THE CONSUMMATION

 

Barely ten days had elapsed before Jaimal Singh, passing through Hapur and the holy town of Mathura, arrived at the gates of Agra. It is a city famous since the days of the great Moghuls; and many a tourist from far and near, from beyond the Atlantic and the Pacific, has had glimpses of ist magnificent Taj and other historic monuments as well as its sultry heat and dusty streets. But the youth from the Punjab had not come to view its historic splendor; he had no flair for its gorgeous and massive mausoieums, forts and palaces built by Akbar and his illustrious successors.

 

What he sought was not the reminiscences of time but the enlivening breath of the Eternal. Instead of visiting the Taj he explored the local shrines and temples in search of the boon that had been promised him. But try as he might, his explorations seemed to lead nowhere. He could find no clue to the man he sought. Were his hopes baseless? Was the promise given him at Peshawar and confirmed in the heart of a forest on the banks of the sacred Ganges only a hoax and a delusion? Perhaps there had been error? Perhaps he was not yet ripe for the gift? Many thoughts crowded Jaimal Singh's mind as he sat contemplating on the banks of the Jamuna one morning after having bathed in its waters. While he sat this morning, two men approached him, discussing personal matters. At first he took scant notice of them for many came daily for a dip in the sacred river. But then a word shot through his ears and he was all attention. Yes, they were talking of a "Swami Ji," a great sage, who often discoursed on the Sikh scriptures at his home to a small audience. Jaimal Singh was on his feet. He accosted the strangers, inquired of them about the great man of whom they spoke and begged to be conducted to his dwelling. As soon as the two devotees had finished bathing, they set out with Jaimal Singh for Punni Gali where lived the great Swami Ji. When the three reached their destination, the Master was speaking on the Jap Ji, expounding ist profound meaning and unearthing the spiritual treasures hidden in its lyrical ecstacy. There were only a few listeners and Jaimal Singh slipped quietly into a corner. He heard the discourse with rapt attention, drinking in every word that fell from the lips of the Saint.

 

When the morning assembly was over, Swami Ji welcomed his new visitor and asked him what he wanted.

 

"I am in search of the gift of Naam and a Saint who can bestow its blessing upon me," replied Jaimal Singh.

 

"I heard of your greatness and have hastened to your door."

 

"I am afraid you will find no Saint here," smiled the radiant Swami Ji. "I am only a mere servant of the Saints. Even the great Nanak regarded himself as no Saint; then how can a mere nothing like myself be of any consequence?"

 

He then welcomed Jaimal once more, assuring him that he could stay there as long as he pleased, for all were free to share the bounty of the Sahib, the Lord above.

 

Later that day Swami Ji spoke to Jaimal Singh again. Pleased with his deep immersion in the Granth Sahib, he asked him to recite one of his favorite hymns. The youth began melodiously to chant the piece beginning:

         

Karam hovae Satguru milae

Sewa Surat Shabd chit lae

  

By the grace of God one can meet a Master

who puts him on the service of Surat Shabd Yoga.

                                          

RAG MAGH M.3

 

 

The recitation was moving. It was clear that the speaker had himself felt with deep intensity what he chanted. When it was over, Swami Ji asked him if he understood the full meaning of the verses he had just rendered.

 

"O Holy One!" came the answer, "if I had understood their true import, why then should I wander lost in this fashion?"

 

And as he spoke these words and recalled his long journeys and the many vicissitudes he had, Jaimal Singh's eyes brimmed with tears and silently overflowed.

 

Swami Ji placed his hand lovingly on the youth's back and reassured him. "Be of good cheer," he said. "We are old comrades and there is no cause for worry." Then taking up the hymn that had been just recited, he expounded ist spiritual meaning at length, weaving with subtlety the threads of personal effort and divine grace essential for the salvation of the human soul.

 

Next morning Swami Ji resumed his discourse on the Jap Ji. When it was over, he turned toward Jaimal Singh and suggested, "If you have any doubts or questions, why not clarify them now? Speak your mind fully. I am only a humble servant of the Lord, and one may say anything to a servant - anything - high or low; don't be afraid, but speak frankly. I would be only too happy to be of some assistance to you for I regard this as my service to my Guru."

 

Later that afternoon Swami Ji once again requested Jaimal to recite a hymn from the Sikh scriptures, and the Sikh youth began chanting:

          

          

Utpat, Parlae, Shabde hovae

Shabde he phir opat hovae

  

Creation and dissolution is caused by Shabd and

the creation again comes into being by Shabd.

                                      

                                        RAG MAGH M.3

 

 

The afternoon talk centered around this hymn, and the Master took up at length the theme of Shabd or Naam, answering one after another Jaimal Singh's as yet unvoiced questions on the subject. He showed how the Word was the primal cause of creation as well as of its dissolution; how it was at once the agent of the Almighty Absolute and itself the Absolute. Without its power nothing was created, and only through contacting it could one reach back to one's heavenly home. When all had departed and Jaimal Singh was left alone with Swami Ji, he drew closer and began to question the Saint on the way to salvation. He was convinced that the Agra sage was a true Master, but the fact that he was not a Sikh and smoked the hookah caused him some uneasiness.

But as Swami Ji took up the subject of salvation and began revealing how Shabd was the only means of mukti, how its contact could be given only by a Puran Sant, a perfect Master, how man without it could never fully escape the meshes of Maya, and how its practice and mastery lay within the reach of all regardless of their differences of sect and custom, Jaimal's doubts were dissipated and he begged to be initiated. Swami Ji then began to instruct him into the theory and practice of Surat Shabd Yoga, and when the instructions were over, asking the youth of seventeen to sit down for meditation, he left the room. As soon as Jaimal Singh sat down for meditation, he got lost in samadhi. The night came and passed away, the day broke, but he continued motionless, lost in the inner bliss he had discovered. Another day saw itself swallowed by the night, and the night saw itself replaced by another day, and yet the youth sat lost to the world around him.

 

When some forty-eight hours had thus gone by, Swami Ji asked some of the disciples if they knew where the visitor from the Punjab had disappeared. "We saw him two days ago at the Satsang," they said, "but we have not seen him since." Swami Ji smiled and proceeded straight to the little room where he had left his latest disciple and which none had entered for two days. He placed his hand on Jaimal Singh's head, and when the later's soul returned to normal physical consciousness and he opened his eyes, he saw his Guru beaming at him."Do you, my boy, still doubt if your Master be a true Sikh or not?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye. The lad wished to fall at his feet but the long spell of samadhi had left his joints numb and still. Swami Ji suggested that he rub his legs, and when Jaimal could move, he conducted him outside. There he gave him a drink of milk with his own hands, and gazing at him fondly, he said: "You

too shall do one day the work I carry on now. Our path is not concerned with outer forms and rituals and each of us must live by the best traditions of the community in which the Lord has been pleased to place us."

 

He then began commending the teachings of Nanak and the Sikh Gurus and said that those who were their followers needed little instruction. "Always abide by the injunctions of the Granth Sahib," he continued.

 

"Abstain from meat and drink. Never depend for your sustenance on others but live by the labor of your own hands. Whatever you earn share freely with the needy and remember to serve the holy and the poor. And above all never be proud of your own good deeds or critical of the actions of others, but know  yourself to be in error, and never step outside the virtue of inner humility."

 

 

Jaimal Singh heard with reverent attention his Master's advice and ever afterward tried to model himself on the same. He devotedly attended the daily Satsang and assisted in whatever manner lay within his reach. His past training had disciplined him well for his spiritual sadhna, and he would devote himself untiringly to Bhajan. Under Swami Ji's guidance and with his phenomenal inner progress, new mysteries were daily revealed to him, the mysteries of which Nanak, Kabir and Tulsi had so ecstatically sung. In those days during the mid-fifties, Swami Ji did not have a large following. He had not yet begun giving public discourses, and confined his meetings to small private audiences at his home in Punni Gali after having discontinued his talks at the Mai Than Gurdwara. Seven or eight of his disciples were especially devoted to him and constantly sought his company and there was great affection and harmony. Every morning the Master gave an inspiring talk, displaying before his listeners' eyes the spiritual treasures hidden in the Granth Sahib or the writings of Kabir and other great Saints. After the morning Satsang those present sat down for their meals. The food was cooked by Swami Ji's wife, Srimati Narain Devi, who came subsequently to be addressed as Radha Ji as a mark of public respect and adoration; while Swami Ji personally served the food to all with loving attention to each. In the afternoons and evenings there would often be informal conversations and discussions and at times regular discourses.

 

A month and a half passed by in this way. Jaimal Singh was happy to live at the feet of his benevolent Master. It was the year 1856, and a regiment of Indian sepoys, including several Sikhs, was about this time stationed a Agra. At the instance of Swami Ji, Jaimal Singh joined up as a recruit. He would attend his morning parade and duties over, hasten to his Guru's door. There he would attend the Satsang, hear Swami Ji, sit for meditation and return to his quarters in

the cantonment at night. His army colleagues would often ask him where he spent much of his time. When he told them of the greatness of Swami Ji, some of his Sikh friends wished to meet the illustrious Saint, and one day accompanied by six of them Jaimal Singh set forth for Punni Gali.

 

Swami Ji was discoursing on some hymn from the Granth Sahib when the group from the cantonment arrived.  Chacha Partap Singh good-humoredly remarked that the Punjab seemed to dominate the Satsang that day. Swami Ji turned to him and said:

 

"The people of that land above all others have a right to the spiritual riches of which I speak. Who can ever do justice to the glory of Punjab that bore a soul like Nanak?

 

He above all taught us that freedom does not lie in idol- worship or in rituals, and while we in these parts are still lost in ceremony and idolatry, insensitive to the message of Kabir and Nanak, the souls of Punjab are free from such evils and need only a spark to set them ablaze. Mark my words for they are worth remembering: the gift bestowed upon me by the Lord shall flower one day on the plains of the Punjab."

 

Then turning to his visitors, he welcomed them, entertained them as best as he could, bade their leader Jaimal Singh to be regular in his army duties, and when the time came for their departure, wished thern farewell. The light army duties left Jaimal Singh ample time for meditation. If he had no night duty, he would get up at 2 A.M., bathe, and sit down for meditation. During the day, as soon as the parade and other normal duties were over, he would engage himself in like manner or hasten to the home of Swami Ji. He was known for not wasting a single moment on pastimes popular among his fellow soldiers. He visited Punni Gali with great regularity, and often acted there as Swami Ji's pathi or reciter; and many of his friends, because of his impact, became his Master's disciples. Life was peaceful and happy and was bearing steady fruit. But a day arrived when the regiment was ordered to move from Agra. Heavy of heart, Jaimal Singh met his Master and sadly related the news. "Oh Sir!" he said, "how I yearn to enjoy the blessings of Satsang a little longer." Swami Ji smiled and replied, "Well, let us wait and watch for the Will of the Sahib." Next day fresh orders arrived canceling the departure of the regiment. Jaimal Singh was making speedy inner headway. He often told Swami Ji of his various spiritual experiences and his Guru was pleased with his progress. Once when he told him of his ready access to Dasam Dwar (the Tenth Gate - the third major stage of the mystic soul) but his inability to penetrate beyond it, Swami Ji exclaimed: "Ah! That is quite understandable. We have worked at this spiritual exploration together before, and in your last life you mastered up to the third stage. Hence your ease in progressing thus far and your subsequent difficulty." He however reassured his young disciple and encouraged him to keep up his effort.

 

When the latter one day reported still higher ascent, Swami Ji was mightily pleased and declared enthusiastically: "Continue in this fashion and you will soon be ready to help other souls to salvation. You have been born to help mankind, and between you and me is no real difference."

 

"I am not worthy of such honor. Oh, let me be humbly at your feet, far from the fangs of pride."

 

"Fear not, a true Saint can never be proud."

 

"Oh Sir, keep me at your feet, the servant of the servants of Saints. That is all I ask."

 

"You shall indeed have a Saint's service: saving humanity, bringing it to truth and spiritual liberation. What is the giving away of a million cows to the saving of a single soul?"

 

"You may do as you judge best, but as for myself I know only too well my worthlessness and limitations."

 

The six months for which the regiment's departure was postponed were over and Jaimal Singh had to go. He took leave for the last three days and spent them in the company of his Master. When at last the time for bidding farewell drew near, Jaimal Singh could bear it no longer.

 

"My heart breaks at the thought of parting. If you so will, I can have my name struck from the army rolls."

 

But Swami Ji would not hear of such a thing: "Build your love on the Shabd within. That is your real Guru and is ever at your side. All else is transient and must be left behind. You must earn your living for if you depend on the labor of others, you must pay for it with your mental peace, and your understanding will be clouded. If you have to work, then why leave the army?"

 

Jaimal Singh had no choice but to bow before the superior wisdom of his Master. At parting, Swami Ji spoke of the nature of Sainthood and the conduct of Saints. He related anecdotes of their great humility and, when bidding farewell, said: "Your regiment is now leaving. If you ever meet a true seeker, put him on the inner path, but remember always that you are only a humble instrument of the Saints." Tears filled the young soldier's eyes as he fell at the feet of his Guru and bade him adieu.

 

 

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