Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Sarada Devi: The Holy Mother

by Swami Nikhilananda

Reprinted with permission from Living Wisdom: Vedanta in the West edited by Pravrajika Vrajaprana, published by Vedanta Press: Hollywood, 1994, pages 252-258.

HOLY MOTHER, in a unique way, fulfilled the duties of wife, mother, and nun. There have been before in the world the ideal wife, the ideal mother, and the ideal nun, but a combination of the three in one person is rare indeed. Holy Mother was wedded to Sri Ramakrishna at the age of five, lived with him as long as he lived, and ministered to his physical needs in the best tradition of a Hindu wife. She was his companion in spiritual life. She demonstrated that wifely devotion and love are possible without demanding physical satisfaction from one's mate. In spire of her marriage she remained a nun, pure in body and mind, and in uninterrupted communion with God. Though she had no children of the flesh, she had many of the spirit. Like an earthly mother she looked after her disciples' physical comfort. But unlike an earthly mother she was totally unattached in her love and expected no return from it. Truly Sister Nivedita declared that Holy Mother was Sri Ramakrishna's last word on the ideal of Indian womanhood. But why of Indian womanhood alone? She can very well represent the universal ideal of womanhood.
Holy Mother's immaculate purity, her unceasing meditation and prayer, her all-embracing compassion and utter selflessness, endowed her with the delicacy and tenderness of a maiden, a subtle grace and quiet dignity, and with all guilelessness and simplicity.
Her innate motherliness put visitors at ease. To a person coming to her for the first time, she conveyed the feeling that she had been eagerly waiting for him. Holy Mother always inspired reverence but never a feeling of remoteness...
Sri Ramakrishna used to speak of two kinds of illumined persons. One consists of ordinary human beings who through the practice of spiritual disciplines attain the knowledge of Brahman and merge in the Supreme Spirit. They are no longer concerned with the activities of the transitory phenomenal world. The others are God-men, born perfect, who have a special message for humanity. After the realization of their true nature, they remain at the phenomenal level, working for the spiritual regeneration of their fellow creatures. God becomes manifest through God-men. The Infinite sings its melody through their finite minds and bodies. Hence the sport of God as man, the naralila, is so appealing. Reason cannot unravel this mystery, but the heart may enjoy it.
It is extremely difficult for ordinary men to recognize God when he is embodied as man. An apparent victim of hunger and thirst, pain and pleasure, hope and despair, sickness and fear, he weeps, laughs, and suffers without really losing awareness of his divine nature. In the God-man humanity blends with divinity. When living at the phenomenal level the God-man is alert about human affairs, possesses practical knowledge and realism, and observes the conventions of society. Side by side with divine ecstasies, he cultivates humility, magnanimity, ethical sensitivity, love, the spirit of service, modesty, and other similar traits in order to set a model for others. He also shows how one living in the world can rise above it and enjoy inner peace in the midst of life's turmoil and worry.
The life of Holy Mother is a demonstration of these facts. Though an embodiment of divinity, she identified herself of her own accord with the lives of her relatives, the people of her village, and her devotees. She rejoiced at the happiness of others and wept at their suffering. Purposely she often suppressed her true nature, because, as she said, "The excessive manifestation of divinity creates fear in the minds of devotees; they cannot feel intimate." Once a disciple spoke of her being the Divine Mother, and she said, "You always harp on that one theme. I say that I am your mother, and that does not satisfy you." Her language was simple and natural, and her conduct spontaneous and unostentatious. She never lost these characteristics, even while giving initiation or spiritual instruction. In her conduct she was always alert, remembering that in the future people would regard her as an ideal to follow...
Her brothers regarded her as their affectionate big sister, her nieces and nephews as their indulgent aunt, and her disciples as their mother. Many ladies, after visiting her, said that she was just like one of them. Yet she said to a disciple that, even in the midst of all her activities, by a mere wish she could remember her divine nature in a flash, and realize the world to be the playground of maya. If she was constantly conscious of her true self, how could she fulfill her mission?
How humble she was! Once when she was ill an ordinary priest was called in to perform some special worship for her recovery. After the ceremony she took the dust of his feet. When someone told her of his having a loose character, she remarked, "That may be. One must show respect for the brahminical garb. The Master was not born to break traditions."
Often she said to her disciples that she constantly prayed for the total effacement of her ego. And yet she once said openly: "I am the Primordial Power, the Mother of the Universe. I have assumed this body out of compassion for the world. I have been born in every epoch in the past; I shall be born, too, in the future."
She respected the traditions and norms of society. One notices here a difference between Holy Mother and Buddha and Shankara. Buddha repudiated the gods, religious rituals, the scriptures, and the caste system as obstacles to attaining the freedom of nirvana. Shankara accepted all these as preparatory disciplines for the knowledge of Brahman, which he said could be attained only by monks who renounced the world and went beyond rituals, worship, and social convention. Holy Mother, however, though practicing true renunciation, remained a householder and till the end of her life respected the gods, rituals, and social proprieties. She performed religious rites and showed veneration even to a minor deity such as the village goddess Simhavahini. Someone said to her, "Mother, why do you do that? Everything happens by your will alone." The Mother replied, "If you vow to worship gods and goddesses at the time of illness, you can be cured by their grace. Besides, everyone should get his due." Before she started on a trip she consulted the almanac for the auspicious day, according to the Hindu belief. She enjoyed listening to the reading of Hindu religious books.
Generally Holy Mother obeyed caste rules; but she often made exceptions in the case of her disciples, especially about food restrictions. In her opinion devotees of God belonged to a single caste, a spiritual family. About other social matters she used her discrimination and common sense and did not wantonly violate social standards. In most respects Holy Mother lived as a Hindu widow of the brahmin caste, though Sri Ramakrishna had assured her that he was not really dead.
An orthodox Hindu widow is not permitted to remarry and thus leads the austere life of a nun. This austerity is all the more rigorous in the case of a brahmin widow. She avoids such food, clothes, and ornaments that may stimulate her physical desires. Thus she is permitted to eat a full vegetarian meal at midday, but takes only fruit and milk at night. She cannot eat certain foods, such as onions or garlic. A widow in Bengal uses a white sari without a border, cuts her hair short, and gives up. all ornaments. Through these strict disciplines imposed on widows, the Hindu lawgivers constantly reminded them of the ideal of chastity, which is deeply ingrained in the Indian mind. They wanted widows to be living examples of simplicity, nonattachment, and the spirit of unselfish service...
Holy Mother observed some of these rules. Like a Hindu widow, she was a vegetarian, but again, unlike a Hindu widow, she did not cut her hair, wore gold bracelets, put on a sari with a narrow red border, and ate a light supper at night. On many occasions she did nor observe the pollution of food by touch, especially when some of her nonbrahmin women disciples touched her plate. She regarded all her disciples as her own children... For some young widows who were her disciples she relaxed the strict rules about food, saying to one of them, "What good will it do to torture the soul?" To another she said, "If the soul's craving for food is not satisfied, one commits an offense."
Holy Mother condemned the morbid passion for purity, especially regarding pollution by touch, that people show in the name of religious orthodoxy. But she never encouraged or condoned carelessness, and she disapproved of vanity.
Holy Mother was practical and realistic about mundane affairs. She learned to be so from Sri Ramakrishna at Kamarpukur after her marriage, and later at Dakshineswar. For example, she scolded some of her disciples for going on foot to Jayrambati from Koalpara on a stormy night and said, "This kind of rashness is not right." ...
One day Swami Vivekananda dismissed a servant for stealing money. The servant went to Holy Mother at the Udbodhan and said to her with tears in his eyes, "Mother, I am very poor and cannot manage my expenses with my small salary. I have a big family. That is why I acted that way. In the afternoon Swami Premananda came to her house, and the Mother said to him, "Look here, Baburam, this man is very poor. Being harassed by want he stole the money. But why should Naren scold him and send him away? You are all monks and do not realize the afflictions of householders. Take this servant back." When told that this might annoy Swami Vivekananda, she said with firmness: "Take him back; I am asking you to do so.
When Swami Premananda returned to the Belur Math with the servant, Swami Vivekananda said, "See what Baburam has done; he has brought back that fellow." But when he heard what the Mother had said, the Swami did nor utter another word and took him back.
Holy Mother highly disapproved of carelessness and waste. Once, after sweeping the courtyard at Jayrambati, someone threw the broom aside carelessly. She reprimanded the person, saying that the broom could have been treated a little more gently. Everything should be shown Proper respect. On another occasion, at the Udbodhan, she expressed her displeasure because an empty basket was thrown away by one of the inmates. She said to the monks that, being world-renouncers, they might not care for a trivial thing like a basket, but nevertheless it could have been preserved for some other useful purpose. One day she gave a disciple a special dish of food that she had prepared. The quantity was too great. He are what he could and was about to throw away the rest when the Mother asked him to give it to a poor neighbor. Afterwards she said to the disciple, "We should give everyone his due. What is nor edible for man, give to a cow; what is not edible for a cow, give to a dog; what is nor edible for a dog, throw into a lake for fish to eat. But never waste."
Holy Mother urged the monks to shun idleness, and she herself was intensely active both in Calcutta and at Jayrambati. Her life in both places generally followed the same pattern. She always got up at three in the morning, as was her habit during the Dakshineswar days, and did not retire before eleven o'clock at night. . . . At Jayrambati, where she was mistress of the house, she busied herself with various household activities and at the same time talked to her intimate attendants. When she was in good health she also took part in the more strenuous household duties, like scouring utensils, carrying water from the rank, or husking paddy. The Mother herself made the arrangements for the daily worship, such as gathering flowers, at which she was sometimes assisted by her nieces or devotees. After the worship she went into the kitchen and relieved the cook, who would then go out for her refreshment or to attend to any other personal needs. She herself cooked most of the food to be offered to the Master in the shrine. . . . In earlier days Holy Mother with her own hands served all the devotees their meals, and she herself ate only after they had finished eating. Sometimes she worked in the kitchen in the evening in order to relieve the cook from overwork.
One evening an attendant was reading a letter from a disciple to Holy Mother. It was full of eulogy and adoration.. After listening to it she remarked "Often I say to myself, I am but the daughter of Ram Mukherjee. Many of my contemporaries are still alive at Jayrambati. In what respect do I differ from them? Devotees come from unknown places and prostrate themselves before me. J am told that some of them are judges and some lawyers. Why should they come to me in this way?"
The answer to her query was given by herseif. Sne once said: "People call me the Divine Mother. I think, maybe they are right. How otherwise can one explain the strange things that have happened in my life?. . . If I say to myself that a certain thing should happen, the wish is always fulfilled."
There existed an extraordinary relationship between Sri Ramakrishna and Holy Mother. She often spoke of herself as his handmaid and instrument, as one of the many seekers who found refuge at his feet. When a devotee asked her advice she said, "I do not know anything. I repeat only what I have heard from the Master. Read The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna and you will know all you need." To another who asked her blessing she said, "The Master will bless you."
How often she asked her disciples to pray for her so that she might not have a trace of vanity! She repeatedly asked the devotees to cling to Sri Ramakrishna in order to avoid the pitfalls of life. One day a disciple, asked about his welfare, said that through her blessing he was well. "You all make the same mistake," she rebuked him. "Why do you bring me into everything? Can't you speak of the Master? Don't you see that everything happens by his will?" Regarding the Master she stated, "He is the Supreme God and the Supreme Goddess. He is the essence of all mantras and the embodiment of all deities." She carried Sri Ramakrishna's picture everywhere and worshiped it daily, seeing in it his living presence. Often she remarked that one should not make a distinction between the physical body and its shadow in a picture. She talked intimately with the Master and fed him in the picture. And yet she did not conceal the fact that she and the Master were identical and that there was no difference between them except in outer form.
Sri Ramakrishna, too, knew Holy Mother's nature. He spoke of her as the bestower of wisdom, as his own Shakti. Once, seeing Latu meditating in the Panchavati, he said to him, "You fool, the deity whom you are contemplating is working herself to death by scouring pots and pans." Here are a few other statements of his about her: "The Mother who is in the temple is the same as the mother who dwells in the nahabat [the small music tower where Holy Mother lived at the Dakshineswar temple]." "If she is displeased with a person, it is beyond even my power to protect him." "If she is angry she can destroy everything." "If anyone gives me an offering, I send it to the nahabat; otherwise, how will the giver attain liberation?" As the culmination of his spiritual practices, the Master formally worshiped Holy Mother as the Divine Mother of the universe.
Holy Mother has been described by such epithets as the Divine Mother, the Mother of the universe, Prakriti, Shakti or Power, Mahashakti or the Great Power, and Mahamaya or the Great Deluder. These epithets are not sentimental expressions but have a noetic meaning.... Like modern science, Hinduism describes Shakti or Energy as the creator of physical objects and the source of the universe. But according to science this inert and nonintelligent energy is a self-creating, self-preserving, and self-dissolving category. It does nor need extraneous help to project phenomena.
According to Hinduism, Shakti is the potency of Brahman and inseparable from it, like fire and its power to burn. The potency is unable to function by itself. Brahman which is existence, consciousness, and bliss, by irs mere presence impregnates Shakti, as it were. Thus names and forms are evolved. The why and wherefore of the infinite Brahman's becoming the manifold creation, or the One's becoming the many, or the Absolutes appearing as the relative, is a profound mystery which cannot be solved by the human mind. After projecting the universe, Shakti casts a spell on the creatures in order to perpetuate the creation. Hence she is called Mahamaya, the Great Deluder. The Creative Energy contains in her womb the seeds of creation and nourishes the creatures after giving birth to them. Finally, at the end of a cosmic cycle, she withdraws the universe into herself.
All women, in a sense, function as the Divine Energy. But her fullest manifestation is seen through the body and mind of a woman of unblemished character. Holy Mother was such a woman. Hence she is regarded as the Supreme Goddess or Great Power, a special manifestation of the Divine Energy. Once a devotee said to her that after her no one would worship the minor goddesses of the Hindu religion. She replied, "Why, they too are parts of me." Conscious of her divine nature, she kindled the sparks of spirituality in her disciples, accepted their worship, and gave them assurance of liberation. 

Swami Nikhilananda, a disciple of Sri Sarada Devi, founded the Ramakinishna-Vivekananda Center of New York in 1933, and remained its head until his death in 1973. Swami Nikhilananda translated the Upanishads, the Bhagavad Gita and other scriptures, and also wrote biographies of Sri Ramakrishna, Sri Sarada Devi, and Swami Vivekananda. The author of Hinduism: Its Meaning for the Liberation of the Spirit, and Man in Search of Immortality, Swami Nikhilananda also compiled Vivekananda: The Yogas and Other Works. His greatest literary contribution was his translation from the original Bengali into English of The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna.
"Sarada Devi: the Holy Mother" is an excerpt from the Vedanta and the West article, "Some Glimpses of Holy Mother" which appeared in the September-Octobers 1962 edition of Vedanta and the West.

Copyright © 1994 by Vedanta Press

Monday, July 30, 2012

The power of one - by Aamir Khan


What can I do alone? I am just one among 1.2 billion. Even if I change what good will it do. What about the rest? Who will change everyone? First get everyone else to change then I too will change. These are some of the most negative thoughts I have heard resonating all through my life. The story of Dhashrat Manjhi is a fitting reply to all these statements. It tells us what one man can achieve. It tells us about the power of one. It tells us that man can indeed move mountains.

Gehlor a small village in Bihar was surrounded by rocky mountains. The villagers had to travel more than 50 kilometers to reach the nearest town which was in fact 5 kilometers away, but the path was blocked by a tall mountain. The presence of this rocky mountain plagued the lives of the villagers of Gehlor for decades. One of them, Dashrath Manjhi, decided one day that he would cut a pass through the mountain. He sold his goats, bought a hammer and a chisel, and started hammering away at the mountain. Everyone laughed at him. They ridiculed him, dissuaded him, told him it was not possible. He refused to be swayed and kept at it. It took him 22 years to cut a road though the mountain but he did it.

For a moment let us imagine what he must have gone through on day one of his attempt. One man with a hammer and a chisel against the mountain! How many cubic inches of rock could he have broken on the first day? What did he feel while walking back home that evening? How far did he get at the end of week one? What were his thoughts then? No doubt the task would have seem even more impossible at the end of the first week. What did he feel when people made fun of him and discouraged him? What kept him going for 22 long years?
What you and I have to decide is, do we want to be like Dashrath Manjhi, or do we want to be like the villagers who tried to dissuade him? And there is a clear choice before us. What he was attempting to do was for everyone's benefit. Still instead of joining him, his own fellow villagers made fun of him. So, should we be like those villagers or should we live our life like Dashrath Manjhi, who, with single-minded determination continued to do what he believed he in. Each of us has to ask ourselves this question, and in our answer lies the reality of our future. In our answer lies the answer to the following question as well - Do I want to contribute to nation building? Do I want to be a believer or do I want to be a critic? Do I want to follow my dreams relentlessly and without compromise, or do I want to be a cynical, discouraging naysayer.
I believe….
I believe in India. I believe in the people of India. I believe that each and every Indian loves his/her country. I believe that India is changing. I believe that India wants to change. I believe in the dream that our forefathers saw when they fought for Independence. A dream that they wrote down in the preamble to our constitution.
"WE, THE PEOPLE OF INDIA, having solemnly resolved to constitute India into a SOVEREIGN SOCIALIST SECULAR DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC and to secure to all its citizens:
JUSTICE, social, economic and political;
LIBERTY, of thought, expression, belief, faith and worship;
EQUALITY of status and of opportunity;
and to promote among them all
FRATERNITY assuring the dignity of the individual and the unity and integrity of the Nation; …
There are many who say that this dream is dead, but I don't agree. While it is true that it has not been achieved, it is equally true that it is not entirely dead. Even today there are thousands of Indians who live by this dream. Many have spent their lives upholding this dream. Most of them are perhaps not even aware that in living their lives in the way that they are, they are upholding the constitution of India, the dream that our forefathers saw.
I think somewhere too many of us have become a little too clever, a little too practical, a little too cynical, a little too materialistic, a little too selfish. Maybe, we need to let go a little. Allow a little space in our hearts for hope, for idealism, for belief, for faith, for trust, for innocence and… for a little madness. If one Dashrath Manjhi can move a mountain, imagine what a 120 crore Dashrath Manjhi can do.
My journey of Satyamev Jayate is coming to an end. But I would like to believe that this is not the end, but is, in fact, a beginning. And in this hope filled moment of a beginning, I would like to bow my head in a prayer that was first expressed by Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore:
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high; 
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls; 
Where words come out from the depth of truth; 
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection; 
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit; 
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action--
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

Jaihind. Satyamev Jayate.

Courtesy: Hindustan Times

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Mantra for happiness: Be negative

Before you rush out to buy the next positive thinking bestseller, ask yourself this — is your search for optimism making you miserable? Dhamini Ratnam speaks to an unusual group that says, bathe in insecurity and focus on the worst case scenario instead of the best to find what else, happiness and success. 

I've seen people using positive visualisation to restart a car that's broken down," laughs Subhas Rao Mallya, a 48-year-old engineer with an oil company, and a self-confessed self help addict. A decade ago, as a practitioner, he wasn't laughing. His obsession with positive thinking led him to attempt to heal his aunt's pain from cancer using a technique called Neuro Linguistic Programming (NLP). 

Made popular in the 1970s, NLP is a personality development technique that uses verbal and non-verbal communication (like eye movements) to overcome physical pain or get rid of negative thoughts. 

The aunt's pain decreased, but when her cancer resurfaced, there was little he or the doctors could do to save her. She passed away in six months, "bitter that I couldn't help her," says Mallya. "I was disappointed in myself, but blamed her for not following my instructions. After she passed away, I felt like a failure." 

While that didn't quite put Mallya off self help, it did inject a healthy dose of scepticism in him, leading him to the same conclusion that British author Oliver Burkeman argues in his witty, thought-provoking new book, The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can't Stand Positive Thinking. Embracing the darker realities of life is as important as imagining a shiny, bright one. 

Burkeman, a journalist with The Guardian, is offering a radical take on how we look at happiness and success. "It (self help culture) has encouraged an allergy to the idea of experiencing negative emotions. There's now a lot of exciting psychological research that suggests that trying to stamp negativity out whenever it pops up, is deeply counterproductive," he says in an email interview. 

After speaking to experimental psychologists, terrorism experts, Buddhists and hardheaded business consultants, he argues that in our personal lives, and in society at large, it's our constant effort to be happy that is making us miserable. "Failure is everywhere. It's just that most of the time we'd rather avoid confronting that fact," adds Burkeman. He suggests you give negativity a chance to make you happy. 

It's not the same as being negative 

Simply put, taking the negative path means imagining the worstcase scenario. "When you're anxious, instead of struggling to convince yourself that everything will turn out fine, turn the question around and ask: what if it didn't turn out fine? We have a tendency to jump from some small event, say an argument with a lover, to the worst possible fantasies, like being rejected for life," he argues. By asking what's the worst that could happen, negative visualisation puts a limit on that limitless fear: things might get bad, but they'll never be infinitely bad. 

Sanjiv Dasgupta, a 36-year-old top management executive in a real estate firm in Mumbai, can vouch for that. Four years ago, the Indian Institute of Management graduate read the immensely popular self help book, Who Moved My Cheese? and was motivated to quit his job, simply because it was too comfortable. 

"I felt like the mouse that had gotten too comfortable with finding its cheese in the same place. I needed to move my cheese, take risks and push myself to adapt to change," says Dasgupta. 
For some, a plush job at an office 10 minutes from home, in the same building as their spouse, would have been the very roadmap of happiness. But Dasgupta's urge to change his life led him to take up a job that wasn't just far from where he lived, but also vastly different from his original one. 

The situation at his new workplace, he admits, isn't sound, and visualising a positive outcome — one which has him retaining his position — is a daily 10-minute exercise. Is he happier now?
Dasgupta pauses before answering. "Yes, and no," he replies. "But I'm glad I moved out of my comfort zone." 

It's because we must adapt 

Economist Bibek Debroy points out that the all-pervasive self help culture that's currently trending in urban India, is born out of liberalisation. An opening up of the Indian market to Western corporations has meant that young urban Indians not only have more money than their counterparts of 20 years ago, but also that their hierarchy of needs has moved up. 

Liberalisation also brought mobility and flux. "Whereas earlier, a working professional joined the public sector and stayed on till retirement, now there are several hops between jobs. This constant shift has generated a perceived need to improve oneself. We no longer feel that our University education can last our careers," says Debroy. 

Hence the upsurge in books that teach us to 'upgrade our skills', 'become better managers', 'deal with stress' and focus on lifestyle-related issues. 

"A lot of this positive thinking is a response to insecurity," agrees Burkeman. "Given the weight of change in the last few decades in India, it's not surprising that self help books are a hit in the country." 

While the self help industry in the United States is estimated to be $11 billion, in India, markers of its popularity lie in the details. Rhonda Byrne's 2006 bestseller The Secret has notched up to four lakh sales, while The Magic, which hit Indian bookstands in March, has sold 75,000 copies already. 

Sivaraman Balakrishnan, senior manager, marketing and communications for Crossword Bookstore, credits The Secret for setting the trend. "It did for self help literature what Chetan Bhagat did to Indian English fiction," he says. 

Priya Kumar, Deepak Chopra and Shiv Khera are the popular Indian authors in this genre, with Azim Jamal being toted as the new hot author with his 'Corporate Sufi' teachings, says Balakrishnan. 

Hay House India, a branch of Hay House founded by self help author Louise Hay, has sold close to three lakh copies of Hay's You Can Heal Your Life. "Each year it is reprinted at least four times. It has been translated into a dozen regional languages and the film by the same name has been successful in English and Hindi," says managing director Ashok Chopra. 

Motivational books form 25 per cent of the overall sales at Mumbai and Bengaluru's Strand Bookstore, says managing partner Vidya Virkar. Five years ago, it was 10 per cent. "The demand for New Age spiritual books has gone up. People are clearly seeking more than how to manage their workspace," she says. 

Being positive costs money 

Thirty-three-year-old Kanishka Sinha trained as an engineer, a chartered accountant and later completed a management degree. Last year, he launched a soft skills and self-awareness training company for corporate executives. As a personal coach to CEOs and high ranking professionals, Sinha charges 10,000 for an hour-long call, and 50,000 for a day-long workshop. And his charges are competitive. 

Personal coaches often charge up to 75,000 for a day-long workshop where they train ambitious youngsters on tackling uncertainty, gaining respect from juniors, and allaying deep-seated fears of not being respected. Very often these concerns spill over to their personal lives, as well, says Sinha. 

"Personality development is no longer about telling people what to do. We make them observe their behaviour, and give them feedback." 

This is perhaps the reason why psychotherapist Rani Raote is unwilling to trash self-help culture. "If selfhelp books make people examine their behaviour to understand why they do what they're doing, then that's a good thing." 

However, psychiatrist Dr Dayal Mirchandani, strikes a note of caution. The problem, he says, arises when self help masquerades as quick-fix solutions. "A lot of motivational literature sets people up for failure. We live in a real world. When positive visualisation doesn't work, it leaves a person upset." 

Which is what Burkeman means when he says research has shown that motivational books make people miserable, and visualising your goals can make you less likely to achieve them because your brain relaxes and gets tricked into thinking that you've already achieved them. 

And so, he offers the perfect alternative: give failure, pessimism, insecurity and uncertainty — the very things we spend our lives avoiding — a tight hug. "Positive thinking and goal-setting is motivated by a desire to know how the future will turn out. But, if you knew exactly how the rest of your life will unfold, it would be a kind of living death. It's only in situations of uncertainty that new and fruitful things can happen." 

How to be negative & happy: 

Burkeman's rules 

Situation 1: Your partner behaves cold think: 


What's the worst-case scenario? 
Apply: While at first, you may jump to a panicked vision of the relationship ending, leaving you sad and lonely, take a moment and vividly work out the worst-case scenario in a more rational way. You'll find yourself reaching a number of anxiety-reducing conclusions — there's no reason to assume anything is really all that wrong; there are actions you can take (like initiate a discussion) to resolve the mess; even if you did get dumped, you would probably find someone else; if you don't find someone else, you can still find happiness. The point is, you'd never reach these conclusions if you sought to persuade yourself that everything will be OK. Delving into the negative version of the future in fact, can help you feel better. 

Situation 2: You're procrastinating on a project 
Don't think: I need to be positive 
Apply: Conventional self-help wisdom advises you to find ways to motivate yourself and get the job done. But that actually adds an obstacle to action, by reinforcing the idea that you need to be in a particular state of mind, i.e, motivated, before you can act. The "negative path to happiness" instead leads you to realise that you don't need to feel like doing something before you do it. You can coexist with the negative feeling and act anyway. Often, the negative feeling disappears. 

Situation 3: you're taking a big life decision (moving to another city, pursuing a relationship, taking up a new job) 
Think: Let me embrace uncertainty 

Apply: We hate uncertainty so much that we are likely to take decisions not in our best interests, but simply to get rid of the feeling of uncertainty. If you ask yourself, "Am I taking this decision to get rid of a feeling of uncertainty," and if the answer is yes, beware. Of course, not every risk-taking decision is a good one. But a new job or relationship shouldn't be dismissed only because it leads to feelings of uncertainty. 


Courtesy: Times of India

Osho: Feel free, dance a little more


Talk: Osho
Start living this moment and you will see that the more you live, the less problems there are. Now that your emptiness is flowering and living, there is no need. When you don't live, the same energy goes sour. The same energy which would have become a flower is stuck; not being allowed to bloom, it becomes a thorn in the heart. It is the same energy.
If people can dance a little more, sing a little more, be a little more crazy, their energy will be flowing more, and their problems will by and by disappear. Hence i insist so much on dance. Dance to orgasm; let the whole energy become dance, and suddenly you will see that you don't have any head - the energy stuck in the head is moving all around, creating beautiful patterns, pictures, movement. When you dance there comes a moment when your body is no longer a rigid thing, it becomes flexible, flowing. When you dance there comes a moment when your boundary is no longer so clear; you melt and merge with the cosmos, the boundaries are mixing.
Watch a dancer - you will see that he has become an energy phenomenon, no longer in a fixed form, no longer in a frame. He is flowing out of his frame, out of his form, and becoming more alive, more and more alive. But only if you dance yourself will you know what really happens. The head inside disappears; you are a child once again. Then you don't create any problems.
Live, dance, eat, sleep, do things as totally as possible. And remember again and again: whenever you catch yourself creating any problem, slip out of it, immediately. Once you get into the problem then a solution will be needed. And even if you find a solution, out of that solution a thousand and one problems will arise again. Once you miss the first step, you are in the trap. Whenever you see that now you are slipping into a problem, catch hold of yourself, run, jump, dance, but don't get into the problem. Do something immediately so that the energy that was creating the problems becomes fluid, unfrozen, melts, goes back to the cosmos.
Those who live close to nature don't have many problems. I have come across indigenous groups in India who say they don't dream at all. Freud would not be able to believe that it is possible. They don't dream, but if sometimes somebody dreams, it is a rare phenomenon; the whole village fasts, prays to God. Something has gone wrong; something wrong has happened...a man has dreamed.
It never happens in their tribe because they live so totally that nothing is left in the head to be completed during sleep. Whatsoever you leave incomplete has to be completed in your dreams; whatsoever you have not lived remains as a hangover and completes itself in the mind - that's what a dream is. The whole day you go on thinking. The thinking simply shows that you have more energy than you use for living; you have more energy than your so-called life needs. 
You are missing real life. Use more energy. Fresh energies will be flowing. Don't be a miser. Use them today; let today be complete unto itself; tomorrow will take care of itself, don't be worried about tomorrow. The worry, the problem, the anxiety, all simply show one thing: that you are not living rightly, that your life is not yet a celebration, a dance, a festive - hence all the problems. 
Ancient Music In the Pines, courtesy Osho International Foundation, www.osho.com

Saturday, June 23, 2012

10 Simple Steps to a Healthier, Happier You


By Jené Luciani, SHAPE magazine

It sounds obvious. Drink more water, get more sleep, stop complaining, and your life will improve. But sometimes we need a little reminder that a few simple steps can make a huge different in our ultimate happiness and overall health.
We reached out to renowned life coach and nutritionist Ana Alexandre to find out 10 simple tips for a happier and healthier you!

1. Eliminate clutter
: Ever wonder why those people on Hoarders look so miserable? Climbing out from underneath piles of stuff can also mean emotional freedom from items that could be mentally weighing you down.
"Get rid of all the things you don't need or that are not good for you," Alexandre says. "Ditch clothes you never wear and create more space to see the clothes you do actually wear."
And from your closets to your kitchen, get rid of unhealthy foods too. "Clean out your cupboards, and get rid of all processed foods like those containing white flours, sugar, and unhealthy oils," Alexandre says.
2. Supplement your life: "Take an omega-3 supplement," Alexandre says. These amazing fats found in salmon, flaxseeds, and walnuts purportedly give you glowing skin, fight stress, and reduce inflammation in the body.

3. Just add water:
 You've heard it before, but it's worth repeating. It's important to drink eight to 10 glasses of water every day to keep our bodies functioning properly.
"Water keeps you hydrated, eliminates toxins, and keeps you regular. Always keep a bottle with you. If you see it, you will drink it!" Alexandre says. 

4. Forget the complaint department: "Stop complaining about never getting what you want, and instead, create what you want," Alexandre says.
She suggests setting at least three clear goals per year. "Set goals that excite you, that are tangible, and something with a finish line. Write your goals in the present tense (I go to the gym every Tuesday and Thursday). This will get you believing that they can be a reality!" 

5. Create a daily ritual: If you set aside just 10 minutes a day for yourself, Alexandre says, it will do wonders in eliminating daily stress and anxiety."Meditate for five minutes in the morning to start your day. Take the additional five minutes to relax before bed. Read a book that inspires you, take a bath, or enjoy a cup of tea. 

6. Just move it! Exercise not only makes you more physically fit, it also boosts your mood, increases your energy, and it can even improve your sex life.
"Find an activity you like and actually want to do. Take a dance or yoga class, go hiking or rollerblading," the life coach says. "It doesn't really matter. Just get your body moving."

7. Improve your penmanship: If you're thinking "I'm too old for a diary," look at it this way. "Writing in a journal daily helps you clarify your thoughts and feelings, reduces stress, and helps you resolve problems more effectively," Alexandre says.
Write down the highlights of your day, something you learned, or just one reason why you're grateful for the things you have.

8. All you need is love:
 It may sound cliché, but love truly does make the world go 'round.
"Find ways to get more love in your life," Alexandre says. "Make time in your schedule to see the people you love. Play with a child, hug your friends, tell someone you love them, and smile at someone you don't know. These small gestures can make a big difference."

9. Eat your veggies: Vegetables are an abundance of necessary vitamins and minerals that help keep us healthy and energized. So stop making excuses and eat some everyday. Doctors recommend at least five servings a day.

10. Sleep it off: Most of us need at least eight hours of sleep a night. That's need, not want. There's a reason why we need a sufficient amount of rest.
"Sleep improves stress, reduces inflammation, and allows cells to re-charge and repair damage," Alexandre says. It also keeps us functioning at our optimum levels both mentally and physically.
To make sure you get enough sleep , Alexandre suggests shutting off computers, cell phones, TVs, and anything else creeping in from the outside world at least one hour before bedtime. 

Courtesy: Yahoo Lifestyle

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

WSJ Special: Swami Vivekananda and the West- Part 2

During his lifetime, Vivekananda had another enthusiast in Leo Tolstoy, the titan of Russian letters. "He is the most brilliant wise man," Tolstoy gushed after devouring "Raja Yoga" in 1896 in a single sitting and reporting it to be "most remarkable… [and] I have received much instruction. The precept of what the true 'I' of a man is, is excellent…Yesterday, I read Vivekananda the whole day."

Not long before his death, Tolstoy was still waxing about Vivekananda. "It is doubtful in this age that another man has ever risen above this selfless, spiritual meditation."

Tolstoy and Vivekananda never met, but the opera diva Emma Calvé and the great tragedienne Sarah Bernhardt sought him out and became his lifelong friends.

Bernhardt, in fact, introduced him to the electromagnetic scientist Nikola Tesla, who was struck by Vivekananda' s knowledge of physics. Both recognized they had been pondering the same thesis on energy—in differentlanguages. Vivekananda was keenly interested in the science supporting meditation, and Tesla would cite the monk's contributions in his pioneering research of electricity. "Mr. Tesla was charmed to hear about the Vedantic prana and akasha and the kalpas [time]," Vivekananda wrote to a friend. "He thinks he can demonstrate mathematically that force and matter are reducible to potential energy. I am to go to see him next week to get this mathematical demonstration. In that case Vedantic cosmology will be placed on the surest of foundations. " For the monk from Calcutta, there were no inconsistencies between science, evolution and religious belief. Faith, he wrote, must be based upon direct experience, not religious platitudes.

More presciently, he warned that India would remain a vanquished, impoverished land until it "elevated" the status of women. And while he admonished Westerners for their preoccupation with the material and the physical, he famously advised a sickly young devotee to toughen himself with athletics: "You will be nearer to heaven playing football than studying the Bhagavad Gita."

Vivekananda' s influence bloomed well into the mid-20th century, infusing the work of Mahatma Gandhi, Carl Jung, George Santayana, Jane Addams, Joseph Campbell and Henry Miller, among assorted luminaries. And then he seemed to go into eclipse in the West. American baby boomers—more disposed
to "doing" than "being"—have opted for "hot yoga" classes over meditation. At some point, perhaps in the 1980s, an ancient, profoundly anti-materialist teaching had morphed into a fitness cult with expensive accessories.

Moreover, a few American academics have recently taken to scrutinizingVivekananda and Ramakrishna through a Freudian prism, offering up speculative theories of sexual repression. In turn their critics respond that the two titans from Calcutta are incomprehensible via simplistic Freudian prisms. To understand the unconditional celibacy of Ramakrishna and Vivekananda, they argue, requires fluency in 19th-century Bengali and a decidedly non-Western paradigm.

Supporting this view were Christopher Isherwood and his friend Aldous Huxley, who wrote the introduction to the 1942 English-language edition of "The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, " a firsthand account (originally published in India in 1898) described by Huxley as "the most profound and subtle utterances about the nature  of Ultimate Reality." Nikhilananda, Salinger's guru, did the translation, with assistance from Huxley, Joseph Campbell and Margaret Wilson, the daughter of the late president.

Huxley and Isherwood were introduced to Vedanta in the Hollywood Hills in the late 1930s by their countryman, the writer Gerald Heard. In a fitting counterpart to the New York Center, the Hollywood Vedanta society was likewise run by a scholarly and charismatic monk, Prabhavananda, who
initiated the English trio of writers.

Like Nikhilananda, Prabhavananda was a magnet for the intelligentsia, and his lectures often attracted the likes of Igor Stravinsky, Laurence Olivier, Vivien Leigh and W. Somerset Maugham (and led to his writing "TheRazor's Edge"). Inspired by Isherwood—who briefly lived at the center as a monk—Greta Garbo asked if she too might move in. Told that a monastery accepts only men, Garbo became testy. "That doesn't matter!" she thumped. "I'll put on trousers."

Henry Miller, who made headlines with his torrid and banned "Tropic of Cancer," visited with Prabhavananda at the Hollywood center, devoured a small library of Vedanta books and settled down in Big  Sur in 1944. Throughout his memoir, "The Air Conditioned Nightmare," Miller invoke Vivekananda as the great sage of the modern age and the consummate messenger to rescue the West from spiritual bankruptcy.

Isherwood's commitment to Vedanta, like Salinger's, was unswerving and lifelong. Over the next 20 years, he co-translated with Prabhavananda the Bhagavad Gita, Patanjali's "Yoga Aphorisms" and Shankara's "Crest Jewel of Discrimination, " and was the author of several books and tracts on Vivekananda and Ramakrishna.

Huxley, however, in his final years turned over his spiritual quest to his second wife, Laura, and pharmaceuticals— an unequivocal no-no among Vedantins. Believing he had found a shortcut to samadhi, the great man had his wife inject him with LSD on his deathbed. "Aldous was the most brilliant man I ever met," sighed one monk, "but he lacked discrimination. "

Of all the literary lions captivated by Vivekananda and Vedanta, J.D.Salinger perhaps made the fullest commitment and sacrifices. In 1952, Salinger exhorted his British publisher to pick up the English rights of
the Gospel, calling it "the religious book of the century."

At the peak of his fame in 1961, Salinger delivered a warmly inscribed copy of "Franny and Zooey," which is saturated in Vedantic thought and references, to his guru Nikhilananda, who by then had formally initiated him as a devotee. Salinger confided to Nikhilananda that he intentionally left a trail of Vedantic clues throughout his work from "Franny and Zooey" onward, hoping to entice readers into deeper study.

The two men often met at the 94th Street center, where they would discuss the spiritual challenges of renunciation. Salinger would also embark on "personal retreats" at the Vedanta center in Thousand Island Park in the St. Lawrence River. There he would stay in the cottage where Vivekananda had lived and held retreats in the late 1890s.

In January 1963, at the New York celebration of Vivekananda' s 100th birthday—presided over by the secretary-general of the United Nations, U Thant—Salinger sat front and center at the banquet table. A few weeks later, he published "Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction, " two exquisitely wrought novellas in which the suicide of Seymour, arguably Salinger's alter ego, is the catalyzing event. "I have been reading a miscellany of Vedanta all day," begins one entry in Seymour's diary in "Raise High." In Seymour, the narrator declares, "I tend to regard myself as a fourth-class Karma Yogini, with perhaps a littleJnana Yoga thrown in to spice up the pot."

In Salinger's last published work, "Hapworth 16, 1924," in 1965 in "The NewYorker," Seymour bursts into a manic tribute to Vivekananda. "Raja-Yoga and Bhakti-Yoga, two heartrending, handy, quite tiny volumes, are perfect for the pockets of any average, mobile boys our age, by Vivekananda of India."

And then America's beloved novelist stopped publishing. "Name and fame," eschewed by Ramakrishna, no longer was the ticket for the increasingly hermetic Salinger. His ferocious literary ambition was now supplanted by what appears to have been a diligent, albeit eccentric, spiritual quest for the next four decades—until his death in 2010.

While Salinger is depicted by many chroniclers and contemporaries as an ornery crank, four letters, approved by Salinger's estate for use by the New York Ramakrishna- Vivekananda Center, suggest a man of singular devotion and renunciation: "I read a bit from the Gita every morning before I get of bed," he wrote to Nikhilananda' s successor swami at the New York center in 1975.

Salinger also conducted a long correspondence with Marie Louise Burke, who compiled a six-volume history of Vivekananda' s visits to the West. Burke was as serious a seeker as Salinger and as devoted as a nun: Indeed, she took the monastic name Sister Gargi. Nevertheless, the nervous, sometimes paranoid Salinger fretted that she might profit from their letters. Unfortunately, Burke proved her fidelity to her friend by burning them.

In between his two treks to the West, Vivekananda returned to India and founded the Ramakrishna Order as both a monastery and a service mission. Today it is among the largest philanthropic organizations in
India—providing food, medical assistance and disaster relief to millions. His prescription for his countrymen, however, who had been demoralized by colonialism, was to borrow a page from the West, he said, and instill itself with the "can do" spirit of Americans. "Strength! Strength is my religion!" he exhorted. "Religion is not for the weak!"

India has scheduled a yearlong party to commemorate the 150th anniversary of Vivekananda' s birth, beginning on January 12, 2013. There will be plenty of readings of his four texts on yoga as a spiritual discipline. Nine volumes chronicle his talks, writings and ruminations, from screeds against child marriage to Milton's "Paradise Lost" to his pet goats and ducks. But if there were a single takeaway line that boils down his teachings to one spiritual bullet point, it would be "You are not your body." This might be bad news for the yoga-mat crowd. The good news for beleaguered souls like Salinger was Vivekananda' s corollary: "You are not your mind."

In a 1972 letter to the ailing Nikhilananda in the last year of his life, Salinger seemed to be saying as much. "I sometimes wish that the East had deigned to concentrate some small part of its immeasurable genius to the petty art of science of keeping the body well and fit. Between extreme indifference to the body and the most extreme and zealous attention to it (Hatha Yoga), there seems to be no useful middle ground whatever."

Salinger went on to express his gratitude to the man who had guided him out of his "long dark night." "It may be that reading to a devoted group from the Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna is all you do now, as you say, but I imagine the students who are lucky enough to hear you read from the Gospel would put the matter rather differently. Meaning that I've forgotten many worthy and important things in my life, but I have never forgotten the way you used to read from, and interpret, the Upanishads, up at Thousand Island Park."

By then, Salinger had not published in some time. Nor would he again. Nor did he seem to miss it. 

Courtesy: The Wall Street Journal

WSJ Special: Swami Vivekananda and the West- Part 1


[From the Wall Street Journal WSJ. MAGAZINE - Updated March 30, 2012, 2:01 p.m. ET]

What Did J.D. Salinger, Leo Tolstoy, and Sarah Bernhardt Have in Common? The surprising—and continuing—influence of Swami Vivekananda, the pied piper of the global yoga movement

By the late 1960s, the most famous writer in America had become a recluse, having forsaken his dazzling career. Nevertheless, J.D. Salinger often came to Manhattan, staying at his parents' sprawling apartment on Park Avenue and 91st Street. While he no longer visited with his editors at "The New Yorker," he was keen to spend time with his spiritual teacher, Swami Nikhilananda, the founder of the Ramakrishna- Vivekananda Center, located, then as now, in a townhouse just three blocks away, at 17 East 94th Street.

Though the iconic author of "The Catcher in the Rye" and "Franny and Zooey"published his last story in  1965, he did not stop writing. From the early1950s onward, he maintained a lively correspondence with several Vedanta monks and fellow devotees.

After all, the central, guiding light of Salinger's spiritual quest was the teachings of Vivekananda, the Calcutta-born monk who popularized Vedanta and yoga in the West at the end of the 19th century.

These days yoga is offered up in classes and studios that have become as ubiquitous as Starbucks. Vivekananda would have been puzzled, if not somewhat alarmed. "As soon as I think of myself as a little body," he warned, "I want to preserve it, protect it, to keep it nice, at the expense of other bodies. Then you and I become separate." For Vivekananda, who established the first ever Vedanta Center, in Manhattan in 1896, yoga meant just one thing: "the realization of God."

After an initial dalliance in the late 1940s with Zen—a spiritual path without a God—Salinger discovered Vedanta, which he found infinitely more consoling. "Unlike Zen," Salinger's biographer, Kenneth Slawenski, points out, "Vedanta offered a path to a personal relationship with God…[and] a promise that he could obtain a cure for his depression….and find God, and through God, peace."
 
Finding peace would, however, be a lifelong battle. In 1975, Salinger wrote to another monk at the New York City center about his own daily struggle,citing a text of the eighth-century Indian mystic Shankara as a  cautionary tale: "In the forest-tract of sense pleasures there prowls a huge tiger called the mind. Let good people who have a longing for Liberation never go there." Salinger wrote, "I suspect that nothing is truer than that,"confessing despondently, "and yet I allow myself to be mauled by that old tiger almost every wakeful  minute of my life."

It was his daily mauling by the "huge tiger" and his dreaded depressions that led Salinger to abandon his literary ambitions in favor of spiritual ones. Salinger—who appears to have had a nervous breakdown of sorts upon his return from the gruesome front lines of World War II—subscribed to Vivekananda' s view of the mind as a drunken monkey who is stung by a scorpion and then consumed by a demon. At the same time, Vivekananda promised hope and solace—writing that the "same mind, when subdued and controlled, becomes a most trusted friend and helper, guaranteeing peace and happiness." It was precisely the consolation that Salinger so desperately sought. And by 1965 he was ready to renounce his once gritty
pursuit of literary celebrity.

Although all but forgotten by America's 20 million would-be yoginis, clad in their finest Lululemon, Vivekananda was the Bengali monk who introduced the word "yoga" into the national conversation. In 1893, outfitted in a red, flowing turban and yellow robes belted by a scarlet sash, he had delivered a show-stopping speech in Chicago. The event was the tony Parliament of Religions, which had been convened as a spiritual complement to the World's Fair, showcasing the industrial and technological
achievements of the age.

On its opening day, September 11, Vivekananda, who appeared to be meditating onstage, was summoned to speak and did so without notes. "Sisters and Brothers of America," he began, in a sonorous voice tinged with "a delightful slight Irish brogue," according to one listener, attributable to his Trinity College–educated professor in India. "It fills my heart with joy unspeakable. .."

Then something unprecedented happened, presaging the phenomenon decades later that greeted the Beatles (one of whom, George Harrison, would become a lifelong Vivekananda devotee). The previously sedate crowd of 4,000-plus attendees rose to their feet and wildly cheered the visiting monk, who, having never before addressed a large gathering, was as shocked as his audience. "I thank you in the name of the most ancient order of monks in the world," he responded, flushed with emotion. "I thank you in the name of the mother of religions, and I thank you in the name of millions and millions of Hindu people of all classes and sects."

Annie Besant, a British Theosophist and a conference delegate, described Vivekananda' s impact, writing that he was "a striking figure, clad in yellow and orange, shining like the sun of India in the midst of the heavy
atmosphere of Chicago…a lion head, piercing eyes, mobile lips, movements swift and abrupt." The Parliament, she said, was "enraptured; the huge multitude hung upon his words." When he was done, the convocation rose again and cheered him even more thunderously. Another delegate described "scores of women walking over the benches to get near to him," prompting one wag to crack wise that if the 30-year-old Vivekananda "can resist that onslaught, [he is] indeed a god."

"No doubt the vast majority of those present hardly knew why they had been so powerfully moved," Christopher Isherwood wrote a half century later, surmising that a "strange kind of subconscious telepathy" had infected the hall, beginning with Vivekananda' s first words, which have resonated, for some, long after. Asked about the origins of "My Sweet Lord," George Harrison replied that "the song really came from Swami Vivekananda, who said, 'If there is a God, we must see him. And if there is a soul, we must
perceive it.' "

The teachings of Vedanta are rooted in the Vedas, ancient scriptures going back several thousand years that also inform Buddhism, Hinduism and Jainism. The Vedic texts of the Upanishads enshrine a core belief that God is within and without—that the divine is everywhere. The Bhagavad Gita (Song of God) is another sacred text or gospel, whereas Hinduism is actually a coinage popularized by Vivekananda to describe a faith of diverse and myriad beliefs.

Vivekananda' s genius was to simplify Vedantic thought to a few accessible teachings that Westerners found irresistible. God was not the capricious tyrant in the heavens avowed by Bible-thumpers, but rather a power that resided in the human heart. "Each soul is potentially divine," he promised. "The goal is to manifest that divinity within by controlling nature,external and internal." And to close the deal for the fence-sitters, he punched up Vedanta's embrace of other faiths and their prophets. Christ and Buddha were incarnations of the divine, he said, no less than Krishna and his own teacher, Ramakrishna.

Although Vivekananda was a Western-educated intellectual of encyclopedic erudition, "the descendant of 50 generations of lawyers," as he would say, Ramakrishna was for all intents and purposes illiterate. Born Gadadhar Chattopadhyay, Ramakrishna had not an iota of interest in schooling beyond the study of scripture and prayer. Fortunately, that amply met the job requirements of his post as a priest at the Dakshineswar Kali Temple. According to numerous firsthand, contemporaneous accounts, Ramakrishna—who is revered as a  saint in much of India and as an avatar by many—spent a good deal of his short life in samadhi, or an ecstatic state. On a daily basis, sitting or standing, he was often observed slipping into a transported state that he described as "God consciousness, " existing with neither food nor sleep. He died in 1886 at age 50.

Though Ramakrishna spoke in a village idiom, invoking homespun local parables, word about the "Bengali saint" spread through the chattering classes of India in the 1870s like a monsoon. Many who flocked to him—and declared him a divine incarnation—were educated as lawyers, doctors and engineers and were often the graduates of British-run Christian schools. His closest and most influential disciple, however, was Vivekananda (born Narendranath Datta in 1863 to an affluent family), whom he charged with carrying the message of Vedanta to the world.

Certainly, a smattering of Eastern thought had already traveled to the West before Vivekananda' s arrival in the U.S. In the 1820s, Ralph Waldo Emerson had snared a copy of the Bhagavad Gita and found himself enchanted. "I owed a magnificent day to the Bhagavad Gita," Emerson wrote in his journal in 1831. The Gita would inform his Transcendentalist essays, in which he wrote of the "Over-Soul," that part of the individual that is one with the universe—invoking the Vedantic precepts of the Atman and Brahman. (In a tidy historical twist, one of Emerson's relatives, Ellen Waldo, became a devotee of Vivekananda, and faithfully transcribed the dictated text of his first book, "Raja Yoga," in 1895.)

Emerson's student and fellow Transcendentalist, Henry David Thoreau, would study Indian thought even more avidly and crafted his own practice—living as a secular monk, as it were, by Walden Pond. In 1875, Walt Whitman was given a copy of the Gita as a Christmas gift, and it is heard unmistakably in "Leaves of Grass" in lines such as "I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contained between my hat and my boots." Though the two never met, Vivekananda hailed Whitman as "the
Sannyasin of America."

The Academy, however, was a bit slower to embrace Eastern thought and literature. It wasn't until after an electrifying lecture by Vivekananda at Harvard's Graduate Philosophical Club on March 25, 1896, that Eastern Philosophy departments became a staple at Ivy League colleges.

Fascinated by the erudite and polyglot monk—who could pass an entire day sitting motionless in silent meditation—the esteemed philosopher William James roped in many of his colleagues, students and friends to attend Vivekananda' s Harvard lecture. They were not disappointed. "The theory of evolution, and prana [energy] and akasa [space] is exactly what your modern science has," their exotic visitor blithely informed them. Nor were they unamused. When asked, "Swami, what do you think about food and breathing?" he replied, "I am for both." The evening ended with the turbaned monk, "dressed in rich dark red robes," receiving an offer to chair Harvard's new department. Columbia University promptly made its own bid for Vivekananda—who declined both, noting his vows of renunciation.

At a dinner party in his honor the following night, William James and Vivekananda scurried off to a corner by themselves, where they were observed nattering away until midnight. The next morning, James sent  word inviting him to dinner at his own home that evening. And over the next week, James would dash into Boston to hear his other lectures.

"He has evidently swept Professor James off his feet," wrote a Harvard colleague. Indeed, the eminent scholar was deferential to a fault with his newfound Bengali friend, referring to him as Master. More important, in his seminal book "The Varieties of Religious Experience," James relied upon Vivekananda' s "Raja Yoga," a treatise on the discipline of meditation practice from which he quoted extensively: "All the different steps in yoga are intended to bring us scientifically to the superconscious state, or samadhi."

Unbeknownst to him, Vivekananda had hit the piñata of influence: James was arguably the country's premier intellectual. And it hardly hurt that his brother was the master novelist Henry James.

Along with the James brothers, a half dozen socially prominent and wealthy women immeasurably facilitated the visiting monk—who not infrequently encountered some racism on his U.S. lecture tours. Sara Bull in Cambridge, Josephine MacLeod in New York City, and Margaret Noble in London would set up salons and avidly spread the word—and even followed him to India. With the vast contacts and shrewd networking of these women, his talks in Cambridge and Manhattan became standing-room- only affairs attended by the
cognoscenti of the day, assorted seekers, and all manner of movers and shakers—from Gertrude Stein, one of James's students, to John D.Rockefeller. Blessed with "the power of personality, " as Henry James would
say, Vivekananda was the ideal missionary to pitch the message of Vedanta.