My Mother's Death and the Mystic Amulet

chapter two my mother's death and the mystic amulet my mother's greatest desire was the marriage of my elder brother ah when i behold the face of ananta's wife i shall find heaven on this earth i frequently heard mother express in these words her strong indian sentiment for family continuity i was about eleven years old at the time of Anantha's betrothal. Mother was in Calcutta, joyously supervising the wedding preparations. Father and I alone remained at our home in Bareilly, in northern India, whence father had been transferred after two years at Lahore.

I had previously witnessed the splendour of nuptial rites for my two elder sisters roma and uma but for ananta as the eldest son plants were truly elaborate from distant homes she lodged them comfortably in a large newly acquired house at fifty amherst street everything was in readiness the banquet delicacies the gay throne on which brother was to orchestras the professional entertainers the priests for the ancient rituals father and i was awakened by a peculiar flutter of the mosquito netting over the bed the flimsy curtains parted and i saw the beloved form of my mother your father her voice was only a whisper take the first available train at four o'clock this morning rush to calcutta if you would see me the wraith-like figure vanished father father mother is dying I sobbed out the fatal tidings.

Never mind that hallucination of yours. Father gave his characteristic negation to a new situation. Your mother is in excellent health. If we get any bad news, we shall leave tomorrow. You shall never forgive yourself for not starting now. Anguish caused me to add bitterly. Nor shall I ever forgive you. The melancholy morning came with explicit words mother dangerously ill marriage postponed come at once father and i left distractedly A train thundered toward us, looming with telescopic increase. From my inner tumult, an abrupt determination arose to hurl myself on the railroad tracks.

Already bereft, I felt of my mother. I could not endure a world suddenly barren to the bone. I loved mother as my dearest friend on earth. Her solacing black eyes had been my surest refuge in the trifling tragedies of childhood does she yet live i stopped for one last question to my uncle him when we reached our calcutta home it was only to confront the stunning mystery of many mothers see in my gaze the two black eyes the last beautiful eyes thou seekest soon after the crematory rites for the well-beloved.

Early every morning I made a pathetic memorial pilgrimage to a large shioli tree which shaded the smooth green-gold lawn before our bungalow. In poetical moments I thought that the white shioli flowers were strewing themselves with a willing devotion over the grassy altar mingling tears with the dew i often observed a strange other-worldly light emerging from the dawn intense pangs of longing for god assailed me i felt powerfully drawn to the himalayas one of my cousins fresh from a period of travel in the holy hills, visited us in Bareilly.

I listened eagerly to his tales about the high mountain abode of yogis and swamis. [1] number 2.1 Let us run away to the Himalayas. My suggestion one day to Dwarka Prasad, the young son of our landlord in Bareilly, fell on unsympathetic ears. He revealed my plan to my elder brother, who had just arrived to see father. Instead of laughing lightly over this impractical scheme of a small boy, Ananta made it a definite point to ridicule me. Where is your orange robe? You can't be a swami without that.

But I was inexplicably thrilled by his words. They brought a clear picture of myself roaming about india as a monk perhaps they awakened memories of a past life in any case i began to see with what natural ease i would wear the garb of that anciently founded monastic order a love for god descending with avalanchic force my companion was only partly attentive to the ensuing The only pilgrimage permitted me was the customary one at dawn to the Sheole tree. My heart wept for the lost mothers, human and divine.

The rent left in the family fabric by mother's death was irreparable. Father never remarried during his nearly forty remaining years. Assuming the difficult role of father-mother to his little flock, he grew noticeably more tender, more approachable. With calmness and insight, he solved the various family problems. After office hours, he retired like a hermit to the cell of his room, practicing Kriya Yoga in a sweet serenity. Long after mother's death, I attempted to engage an English nurse to attend to details that would make my parents' life more comfortable.

But father shook his head. Service to me ended with your mother. His eyes were remote with a lifelong devotion. I will not accept ministrations from any other woman. Fourteen months after mother's passing, I learned that she had left me a momentous message. Ananta was present at her deathbed and had recorded her words. Although she had asked that the disclosure be made to me in one year, my brother delayed. He was soon to leave Bareilly for Calcutta to marry the girl mother had chosen for him the indian custom whereby parents choose the life partner his side mukunda i have been reluctant to give you strange tidings ananta's tone held a note of resignation home.

But in any case you are bristling with divine ardour. When I captured you recently on your way to the Himalayas, I came to a definite resolve. I must not further postpone the fulfilment of my solemn promise. My brother handed me a small box and delivered Mother's message. Let these words be my final blessing, my beloved son Mukunda. Mother had said, The hour is here when I must relate a number of phenomenal events following your birth. I first knew your destined path when you were but a babe in my arms.

I carried you then to the home of my guru in Benares. Almost hidden behind a throng of disciples, I could barely see Lahiri Mahasaya as he sat in deep meditation while i patted you i was praying that the great guru take notice and bestow a blessing he opened his eyes and beckoned me to approach. The others made a way for me. I bowed at the sacred feet. My master seated you on his lap, placing his hand on your forehead by way of spiritually baptizing you. Little mother, thy son will be a yogi.

As a spiritual engine, he will carry many souls to God's kingdom. My heart leaped with joy to find my secret prayer granted by the omniscient Guru. Shortly before your birth, he had told me you would follow his path. Later, my son, your vision of the great light was known to me and your sister Roma, as from the next room we observed you motionless on the bed your little face was illuminated your voice rang with iron resolve as you spoke of going to the him singular event in my life brought further confirmation an event which now impels my death-bed message it was an interview with a sage in the panjab while our family was living in lahore one morning the servant came precipitantly into my room mistress a strange sadhu is here beginning of footnote number two point three an anchorite one who pursues a sadhana or path of spiritual discipline that he see the mother of mukunda these simple words struck a profound chord within me i went at once to greet the visitor bowing at his feet i sensed that before me was a true man of god mother he said the great masters wish you to know that your stay on earth will not be long Your next illness shall prove to be your last.

Beginning of Footnote No. 2.4 When I discovered by these words that mother had possessed secret knowledge of her short life, I understood for the first time why she had been insistent on hastening the plans for Ananta's marriage. Though she died before the wedding, her natural maternal wish had been to witness the rites. There was a silence during which I felt no alarm, but only a vibration of great peace. Finally he addressed me again. You are to be the custodian of a certain silver amulet. I will not give it to you today to demonstrate the truth in my words.

The talisman shall materialize in your hands tomorrow as you meditate. On your deathbed, you must instruct your eldest son Ananta to keep the amulet for one year and then to hand it over to your second son. Mukunda will understand the meaning of the talisman from the great ones. He should receive it about the time he is ready to renounce all worldly hopes and start his vital search for God. When he has retained the amulet for some years, and when it has served its purpose, it vanish even if kept in the most secret spot it shall return whence it came i proffered alms to the saint beginning of footnote number two point five a customary gesture of respect to sadhus footnote number two point five and bowed before him in great reverence not taking the offering he departed with a blessing the next evening as i sat with folded hands in meditation a silver amulet materialized between my palms even as the sadhu had promised it made itself known by a cold smooth touch.

I have jealously guarded it for more than two years, and now leave it in Ananta's keeping. Do not grieve for me, as I shall have been ushered by my great Guru into the arms of the Infinite. Farewell, my child, the Cosmic Mother will protect you. A blaze of illumination came over me with possession of the amulet many dormant memories awakened the talisman round and anciently quaint was covered with sanskrit characters past lives who were invisibly guiding my steps. A further significance there was, indeed, but one does not reveal fully the heart of an amulet.

How the talisman finally vanished amidst deeply unhappy circumstances of my life, and how its loss was a herald of my gain of a guru, cannot be told in this chapter. But the small boy, thwarted in his attempts to reach the Himalayas, daily travelled far on the wings of his amulet.