Theosophy - The Swami of Akalkot by Damodar K. Mavalankar
THE SWAMI OF AKALKOT
by Damodar K. Mavalankar
(The Theosophist, Jan. 1880)
A book entitled "Swami Charitra" (The life of Swami) has just
been published in Marathi, in two parts, by one Narayan Hari
Bhagvat. It
contains the life of one of the most remarkable among modern
Hindus, the Swami of Akalkot, from the time he became known under
the name of
Digambar Bawa, in a town called Mangalvede near Akalkot. Nothing
is known of this wonderful man before that time. Neither did
any body
dare question him about his antecedents. One named Babajipant,
who was one of those who had lived with the Swami since the time
his public
career as an ascetic began, urged him once to give information
about his name, native place, and family. Swami gave no direct
answer, but
simply said "Datta Nagar", and "Chief person" — "the Vata tree." No
other attempt to elicit information was made. The reason that
led the author to commence this biography is very astonishing.
He says that
one night he went to bed as usual, but could not sleep for a
long time, being oppressed with various thoughts. In this frame
of mind he
at last fell asleep, but was startled by a most unexpected dream.
He saw a Sannyasi approach his bed. This reverend man, unlike
persona of
his avocation, wore clothes, had "kundala" [A
sort of ring usually worn by the Sannyasis in the lower part
of their ears ] in
his ears and carried with him a "dand" [A three
or seven
knotted bamboo of the wonder working ascetics ] and
kam andalu.[The
gourd which Bramhacharies, Sannyasis and others use for holding
water ] A
man who accompanied him asked the author to get up and see the
Swami. He seemed
to obey and Swami then said: — "It is a well-known fact that
I took Samadhi at
Akalkot [When
a great Sadhu is dead, this phrase is usually said. Samadhi
is
the highest stage of Yog training, and when a Yogi is in that
state he loses consciousness of this
world and sees nothing but his own Divine Spirit ].
Write my biography as well suit the present times, in accordance
with
my instructions. I now disappear." This seen, the
author awoke, got up, and was at a great loss what to do, especially
as he had never seen the Swami, and was consequently unable to
obey the instructions conveyed to him in the dream. Neither had
he ever
felt any sincere desire to see the Swami during his lifetime.
Unlike many, he had never regarded him as an incarnation of God.
While in
this state of mind he slept for the second time, and again in
his dream saw the same person in the same dress and with the
same marks
about him, who said "get up, why are you thus puzzled? Begin
writing
and you will have the necessary materials." The author thereupon
resolved to at least make the attempt, and wrote to all the persons
who knew the Swami well, to supply as much information as they
could. The facts mentioned in the book are therefore authenticated.
They are
moreover credible, because the author says he got many of these
from persons he had never written to. Moreover it is not likely
that a
person like Mr. Govind Vishnu Bhide, who is well informed and
experienced, would talk at random without considering well upon
the matter. He says that once when he went to see the Swami in
fulfilment
of a vow made by him, be had also a desire that Swami should
advise him in regard to spiritual matters. No sooner did he stand
before the
Swami than the latter turned his face towards him, and repeated
the
following verse in Marathi: —
upAsanalo dyaDa cAlavAveM || satkamaryogoM vaya dhAlavAveM ||
thudevasaMtAM sadA lavavai || sarvAM mukhoM maMgala bAlevAveM ||
No less credible is the fact mentioned by Mr. Vishnu Chintamon
Bhopatkar, Sheriff of the Sessions Court at Poona. Some ten years
ago, when he served as Sheristedar of the District Judge, his
wife suffered
from a very severe attack of fever. Every day the sickness increased
and the doctors pronounced her incurable. He was therefore ready
to try any remedy suggested to him. He saw a friend of his
who advised
him to make a vow that he would take his wife to the Swami of
Akalkot, if she should improve, and in the mean time to keep
her under the
treatment of a native doctor named Gunesh Shastri Sakurdikar.
He accordingly prayed to the Swami, and promised to offer a
cocoanut to
his idol on his behalf. But unfortunately he forgot his promise
when he went to bed. And although this fact was known to nobody,
his
brother-in-law saw in a dream the Swami rebuking him for having
forgotten his promise to offer a cocoanut on Swami's account.
As he was not aware of the promise made by Mr. Bhopatkar, he
was at a loss
as to what his dream meant, and consequently communicated the
fact to all the family, in great astonishment. When Mr. Bhopatkar
heard this,
he repented having forgotten his promise, but immediately at
her taking a bath he offered the cocoanut on Swami's account,
and made a
vow that if his wife was cured he would go with her in the month
of January to Akalkot to see the Swami. Then he sent for the
native
doctor mentioned to him by his friend, but found that he had
left for his Inam village and was not in Poona. But nevertheless,
to the great
surprise of Mr. Bhopatkar, it happened that while he was returning
home from the office be met on his way the very native doctor
whom he was searching for. He then took him home and the latter
gladly
undertook to treat Mr. Bhopatkar's wife. The medicine administered
proved a success, and she went on improving gradually. And, although
she was pretty well by the month of January, Mr. Bhopatkar did
not think it advisable for her to travel as she was still very
weak, and
consequently did not take her with him when he left Poona. But
be had no sooner left Poona without her, than her sickness recurred
so
seriously that the next day he was telegraphed to return. Since
she had been all right at the time of his departure the sudden
receipt of
this telegram made him suspect that all this was due to his not
having fulfilled his vow to take his wife with him to Akalkot.
He then
invoked the Swami, asked his pardon, and promised to go with
her to Akalkot in the month of July if she should recover. She
at once began
to mend so rapidly that by the time he reached home he found
her all right. In the month of July, although she had recovered,
she was in
too feeble a state to face the cold of the season. He however
resolved to abide by his vow this time, and accordingly went
to Akalkot with
his wife and the doctor under whose treatment she was. When they
reached their place of destination it was raining very hard,
and the place where they had put up was very damp. Her constitution
however
received no shock, but on the contrary she continued to improve.
When they all went to the Swami he ordered a certain book to
be brought
him, and after finding a certain chapter gave it first to the
doctor and then to Mr. Bhopatkar, thereby intimating without
speaking a word,
that their object in coming was gained.
There are many such facts as the above mentioned in the book,
all going to confirm the Swami's claim to the knowledge of
Yog Vidya. He was a
practical example to show what a man can do, if he will.
If any body had taken advantage of the opportunity thus offered
to him and
gone to the Swami purely with the intention of studying philosophy,
how much good might he not have done himself and his country!
During the twenty years or more that the Swami was at Akalkot,
no less than
500,000 persons must have gone to see him. But of this large
number it would seem that scarcely any had within them an honest
desire to study
philosophy. Almost all were actuated merely by selfish worldly
desires. If they had gone to him with a sincere aspiration to
learn how to obtain control over bodily passions, he would have
bestowed
favours on them, of which no robber in the world could have deprived
them. But they sought but these worldly enjoyments with which
fools are satisfied. They had never given a moment's consideration
to the
thought of what their state would be after the death of their
physical bodies. In the whole book under notice are given but
two or three
instances of persons who went to the Swami with a desire to obtain
knowledge. The course which he adopted to fulfil the desires
of such persons is very curious. One named Narsappa, an inhabitant
of Mysore,
had gone to Akalkot with a view to receive some instructions
on spiritual matters. He was at a great loss how to explain his
intentions to the Swami, as he knew neither Marathi nor Hindustani.
He however would regularly go and sit silently by the Sannyasi.
Once,
while he was sitting near a Puranik, [A person
who reads
any of the 18 works of Puran and explains the meaning ] Swami
made him a sign to approach and upon his obeying, Swami took
a blank book that was lying by him, and, after turning many of
its leaves, gave him a certain page
to read. He there found, to his great astonishment and joy, an
injunction printed in Kanarese characters, that he should read
Bhagvat Gita if he would have his desires fulfilled. He then
gladly
communicated the fact to a Puranik friend and asked him to read
the book to him. The Puranik approached the place where the Swami
was
sitting, and taking the blank book which had been placed in the
hands of Narsappa, looked for the page on which Narsappa said
he saw
Kanarese characters. He also examined all the other books, as
well as all the papers lying there, but nowhere could he find
Kanarese
characters. This fact is an illustration to show that this singular
being communicated his instructions only to those who sincerely
desired them.
The book teems with facts illustrative of the power obtained by a
Yogi. There are very few persons in this country, who being in search
of the ancient Aryan Philosophy, have obtained control over the bodily
passions which trouble ordinary men beyond measure. Fewer still who
like one now living in India, whom I dare not mention, are known.
Almost all who have thoroughly studied or are studying that ennobling
philosophy, keep themselves out of the public view in compliance with
wise and inexorable rules. It is not through selfishness, as too many
imagine. Though unseen, they none the less are continually working for
the good of humanity. In thousands of cases what they effect is
ascribed to Providence. And whenever they find any one who, like
themselves, has an ambition above the mere pleasures of this world,
and is in search of that Vidya which alone can make man wise in this
as well and happy in the next, they stand ready by his side, take him
up in their hands as soon as he shows his worthiness, and put in his
way the opportunities to learn that philosophy, the study of which has
made them masters of themselves, of nature's forces, and of this
world. It is apparent that the Swami of Akalkot was one of such
persons. A man peculiarly oracular and sparing of speech, and
eccentric to a degree, he nevertheless did a world of good, and his
life was crowded with marvels. Many facts might be quoted that would
tend to show the great knowledge possessed by him, but the few above
related will suffice to introduce him to the reader, and to indicate
his familiarity with the occult side of nature. While he was alive,
very few learnt the Vidya from him; now that he is gone for ever, his
death is lamented, as is usually the case with the sons of India.
Their eyes are at last opened to the injury they have inflicted upon
themselves by neglecting a golden opportunity.
The account of his death given in the biography is pathetic,
and worth repetition. On the last day of the first fortnight
of the month of
Chaitra, [The first month of the Hindu year
according
to the Shalivan Era ] in the year 1800 of the
Shalivan Era, people suspected that the health of the Swami had
begun to fail. While he
was sleeping in the afternoon of that day, at the place of Tatya
Saheb Subhedar he suddenly got up, and ordered a square earthen
tile which was lying
there to be placed on somebody's head. He then went to a tank
outside the skirts of the town, followed by a large crowd, as
well as by the
person who had the earthen tile on his head, and seated himself
on the steps of the tank. He afterwards ordered the man to place
the earthen
tile in water without injuring it, and asked the crowd to make
a loud
noise.[ According to the Hindu custom when any
body loses his nearest relation or one he clearly loves, he turns
round the dead body and makes
a loud noise by pressing his hand against his mouth, such a noise
is here meant.] He then removed to the temple
of Murlidhar in the evening until which time he was all right.
But at above 9 in
the night he had a severe attack of cold and fever. But without
communicating the fact to any body be got up early in the morning
and went to the burning
ground where he showed two or three funeral piles to some of
his followers and asked them to remember them. He then directed
his
footsteps towards the village of Nagannhalli which is about two
miles from where he was. And although it was past noon he had.
taken neither
his bath nor meals, but nobody dared ask him do any thing. On
his way he rested in a shed reserved for cows. His followers
as usual began to
prepare him a bed, when he said — "Henceforward I do not require
any
bed. Burn it on that tree opposite to me." This startled some
of his followers, but they did not even suspect that the Swami
thereby meant
any thing in regard to himself. The next day he returned to Akalkot
and stopped under a Vata tree behind the palace of Karjalkar.
And notwithstanding that he then suffered from fever, he carried
on his
conversation in his usual tone. Neither did he show any change
in his actions. Shortly afterwards he had an attack of diarraehea,
and his
appetite failed him. But he did not omit his customary bath,
and if any body raised objection to his doing so, on account
of his sickness,
he answered, "What will your father lose if I die?" He was cured
of diarraehea by Hanmantrao Ghorpade, the doctor of the dispensary
at
Akalkot, but continued to suffer from fever and shortly afterwards
had paroxysm of coughing. He was then placed under the treatment
of a
native doctor named Nana Vaidya, all of whose attempts to cure
him failed. If asked not to bathe or expose himself to air, he
would pay
no attention. Neither could he be persuaded to take the medicine
prescribed for him. Two or three days afterwards he began to
breathe very hard, and he sank rapidly. But still he made no
complaint and he
did not permit his outward appearance to show any symptoms of
what he internally suffered. When his sickness was at last too
apparent to be
concealed some of his respectable friends thought it advisable
for him to distribute alms before his death. This he did most
willingly,
himself repeating all the necessary mantrams. He gave, with his
hands, his own embroidered shawl to Ramacharya. As his cough
increased every
moment, he was advised to remove from an open place into the
inner part of the house. But all the entreaties of his friends
proved in
vain. The same answer was repeated to them, At noon on the 13th
day of the latter fortnight of the month of Chaitra, he ordered
his cows and
other animals to be brought before him. He then gave away all
the food and clothes offered to him. Seeing that by that time
his voice was
almost gone, one of his good disciples asked him if he had any
instructions to communicate. In reply he repeated the following
verse
from the Gita: —
AnanyakshchintayantI mAM yojanAh: paryupAsate |
tashAM nityAthiyuktAnAM yogakshemaM vahAmyahaM ||
He then turned from the left to the right side and ordered himself
to be seated. No sooner was the order obeyed than he was ...
!
Now, as was above remarked, people have begun to appreciate his
greatness. They have erected a sort of a temple on the spot where he
breathed his last, to commemorate his memory. But if they had held him
fast in their hearts while he was alive, and if they had studied the
Vidya with him, then they would have raised themselves above base
passions and the pursuit of pleasures; and obtained that kingdom from
which the gainer is never dethroned. To such as may ask how he could
have assisted them in making themselves masters of self, let the
author speak. — "As all the facts mentioned in the book relate to
others, it is quite plain that readers would have the author say what
may have happened to himself. It would be unjust for him to shrink
from relating his own experience in deference to unworthy fears. It is
thirteen months since he saw the Swami in his dream, and he does not
now feel the infirmities of age. All his senses are in proper order
and not decayed by age. By degrees he gains possession of the secret
that enables him to control practically the passions which trouble
ordinary men. And whenever he cannot, with all his efforts, check any
improper desire, he sees, in an inexpressible way, some event which
shows that the Swami is determined upon driving all improper thoughts
from the author's mind by bringing him face to face with strange
events. This is the only experience which the author has had until now
of Swami's greatness." — But it suffices to show that the author is in
the right path.
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