

and the non-existent
the space is love…

Anonymous
 ■ Mystic Songs ■ 216

20

How my heart has melted

I know not…
in the ecstasy of life
in the ecstasy of death
my heart is drunk with joy…

O Beloved
make me not languish in vain
I no longer expect anything
from tomorrow
nor from yesterday
Your little bells ring day and night
O miracle! I am bewildered…

Where is the infinite sea?

Where is the eddying river?
If you would know
the secret tide of life that makes them one,
marry your heart with your eyes.

Then in you
the eyes of your heart
will see the game of God.

Ishan Jugi, the Weaver

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 217

21

Oh! no one has ever found

who He is
—a fool of God—
who wanders from door to door…
—a beggar of love—
going from door to door…

Anonymous
 ■ Mystic Songs ■ 218

22

O my spirit, rest anchored in yourself

Knock not at any door.
If you go deep into yourself
you will find what you seek.

God, the true philosopher‘s stone

who transmutes all desires
dwells in your heart
the most beautiful of jewels.

How many pearls and diamonds

pave round about
the antechamber of your heart‘s pavilion!

Anonymous
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 219

23

I cannot open my heart to you

O my friend
because my lips are sealed…
in life‘s grayness
how can I persevere
if the Beloved
who knows all my suffering
stays so far from me?

Him who is my heart‘s beloved

I would know at a glance
But shall I ever see Him?
He passes in dreams of light
He plunges in the deeps of joy
skillful boatman
of the high tides of divine love.

Anonymous
 ■ Mystic Songs ■ 220

24

Blessed am I
if the three worlds are Your flute!
I am the wind that plays on it
the breath of Yours lips.
What harm, truly,
if at each note I die!
Under Your fingers my notes fall one by one
singing of good, of bad
pouring out pleasure and pain.
I am the song of dawn and of evening
and of the dead of night
but if it pleases You
I can sing also
the smiles and showers of spring.
If I am the instrument of Your song
what else could I desire?
What harm, truly,
if at each note I die?

Ishan Jugi, the Weaver

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 221

25

In my soul
I hear a voice calling me
who is He—devoured with impatience
who caresses my two hands?
who is He—with flickering eyelids,
who seeks to take me in His arms?

My heart quivers
I cannot go forward
He who calls me is there…
His voice moves me
His song repeats without end
―Where are you going?
Oh! come, come to Me…‖

In order not to hear Him

I fled…
But I walk like a blind man
—fog
in the night I walk…
Then turning back
there, in my heart,
I saw Him waiting for me
there, ready to welcome me…

Manamohan Bāul
 ■ Mystic Songs ■ 222

26

And the Bāuls came

they danced
they sang

And they disappeared

in the mist…
and the house was left empty
empty… the house…
in the mist…

[The song murmured by Shri Ramakrishna shortly before he died.]

 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 223

About the Author

Shrimat Anirvan (8 July 1896—31 May 1978) had mastered the Astādhyayi
of Pānini at a very early age. After completing his formal education he
renounced the world and joined the Kapilamukh Ashram at Jorhat (in
Assam) founded by his Guru Swami Nigamananda Paramahamsa where
he was given Sannyasa and he became Nirvanananda Saraswati. But after a
few years he dropped the ochre robes and changed his name to Anirvan by
which he became known to the world at large. He spent a number of years
in Lohaghat (Almora) where Madame Lizelle Reymond, a Swiss spiritual
seeker, joined him and literally took him to the West through her books My
Life with a Brahmin Family and To Live Within. He later shifted to Shillong in
Assam and finally to Kolkata where he spent his last years. His first book
was a Bengali translation of Sri Aurobindo‘s The Life Divine which was
described as a ―living translation‖ by Sri Aurobindo himself and was
published in two volumes between 1948 and 1951. Another sister-
publication, Yoga-Samanvaya-Prasanga, based on Sri Aurobindo‘s The
Synthesis of Yoga, was published in 1961. According to Ram Swarup: ―In
translating Sri Aurobindo‘s works, he was paying his debt to an elder
brother and old friend from another life, as Shri Anirvan once said.‖ But
the centre of his studies was the Vedas on which he acquired a rare
mastery over the years. His other published works include his magnum
opus, Veda Mimāmsā, (published in three volumes), Upanisad-Prasanga
(three volumes on Īsa, Aitareya and the Kena), Gitānuvacana (three volumes),
Vedānta Jijñāsā and Pravacana (four volumes) to name a few.
 ■ About Lizelle Reymond ■ 224

About Lizelle Reymond

―It was 1944-53. I spent these nine years in Kurmachal. It was a

time when I had just finished writing ‗Dibyajeeban‘ and was
penning down the interpretations of Vedas. Glimpses from my
thoughts then, are strewn in few of my letters written at that
time. Reymond has an ample collection of those letters at her
disposal. Her power to receive is magnanimous. I haven‘t seen
anyone in my land like her. … She, like Nivedita has staked her
life for India. It‘s more than 40 years she is carrying out her
mission to propagate the message of India in Europe. She is an
indigent nun but unwavering in the mission of her life.‖ –
Sri Anirvan

Lizelle Reymond is not so much known in India now. But there was a
time in the mid of twentieth century when India was witnessing the
awakening of the new age, the renaissance of life, Reymond had played a
vital role. Her first and foremost memorable work was to write the
biography of Sister Nivedita.
Based on those references, her life can be sorted out into four
chronological phases. On 30th June, 1899, poet and philosopher Lizelle
Reymond was born in Saint Aimeyer, Switzerland. She passed her
childhood days in Neuchatel.
Lizelle Reymond joined the League of Nations as a librarian in the year
1920. She got her academic degree in library administration from Columbia
University, U.SA. in the year 1928-29. Her other major job was to organise
lecture sessions propagandizing the activities of the League of Nations. She
was in the service till 1940, the first half of Second World War.
Lizelle Reymond as a librarian was attending an educational workshop
being organised by the Columbia University. And there she met Smt.
Sarojini Naidu, the poet and eminent personality and a disciple of
Mahatma Gandhi. They used to discuss and converse on varied issues and
this led Reymond to take interest in Indian religion and philosophy. Later
on Reymond got introduced to Smt. Vijaylakshmi Pandit, one of the
members of League of Nations and Acharya Jagadish Chandra Bose, the
great Indian physicist and biologist.
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 225

A few years later Lizelle met Jean Herbert, a scholar famous for his
translation of books on Indian philosophy. Their commonality of interest
pushed them to work together. And later on they got married.
Reymond and her husband reached India for the first time in 1937 in
order to deeply explore the Indian culture and heritage. They visited a
number of religious institutions and ashrams to understand and learn from
religion and philosophy from gurus and acharyas. To name a few gurus
with whom they went into dialogue were—Swami Ramdas, Sri Raman
Maharshi, Anandamoyee Ma and monks of the Ramakrishna Mission in
Kolkata.
Reymond and Herbert returned to Europe after few years. They planned
to organise lecture-study sessions, write essays and translate all the
collated materials on Indian philosophy and religion that they had
gathered from the different gurus of different religious orders of India.
Their objective was to introduce the western world to the lives, religious
thoughts, beliefs and teachings of these religious gurus and propagate the
same. They could assemble few more people in order to carry out the work.
Under the leadership of Reymond the biographies of great Acharyas of
India were written in French. Their connections with the ashrams in India
were severed temporarily due to the Second World War.
Lizelle Reymond was selected to write the biography of Sister Nivedita
while she was busy with her translation work. The first French edition of
Nivedita‘s biography Nivedita –Fille de l’Inde (Nivedita, the daughter of
India) was published in 1945. Later on with the help of Catherine Woods,
Reymond translated the book into English under the title of The Dedicated:
A Biography of Nivedita (Lotus Light, 1953). Jean Herbert wrote the editorial
of this book. This English edition was translated into Bengali by Narayani
Debi in 1955 and was published in Basumati Patrika. This book named
Nivedita has left a mark in the pages of history as the first biography on
Nivedita in Bengali language.
Among those who were permitted to come to India after the end of
Second World War, Lizelle Reymond was one of them. India had won
independence then. She passed her days in Kolkata for two years rendering
services and other duties along with the Ramakrishna Mission. Then she
left for a small village in Almora in Kurmachalpradesh at the foothills of
Himalayas. Her journey of life took a new turn.
There Lizelle met the master of an ancient Brahmin family. This sudden
encounter as if opened the way for Reymond to traverse the profound path
 ■ About Lizelle Reymond ■ 226

of sadhana upheld by India through ages. In the later days Reymond wrote
a book based on this homestay experience – My Life with a Brahmin Family (
Flammerion, Paris, 1957).
Reymond had met Sri Anirvan while staying at Almora. One day a sage
came to stay for a few days with the Brahmin family at their home (Shanti-
Bhavan). Reymond came to know that he was a pandit and well conversant
in the Vedas. His ashram lay in the Sonepur region at the foothills of the
Himalayas. He has translated the Veda mantras and has also written a
commentary on the Vedas. He was pure and innocent as a child. His name
was Satyakam. (Sri Anirvan was known by this name).
On meeting Sri Anirvan , it awakened to Reymond, that she was on the
verge of fulfilling her aspiration. She found her mentor in Sri Anirvan who
will help her to tread the inaccessible path of spiritual practise step by step.
So when Sri Anirvan welcomed her to stay in his ashram for a few days,
she gladly accepted it without any hesitation.
Reymond returned to Kolkata via Almora after staying for a few days in
the ashram. And she returned with a hope to pursue a new way of living
and sadhana. As instructed by her mentor she returned to the ashram after
the monsoon. It was in 1949. Then for the coming four years she practiced
under the spiritual guidance of her Guru. She was busy with her passion
for writing too at the same time.
It was the beginning of 1951. Reymond was planning to form an ashram
with people from different regions of India as envisioned by Guru. It
would be meant for empowering women. Though the work was started by
Reymond as planned but it didn‘t reach to fruition because of
circumstantial reasons. At that time Sri Anirvan decided to shift to a new
ashram in Shillong, Assam and advised Reymond to return to Europe.
The teacher had thought that the learning of his disciple had been
complete. So her place for accomplishing her mission would be Europe.
Reymond had mastered the austere practices, the sadhana and the details of
Sāmkhya philosophy from her Guru. Now it‘s her turn to spread the
teachings to the seekers. This was her Guru‘s order. In this way Reymond
acquired the shelter of another magnanimous life. Her experience of the life
and the way of living in Almora has been covered by Reymond in her
book, To Live Within (Mont-Blanc, Geneva, 1969).
At the end of 1952, Reymond left Almora and reached the plains. She
went to Puducherry. After spending a few days there she returned to
 ■ Letters from a Baul ■ 227

Europe in August 1953. A book written by Yogi G. I. Gurjief accompanied

Reymond in her journey.
Reymond had left India for Europe but she was in regular contact
through correspondences with Sri Anirvan till his death on 31st May,1978).
She used to come to meet her Guru and consult him in making necessary
corrections of her manuscripts. The English translations of the book To Live
Within were published in 1971 and 1978. Later on Sri Aurobindo
Pathmandir published a book named Letters from Baul collating essays from
To live Within and other works.
A new phase of life had started for Reymond. On reaching Geneva she
had contacts with the disciples of Gurjief as instructed by her Guru. She
collaborated with Madam Jean de Salsmann and worked with her till her
death in 1990. Reymond founded a sangha in Geneva in 1956 and
administered it till her death on 22nd June 1994.

THE END