Papaji biography of mahatma gandhi
Explaining Papaji is like talking about the Self: words are short or lacking, inadequate, and inappropriate. How to describe that unconditional love, that infinite wisdom, kindness, patience, and sweetness? How to talk about his silence, a silence which communicates so richly? How to speak about the unnameable beauty of the Self that shines through him? Whoever came in touch with him said that he seemed like ‘the happiest man on earth.’ His happiness is contagious, overwhelming.
His sense of humour was spot-on, sharp, hilarious. His Satsang was always an occasion full of roaring laughter. He never condemned, criticised, or judged anyone. He was egoless, mindless. What cames through him was the clarity of his Heart, which is the Truth. He had that wisdom to see the essence, the Heart, and not the name and form of those who came to him. As a real yogi, his words and deeds sometimes surprised and puzzled, but the passage of time will inevitably vindicate him and demonstrate the grandeur of his wisdom. He was delightful, mischievous, playful, and has incredible fun by just being who he is. His Satsangs were touched by beauty, with songs and music that people offer gratefully to him. There are moments of love, moments of truth. In Satsang with Papaji, it’s like returning home, to the now that has always been the true home.
Papaji first experienced his samadhi or spiritual experience when he was only nine years of age. Papaji has spoken in many Satsangs of his early childhood days. The year was 1919. The British (then ruling Pakistan ) had victory in the First World War, and so had given all school children a one-month holiday so that they could join in the victory celebrations. Papaji was about nine years of age during that time. So Papaji’s mother decided that this unscheduled vacation would be an ideal time to go and visit some of their relatives who lived in Lahore and it was summertime so mangoes were available in plenty.
One evening, while P SHARE Japa is a spiritual practice in which a seeker repeats a mantra. The repetition of the right mantra gradually dissolves your past conditioning and weakens the ego. Papaji is a modern enlightened master who lived in the twentieth century. He practiced devotional japa to Krishna for twenty-five years. His japa practice dissolved his ego, what he called the sense of “I.” Yet it wasn’t until he met Ramana Maharshi that he attained liberation. The book Nothing Ever Happened is a biography of Papaji’s life. In it Papaji’s describes the stages that a seeker goes through when practicing japa. It is the best explanation of japa that I have found from any enlightened teacher. According to Papaji, it is necessary to have an aspect of devotion to God or an enlightened master in order to empower the mantra. A mechanical repetition of a mantra is not useful. In the beginning you repeat a mantra using the voice. In the second stage you repeat the mantra in the mind without saying it out loud. During the third stage you learn to synchronize the mantra with the breath. And eventually the mantra and the breath become one. The mantra is repeated automatically, without your conscious attention. It takes place when you are awake and when you are dreaming. In the last stage you become aware that the mantra is arising from the Heart—the formless unity from which the “I” arises. And the sound of the mantra subsides into the silence of the formless. In the biography, Papaji gives several examples of saints (such as Gandhi) who repeated the name “Ram” as their japa. And the spiritual progress they made seems to indicate that repeating a name of God is a useful practice. Yet Papaji does not recommend japa as a spiritual practice. Papaji had a unique teaching style. He told seekers to keep quiet and not do anything. You should not have any kind of spiritual practice. And you should reject any thoughts that arise in the mind. Any activities or thoughts keep you focused on ob Courtesy Karthik Venkatsubramanian On the night of January 30th, the news of Mahatma Gandhi’s death became known everywhere. I heard the news at home only, because women cannot be in the Ashram in the nights. I went at 7-30 next morning. A prayer was being broadcast over the radio. The news of the death was in the newspapers, and Bhagavan reading it and hearing the prayer,said, “This is the prayer of people who prayed like that throughout his life.” The song “Vaishnava Janato” was broadcast over the radio and Bhagavan listened to it sadly. At 9-45, Bhagavan was about to go out when a newspaper reporter came and requested him to give his views on the tragedy so that they might be published.Bhagavan, his voice choked with emotion, said, “For the Mahatma’s death in this tragic manner, every person’s heart is mourning. What is there in particular that I could say? Who is there who is not grieved? If I say anything, you will publish it and then, one after another, people will come and ask me. What is the good of it?” So saying, Bhagavan sent the reporter away and went for his walk. On his return, “Vaishnava Janato” was again being broadcast and tears fell from Bhagavan’s eyes.At 4-30 that afternoon, all the ladies began to sing “Raghupati Raghava Rajaram”.With tears in his eyes Bhagavan signed to us to continue. At 5 o’clock the conch shell blew and in view of the Mahatma’s death a special arati (waving of lights) was offered in the Mother’s temple. When the sacred ash and vermilion powder were brought,Bhagavan took them with great reverence. All the big politicians of the day, including Nehru, thought the same way [in favor of Partition.] None of these people was going to see Gandhi any more because they knew that he was so vehemently opposed to Partition. So, at the time I was visiting Gandhi, there was only a small group around him. Each evening he would conduct a communal chanting of the name of Ram. I went regularly and became an unofficial attendant. Because he was quite old and frail, I would help him to and from the platform, and if there were any announcements to be made, I would make them at the end of the meeting. On one of these nightly meetings some new person went up to Gandhi to prostrate to him. As he was getting up to leave, he took one of Gandhi’s chappals [sandals] and ran off with it. I wanted to run after him and catch him, but Gandhi stopped me by saying, ‘No! No! Stay here. One is enough.’ At the end of the meeting I made an announcement, asking the person who had stolen the chappal to return it. I added, ‘If the person doesn’t bring it back, Gandhiji will probably walk around with only one chappal’. My appeal had no result, for the chappal never came back. I used to talk to him privately as well, but during our conversations he would never look at me eye to eye. He would always be looking down, usually at the takli on which he was spinning thread. Once he told me as he was spinning a thread, ‘I got this idea that everyone should spin his own thread many years ago when I was travelling in the Punjab. I saw all the Punjabi women spinning in their spare time and I thought, “This is a good idea. Everyone in India could profitably use their spare time in this way.” So I started to encourage people to spin in their spare time everywhere else in India. He 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 wa
Papaji and Mahatma Gandhi