A similar grading of sadhanas can be found in verses 4-8 of Upadesa Undiyar. It is worth noting that Bhagavan states here that karma yoga does not in itself lead to Self-realisation: it is merely a preliminary step that equips its practitioners to follow one of the other three paths. It is also worth noting that Gandhi did not reach his high spiritual state by karma yoga: as Bhagavan remarked several times, he attained it by surrender to the divine. Gandhi was an ardent Ram bhakta who spent his whole life chanting the name of Ram. After he had been shot, he instinctively chanted ‘Ram Ram’ with his final breath. Papaji, who was briefly an attendant of his in the 1940s, has recorded the following extraordinary story that shows the depth of Gandhi’s absorption in the divine:
Papaji
He [Gandhi] was a great saint. I could see that just by looking at his body. I didn’t need to look into his eyes. He had the most sattvic body I have ever seen. It was copper-coloured and on a subtle level it was glowing with the light of Brahman.
He had a beautiful body. The only body that I have seen that was as beautiful as his was the Maharshi’s. Both of their bodies used to shine.
I was once sitting with Gandhi when I heard the sound of ‘Ram Ram’ coming from him. His lips were not moving so I looked to see where the sound was coming from. As I focused on the source of the sound, I realised that it was emanating from his body. The sound was coming out of the pores of his skin. He didn’t need to repeat the name anymore. It was going on continuously inside him and flowing outwards through his skin. (Nothing Ever Happened, volume two, pages 298-99)
Gandhi attained his high state through surrender. Once he was established in that state, the power of the Self took charge of his life. In Bhagavan’s case the power of the Self took him to Tiruvannamalai and a life of silence and relative inactivity; in Gandhi’s case the power used him to bring about a relatively peaceful political revolution. As Bhagavan once remarked, with reference to himself and Gandhi:
Our business is to keep quiet. If we enter into all these [political activities], people will naturally ask, and justifiably, ‘Why is he interfering in all these instead of keeping quiet?’ Similarly if Mahatma Gandhi keeps quiet leaving aside all his activities, they will ask, ‘Why is he keeping quiet instead of engaging in all these activities?’ He must do what he has come for. We must do what we have come for. (Day by Day with Bhagavan, 2nd February, 1946)
I am adding an article here that was published in 1981 in The Mountain Path, pp. 76-77. It explains and clarifies Gandhi’s attitude to Ramanama, repetition of the name of Rama. It was written by Prof. K. Swaminanathan, who in those days was editing both The Mountain Path and Gandhi’s Collected Works.
Gandhiji and Ramanama
Gandhiji’s repeated reference to the efficacy of Ramanama [repetition of the name of Rama as a mantra] as an unfailing remedy for all ills, physical, mental and moral, deserves careful study on the part of orthodox Hindus as well as of rationalists who dismiss all mantras as mere superstition. Why was Ramanama Gandhiji’s chosen mantra, and how could it possibly perform all the miracles that this sensible, practical man persistently claimed that it could?
Prof. K. Swaminathan
Of all the Hindu Gods, each of whom stands for some special psycho-spiritual reality, Sri Rama is the one outstanding exemplar of normal human dharma, the most attractive and popular model of heroic goodness in family and social relations. Gandhiji was convinced that there was no conflict between moksha [liberation] and dharma [the performance of social duties in an ethical and righteous way], and that the bliss of moksha came unsought by the voluntary practice of dharma. Hence, the one sole value which we must pursue with all our strength in all our activities is dharma, which should govern artha [the acquisition of wealth by righteous means] and kama [the happiness derived from sensual enjoyments] and is bound ultimately to ripen into moksha, the timeless bliss which is both the cause and consequence of normal, human conduct.
Because Gandhiji accepted the sovereignty of dharma in the public sphere as in private life, he dared to dream of a free India as Ramarajya, a state where righteousness would prevail by the free choice of its citizens. Though Gandhiji was well aware of the transcendent power of Shiva, the embodiment of pure awareness, and also of the infinite charm of Sri Krishna, the Master of Yoga, the God he recommended for universal acceptance by the masses as well as the elite, by others as well as Hindus, was God under the name of Rama.
From the very beginning the Mahatma’s religion was the religion of a poet rejoicing in the beauty of both goodness and truth, and it remained so till the very end. Though he had outgrown literal belief in the Ramayana story, the spell of Rama’s figure on his imagination remained. Speaking at a meeting of missionaries in London in September, 1931, he said that he could not adore God as God.
‘To me,’ he said, ‘that name makes no appeal, but when I think of Him as Rama, He thrills me. There is all the poetry in it.’
And a few years later he reminded an audience in Andhra Pradesh that the name of Rama had been familiar to the birds and animals and the very stones of India for thousands of years, and urged them to recite that name with such music that the birds would pause in their singing and the trees would bend their leaves to listen to the melody of that sweet name.
He made it clear, however, that this Rama whom he worshipped as God was not a historical or legendary figure, the son of Dasaratha and husband of Sita, but the eternal, the unborn Sat, the spiritual Being who belongs equally to all. Asserting that Ramanama and Omkar [the sound of Om] were identical, Gandhiji drew attention to the strengthening and the purifying power of the Name, which reminds us of the Supreme Being pervading and controlling the universe and also shining in every human heart, and guiding it from within. The utterance of Ramanama is not a substitute but an inspiration and incentive for right conduct; not a means of escape from our human and social responsibilities, but a call and an inspiration valiantly to accept and honestly to perform the duties that devolve on us as individuals and as citizens.
The rationalists’ opposition and our young people’s indifference to temples and mantras may stem from ignorance, but they derive much strength from the unworthy or hypocritical behaviour of many who proudly and pompously parade their love of Rama, but do not in their personal and social life practice the virtues which the name of Rama represents.
Every religion makes stern demands on the adults who profess it, even as it promises mother-like protection to the children born in it. Our approach to the mighty mantra of Ramanama and our application of it to concrete life situations should, according to Gandhiji, be a combination of jnana and karma, of wide-awake jnana and egoless action. In the recent past Sri Aurobindo, a staunch devotee of Sri Krishna, has set an example of strenuous yoga; Ramana Maharshi, a worshipper of Shiva, has prescribed self-enquiry as a dynamic means of enjoying and exercising even higher and wider awareness; and Gandhji, as a lover of Rama, pleads for the service of Daridra Narayana [God in the poor] as the dharma of today. All three hold out the hope that a time may yet come when the true value of sanatana dharma [the eternal truth, the original name of Hinduism] will permeate the whole of Indian life and govern our conduct, public as well as private, and that religions in this ancient land will no more be imprisoned in temples, mosques and churches, in doctrines and rituals.
It is idle to look to government or politicians to improve people and prepare the ground for the kingdom of righteousness. In a democratic polity is for the people to purify the politics and keep politicians straight. For this difficult but necessary task, for each one of us to perform our dharma or perish in the attempt, we need clarity of mind and courage of heart. To acquire and exercise these qualities, Gandhiji tells us, we should know how to tap and use the inexhaustible spiritual resources of our race. The lesson that he learned from Hanuman and Sita, and that he tried in turn to teach to us, is reliance on Ramanama.
Remembrance of the Name restores one to the centre of one’s moral being, where karma and jnana meet and where service of one’s neighbours becomes not only service of the world, but the sadhana of one’s growth from strength to strength in Being.
The birds pausing in their singing and the trees bending their leaves to listen to the melody of Ramanama may sound a bit fanciful, but it reminded me of an incident that an old devotee of Papaji told me about. In the 1950s the devotee was looking for a new house in Karnataka, and he asked Papaji to help him pick the right place for him and his family. After rejecting several suitable places, Papaji came to the next house to be viewed and lit up with delight.
‘Take this one,’ he said. ‘The sound of “Ram Ram” is coming out of the bricks.’
The previous owner had been a Ram bhakta and his devotional chanting had permeated even the fabric of his house with the sound of Ram.
