Sunday, January 5, 2020

Swami Vivekananda: The Cross-Bearer


                   The phrase ‘cross-bearer’ comes from the New Testament of the Bible. Jesus Christ carried[1] on his shoulders the heavy cross on which he was crucified. Since then the word cross has come to symbolize suffering, humiliation, and carrying the burden of human sufferings. Here the title refers to the sufferings Swami Vivekananda had to undergo in his life; and an attempt is being made to understand the significance of his struggles and conflicts- both physical and mental.

Youth and Discipleship:

                   Swami Vivekananda, then Narendranath, experienced the first wave of inner struggle during his youth, when his quest for Truth could not be satisfied by mere philosophies and intellectualism, or by the devotional practices of the Brahmo-Samaj. This search for the ultimate Truth became consuming fire- a question of life and death for him; and it was this which made him rush one day unannounced into a solitary retreat of Devendranath Tagore and ask pointedly: ‘Have you seen God?’
                   But this was only the beginning of his ‘jarring and clashing life’,[2] as the Swami himself labeled it. His father suddenly died when Narendranath was still a college student, and then followed one of the most difficult periods of his life. Being the eldest in the family, all the responsibility fell on his shoulders. Relatives turned into enemies, sued him in the court, and tried to snatch away a part of the ancestral property. He had to face dire poverty and unemployment, so much so that it became difficult to make both ends meet. He would often fast for two or three days at a stretch, and once he even fainted due to hunger and fatigue by the roadside.
                   This economic crisis was associated with psychological problems. His friends and relatives tried to tempt him, and women to dissuade him from the idealistic way of life. Some of them betrayed him, and even his nearest and dearest ones suspected his character. And the worst of all,  his faith in God, a factor which had sustained him through all these tribulations, was shaken.
                   Just when this hectic period of physical and mental agonies was passing away, Sri Ramakrishna, his Guru, the source of all his strength, solace and inspiration, the haven of his life, who loved him more than even his parents, left the mortal coil, plunging the young Narendranath further into an ocean of agony. He was left alone with the responsibility of the whole Brotherhood.
                   The period following was still worse. The Brotherhood shifted to a dilapidated house with cobras hissing around, and lived a life so severe that even ghosts would have run away. Narendranath’s mental state was correspondingly terrible, as he confessed in one of his letters: ‘ I had to stand between my two worlds. On the one hand, I would have to see my mother and brothers starve unto death; on the other, I believed that this man’s [i.e his Master’s] ideals were for the good of India and the world, and had to be preached and worked out. And so the fight went on in my mind for days and months. Sometimes I would pray for five or six days and nights together without stopping. Oh, the agony of those days! I was living in hell!’[3] Finally, however, Narendranath renounced, and became a monk; but the result was devastating for his family.

As a Wandering Monk:

                   Then followed the hard days of wandering- the Parivrajaka life- about which he said: ‘…sometimes one meal at nine in the evening, another time a meal at eight in the morning, another after two days, another after three days- and always the poorest and roughest thing….. and most of time walking, climbing snow peaks, sometimes ten miles of hard mountain climbing, just to get a meal…. For months and months I existed that way- of course it was telling on the health.’ [4] Yes, during the Parivrajaka days Swamiji fell ill several times, and on one occasion so seriously that he was almost dead.
                   Swamiji’s mind was by no means calm. All through the Parivrajaka period he was torn between two opposite urges, the one of retiring and remaining merged in the Absolute, and the other his responsibility both to his brother-disciples and of doing something for the degraded and spiritually sick masses of India. By the grace of Sri Ramakrishna he had experienced the supreme bliss of Nirvikalpa Samadhi. But it was taken away from him, and what could be a greater misfortune and torture than to be deprived of the supreme Bliss after once experiencing it? During this period he had to bear the loss of Balram Bose and Surendra Mitra, two of Sri Ramakrishna’s foremost householder disciples who supported the Baranagore Math. Then his sister committed suicide, which rudely awakened him to the great problems of Indian womanhood.

In America:

                   One would expect the end of his trials and tribulations after going to the United States, but that was not to be. Prior to the Parliament of Religions he suffered from cold in America due to lack of warm clothing. He was burdened with unaccustomed possessions needed for the travels, and being conspicuous in dress was hooted in the streets and at the World’s Fair grounds by young boys, who ran after him in amusement. He felt desperately lonely, for in the whole continent of North America, he had not one friend. Further, he was rudely shocked when he learnt that he had arrived too early for the Parliament, and that he might not be admitted as a delegate for want of proper credentials.
                   It is, however, well known how Swamiji became a world figure after his brilliant address on the first day of the Parliament of Religions. But, on the very first night of his triumph he wept like a child, for no longer would he remain the itinerant monk, no more would there be the quiet, which of all things he loved most. It was to be strenuous, ceaseless labour, involving terrible demands upon his time and personality.
                   In the West Swamiji no longer suffered from any material wants; but in spite of popularity, he was always miserable, because his heart was bleeding for the down-trodden masses of India. Even before coming to America, shaking with emotion Swamiji had told Swami Turiyananda: ‘…. my heart has expanded very much, and I have learnt to feel. Believe me, I feel intensely indeed.’[5] Even much after his return from the West he was heard to him the song of Mirabai - ‘Oh, nobody understands my sorrow!’- in such pathetic tone that even stones would melt.
                   Swamiji’s outspokenness aroused the bitter enmity of the Christian Missionaries and fanatic Christians, who began to vilify him both openly and in private; and some of the Indian delegates to Parliament also joined hands with them. Moreover, he had to face more powerful enemies in the so-called free thinkers, including the atheists, materialists, agnostics, rationalists, and scholars well-versed in Western philosophy and science; and it was an uphill task for him to remove their ignorance, superstition, and perverted ideals about religion in general, and Hinduism in particular.
                   In the West, on three different occasions he was almost in the jaws of death either due to the malicious actions of his opponents or by accident. Once in America, an attempt was made to poison him; while in England, a bull chased him and his party; and to protect a lady who had collapsed, he had faced the charging bull squarely. On another occasion while wandering in the Alps, he almost slipped from a precipice which would have meant instantaneous death.

The Days of Hardships in India:

                   The period of two years which Swamiji spent in India between his first and second visits to the West was one of physical and mental torture. He had written to Mary Hale, ‘The last two years have been specially bad. I have been living in mental hell.’[6] He worked very hard, even at the cost of his health for the masses of India; but the inability of the Indian masses to respond actively to his call, and the opposition from the orthodox Brahmins, Brahmo Samajists and Christian Missionaries had been very discouraging to him.
                   Nor was it easy for Swamiji to convert his brother-disciples to his ideas. The difficulty he encountered in convincing Swami Turiyananda to go the West can be cited as the best example: Throwing his arms around Swami Turiyananda, Swamiji said weeping like a child: ‘Dear Haribhai, can’t you see me laying down my life inch by inch in fulfilling this mission of my Master till I have come to the verge of death! Can you look on without helping by relieving me of a part of my great burden?’[7]
                   Then the strenuous journey of Amarnath in the year 1898, in the severe cold, and the curse of fakir in Kashmir resulted in permanently damaging his health: and till the end of his life, he always suffered from asthma, diabetes, repeated swelling of the feet, and so on.

Meditation on Death:

                   But the climax of Swamiji’s stormy life was reached one day in the second week of September 1898, when he mediated upon the dark, the painful and the inscrutable aspect of the Reality, upon Death itself. His whole fame shook, a world-destroying tempest raged within him and he had the vision of Kali, the Mighty Destructress, the Terrible One.
                   Over and above this, financial difficulties in running the Organization constantly worried him. In addition, the work in England collapsed by the middle of 1897, and later on his ardent disciples like Mr. Sturdy and Miss Henrietta Muller deserted him. Even Sister Nivedita, his spiritual daughter, was going astray, and was not able to act up to his satisfaction. At the closing phase of his life he had had to suffer the loss of his brother-disciple Swami Yogananda, and his most faithful disciples, J.J. Goodwin and Capt. J.H. Sevier.

Significance of Suffering in Swamiji’s Life:

          Thus the life of Swami Vivekananda was one of continuous physical and mental sufferings. At no time during his whole life was he altogether free from them.
          Why should Swamiji, the foremost disciple of Sri Ramakrishna, the incarnation of the age, suffer so much? Swamiji himself has given the answer of this question. Speaking as a mystic, Swamiji said: ‘That which Sri Ramakrishna called “Kali”, took possession of my body and soul… That makes me work and work, and never lets me keep still or look to my personal comfort.’[8]
                   Swamiji was a saint of the highest order, and suffering in the life of saints is a sign of Divine grace which God gives only to His choicest few. Swamiji said once: ‘Suffering is the lot of the world’s best and bravest’[9], and ‘ I may have had Divine help- true; but oh, the pound of blood every bit of Divine help has been to me!!’[10]
                   According to Swamiji, ‘There are two sorts of persons in the world. The one- strong nerved, quiet, yielding to nature, not given to much imagination, yet good, kind, sweet, etc… they alone are born to be happy. There are others again with high-strung nerves, tremendously imaginative, with intense feeling…. For them there is no happiness…[They] will have to run between ecstasy and misery.’[11] And Swamiji was a person of this sort. Swamiji blamed his emotional nature for his suffering: ‘My mistakes have been great; but every one of them was from too much love. How I hate love! Would I never had any Bhakti!... my sister committed suicide…. And that weak heart flung me off from that prospect of peace!’[12]
                   Apart from his temperament, Swamiji seems to have had a liking for suffering. ‘It is a mistake to hold that with all men pleasure is the motive. Quite as many are born to seek pain. There can be bliss in torture, too.’[13] ‘In my sane moments I rejoice here; I am glad it is I, amongst others of nature’s sacrifices.’[14]
                   There can be a deeper reason for Swamiji’s sufferings. He was a Prophet, and to be able to deliver a message of universal applicability it was essential for him to experience personally various types of sufferings which human beings are liable to undergo. He was a saviour, born to redeem humanity. ‘The Cross’ not only signifies suffering and humiliation, but redemptive sacrifice also. Swamiji was born to bear the burden of the heavily laden willingly, lovingly and voluntarily; and thus save it from untold sufferings of this world. Sometimes during the last years of his life he exclaimed: ‘…. may I be born again and again, and suffer thousands of miseries so that I may worship the only God that exits, the only God I believe in, the sum total of all souls- and above all, my God the wicked, my God the miserable, my God the poor of all races, of all species, is the special object of my worship.’[15] And at another time he said: ‘Come ye that are heavy laden and lay all your burden on me, and then do whatever you like and be happy and forge that I ever existed.’[16]
                   A study of this aspect of Swamiji’s life is significant in various ways: Firstly, it demonstrates that both happiness and misery, good and evil are equally real, and according to Swamiji, both are aspects of the Divine. He said, ‘Learn to recognize the Mother as instinctively in evil, terror, sorrow and annihilation as in that which makes for sweetness and joy![17] Secondly, it shows that misery is a great teacher. ‘In studying the great characters the world has produced,’ Swamiji says, ‘….it would be found that it was misery that taught more than happiness, it was poverty that taught more than wealth, it was blows that brought out their inner fire more than praise.’[18] ‘Disease and misfortune come to do us good in the long run, although at the time we feel that we are submerged for ever.’[19] ‘[Suffering is the] discipline which breaks the dream [of the world]’[20] Thirdly, it reveals that those who want to help mankind must have a large heart, must learn to feel. ‘First, feel from the heart,’ Swamiji said:: ‘…..Feel, therefore, my would-be reformers, my would-be patriots! Do you feel?..... Does it make you restless? Does it make you sleepless? … Has it made you almost mad?’[21] And lastly, in the parting advice which Swamiji gave to his monastic disciples on the eve of his leaving for the West for the second time in the June of 1899, Swamiji characterized renunciation as ‘the love of death’. ‘Worldly people love life. The Sannyasin is to love death…. We must die, that is certain; let us die then for a good cause.’[22] According to Swamiji, the grace of the Divine Mother comes to him alone, who can love death. Aptly has he said:

                                      “ Who dares misery love,
                                           And hug the form of Death.
                                      Dance in Destruction’s dance,
                                           To him the Mother comes.[23]












[1] Cf, John 19:17
[2] Swami Nikhilananda, Vivekananda: A Biography, Mayavati: Advaita Ashram, 1971, p. 302
[3] The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda, Mayavati: Advaita Ashrama (hereafter Com. Works), VIII, 1971, p. 81
[4] Com. Works, VIII, p. 84
[5] His Eastern and Western Disciples, The Life of Swami Vivekananda, Mayavati: Advaita Ashrama (hereafter Life), 1974, p. 282
[6] Com. Works, VIII, p. 494
[7] Life, p. 646
[8] Life, p. 719
[9] Com. Works, VI, 1972, p. 419
[10] Com. Works, VI, p. 420
[11] Com. Works, VIII, p. 390
[12] Com. Works, VI, p. 420
[13] Life, p. 597
[14] Com. Works, VI, p. 419
[15] Com. Works, V. 1973, p. 137
[16] Com. Works, VII, 1972, p. 521
[17] Life, p. 597
[18] Com. Works, I, 1972, p. 27
[19] Letters of Swami Vivekananda, Mayavati: Advaita  Ashrama, 1970, p. 416
[20] Com. Works, VI, p. 419
[21] Com. Works, III, 1973, p. 225-26.
[22] Com. Works, III, p. 446
[23] Com. Works, IV, p. 384.