Post by Pathfinder on Nov 29, 2022 14:01:45 GMT
The Sacred Himalayas
The Himalayan ranges extend over almost 1,500 miles in length. Mount
Everest, towering upward over 29,000 feet on the border of Nepal and
Tibet, is the highest of all the mountains in the world. Persians, Indians,
Tibetans, and Chinese have all written about the grandeur and beauty of
these mountains. The word Himalaya comes from Sanskrit words: hima,
meaning “snow,” and alaya, meaning “home”—the home of snows. I would
like to make you aware that the Himalayas are not merely the home of
snow, but that they have also been a stronghold of yogic wisdom and
spirituality for millions of people, regardless of their religious beliefs. This
ancient and rich tradition still exists there today as these unique mountains
continue to whisper their spiritual glory to all who have an ear to hear.
I was born and brought up in the valleys of the Himalayas. I roamed
among them for more than four and a half decades and was educated by
their sages. I met the masters who live and travel there, studied at their feet
and experienced their spiritual wisdom. From the Punjab Himalayas to the
Kumayun and Garhwal Himalayas, from Nepal to Assam, and from Sikkim
to Bhutan and Tibet, I traveled to those forbidden places which are virtually
inaccessible to tourists. I climbed to a height of 19,000 to 20,000 feet
without the help of an oxygen kit or modern equipment. Many times I did
not have food and became unconscious, tired and sometimes wounded, but
always, one way or another, I found help during such occasions.
For me, the Himalayas are my spiritual parents and living there was like
living in the lap of a mother. She brought me up in her natural environment
and inspired me to live a particular style of life. Once when I was fourteen
years old, an unknown sage blessed me and gave me a leaf of bhoja patra,
the paper made of bark on which the ancient scriptures were written. On it
he inscribed, “Let the world be little with you. Let you be on the path of
spirituality.” It is still in my possession.
Let the world be little with you.
Let you be on the path of spirituality.
Awadhoot, Gangotri, 1939
The love I received from the sages is like the perennial snows which
form the silvery glaciers of the Himalayas and then melt into thousands of
streams. When love became the lord of my life, I became quite fearless and
traveled from one cave to another, crossing streams and mountain passes
surrounded by snow-blanketed peaks. In all conditions I was cheerful,
searching for the hidden sages who preferred to remain unknown. Every
breath of my life was enriched with spiritual experiences which may be
difficult for many others to comprehend.
That gentle and amiable sage of the Himalayas had only one entrancing
theme: love—for nature, love—for creatures, and love—for the Whole. The
Himalayan sages taught me the gospel of nature. Then I started listening to
the music coming from the blooming flowers, from the songs of the birds,
and even from the smallest blade of grass and thorn of the bush. In
everything lives the evidence of the beautiful. If one does not learn to listen
to the music of nature and appreciate her beauty, then that which impels
man to seek love at its fountain may be lost in the remotest antiquity. Do
you need psychological analysis to discover in nature the source of so much
happiness, of so many songs, dreams, and beauties? This gospel of nature
speaks its parables from the glacial streams, the valleys laden with lilies, the
forests covered with flowers, and the light of stars. This gospel reveals that
emphatic knowledge through which one learns truth and beholds the good
in all its majesty and glory.
When one learns to hear the music of nature and appreciate her beauty,
then his soul moves in harmony with its entire environment. His every
movement and every sound will surely then find its due place in human
society. The mind of man should be trained to love nature before he looks
through the corridor of his life. Then a revelation comes peeping through
with the dawn. The pain and miseries of life disappear with the darkness
and the mist when the sun rises. Mortality finds its way in the awareness of
immortality. Then a mortal being suffers no more from the pangs and
sorrows which death seems to shower upon him. Death has for ages been a
constant source of misery, but at death man learns to become one with the
infinite and the eternal.
When one learns to appreciate fully the profundity of nature in its
simplicity, then thoughts flow spontaneously in response to the appeals of
his delicate senses when they come in contact with nature. This soulvibrating experience, in its full harmony with the perfect orchestra of
melodies and echos, reflects from the sound of the ripples of the Ganges,
the gushing of the winds, the rustling of leaves, and the roar of thundering
clouds. The light of the self is revealed and all the obstacles are removed.
He ascends the top of the mountain, where he perceives the vast horizon. In
the depth of silence is hidden the source of love. The eye of faith alone can
unveil and see the illumination of that love. This music resounds in my ears
and has become the song of my life.
This discovery of the sages binds the whole of humanity in the harmony
of the cosmos. Sages are the sources from which mankind receives
knowledge and wisdom to behold the light, truth, and beauty which show
the path of freedom and happiness to all. They make humanity aware of the
mere shadows and vain illusions of this world. With their eyes the unity of
the entire universe is best seen.
“The truth is hidden by a golden disc. O Lord! Help us in unveiling so
that we can see the truth.” The gospel of love as taught by the Himalayan
sages makes the whole universe aware of the fountainhead of light, life, and
beauty.
At a young age I sat at the foot of Mount Kailas and drank the glacial
waters of Lake Manasarowar. Often I cooked the vegetables and roots
grown by Mother Nature at Gangotri and Kedarnath. Living in the
Himalayan caves was very pleasant, and when I was there I was in the habit
of roaming through the mountains during the day, taking notes in a
haphazard manner, and returning to my cave before darkness would fall.
My diary is filled with descriptions of my experiences with the sages, yogis,
and other spiritual leaders of the Himalayas.
Temple at Kedarnath
This is a land where Sandhya Bhasha was born. Several modern scholars
have tried to interpret and translate Sandhya Bhasha by calling it “the
twilight language.” Actually, the way I was taught this language, it is
entirely different from the concept the modern writers have of it. It is a
purely yogic language, spoken by only a few fortunate yogis, sages, and
adepts. Philosophically and ideally, it is very similar to Sanskrit, for every
word of Sandhya Bhasha flows full of meaning from its root sound.
Sandhya Bhasha can be used only for the discussion of spiritual matters and
contains no vocabulary for the business affairs of the world. When the sun
weds with the moon, when the day weds with the night, and when ida and
pingala [the left and right energy channels of the human body] equally
flow, that union is called sandhya or sushumna. Sushumna is the mother
from whose womb was born the language Sandhya Bhasha or twilight.
During that period of sushumna the yogi derives the greatest joy that
anyone can consciously experience. When such a yogi speaks with other
adepts, then they converse in this language, which is hard for others to
understand. Knowledge of the appropriate way of chanting the Vedic verses
is slowly diminishing because the grammar of the Vedas is different from
the Sanskrit language. (The grammar of the Vedas is called Nirukta.)
Similarly, the grammar of Sandhya Bhasha is completely based on sounds
and is diminishing. As the musicians of classical music can make notes
from sounds and their pitches, so the notes can be made from the sounds
used in Sandhya Bhasha. It is called “the language of devas” [gods].
When one sits in the mornings and evenings on the tops of the
mountains, he can see beauty all around. If he is a spiritual man, he can
understand how this beauty is an inseparable aspect of the Lord, whose
attributes are Satyam, Shivam, and Sundaram—truth, eternity, and beauty.
This is the land of devas. In the Himalayas, dawn (usha) and twilight
(sandhya—when the day weds the night) are not mere moments created by
the rotation of the earth, but have a deep symbolic meaning.
Morning, afternoon, evening, and night each have their own beauty
which no language can ever describe. Many times a day the mountains
change their colors, because the sun is at the service of these mountains. In
the morning they are silvery, at noon they are golden, and in the evening
they look red. I thought that my own mother was dressing to please me in
many different-colored saris. Do I have vocabulary to explain this beauty
through the language of the lips? It is only the language of the heart in
which I can speak, but the words do not roll down through my lips.
I can give you only a glimpse of these beautiful mountains. Their beauty
is splendid and beyond description. The morning environment in the
Himalayas is so calm and serene that it leads an aspirant spontaneously to
silence. That is why the people of the Himalayas become meditators. Nature
strengthened the schools of meditation. When I lived in my cave, Usha
(dawn), holding the rising sun in her palm, would awaken me every
morning, as though my mother were standing before me. The rays of the
sun penetrated gently through the entrance. (In the cave there lived several
yogis studying the wisdom of the Upanishads at the feet of the master.)
Shivling, towering between Gangotri and Gomukh
In the evening when the weather clears and the sun breaks through the
clouds, it seems as though the mighty Painter were pouring out millions of
colors on the snowy peaks, creating paintings which could never be
duplicated by the brushes and colors of the tiny fingers of artists. Any art
that exists in Tibet, China, India, and Persia has some influence of the
Himalayan beauty on it. A few times I too tried to paint, but I stopped using
my brushes because my paintings seemed to be mere scribbles drawn by a
child. Beauty remains bound within the limitations of human realms if it is
not appreciated heartily. When one becomes aware of the higher level of
beauty which projects itself through nature, he becomes a true artist. When
an artist becomes aware of that fountain from which arises all beauty, then
instead of painting, he starts composing poems. The brush and colors do not
have access to that finest level of consciousness. Spiritual beauty needs to
be expressed on increasingly deeper and more subtle levels.
The most ancient travelers of the Himalayas are the clouds which roll
gently from the Bay of Bengal. Rising from the ocean, these monsoon
clouds travel toward the snowy peaks of the Himalayas, hug them, and
return roaring to the plains, laden with pure snowy waters. They shower
their blessings and bestow them upon the soil of India. Kalidasa, a great
Sanskrit poet known as “the Shakespeare of the East,” composed many
poems about these clouds. Meghadoota is a solitary example of an excellent
collection of these poems. In these poems Kalidasa used the clouds as
messengers to deliver his message to his beloved, who was captive in the
Himalayas. The Ramayana and Mahabharata, famous Indian epics, are full
of praises describing pilgrimages to the Himalayas. Even modern poets of
Hindi and Urdu like Prasad and Ickbal could not resist composing poems on
the Himalayan beauty. Many Sanskrit poems, such as Mahimna-stotra, are
sung as though a traveler were going up and coming down from the
Himalayas. I also used to compose poems and sing, although I was not a
good poet or singer. The classical music of India borrowed ragas like
Pahari from the melodious tunes sung by the girls from the tops of the
mountains. The Himalayas remain replete with mysteries for poets, artists,
musicians, and travelers, but they reveal their most important message only
to those who are prepared. Mystics alone can unveil the real secrets of these
wondrous mountains.
I used to roam in the mountains with my pet bear, who was very loyal to
me. He was fond of me and became very possessive. He wouldn’t hurt
anyone, but would knock down anyone who came near me. I called him
Bhola and he was my finest company during those days. For eleven years
he lived near my cave and would always wait for me to come out. My
master did not approve of my growing attachment to this pet and used to
tease me, calling me a bear charmer. In the morning, carrying a long staff to
help me in climbing, I would go to the mountaintops which were four to six
miles from my cave. I had my diary, a few pencils and the bear Bhola with
me.
After the fifteenth of September it starts snowing in the Himalayas, but I
continued my long walks to the nearby mountaintops, singing the hymns of
the Divine Mother. Occasionally the thought would flash in my mind that
my life belongs to those who follow our tradition. I did not care for my
individuality, but was acutely conscious of the tradition of sages which I
followed. Even though I broke the discipline many times and became
rebellious, I was still forgiven. During those days many profound
psychological and spiritual experiences occurred. Sometimes I felt like a
king but without any burden of the crown on my head. Not having human
company or communication brought me great peace and serenity. I realized
that nature is very peaceful. She disturbs only those who disturb
themselves, but she teaches wisdom to those who admire and appreciate her
beauty. This is especially true in the Himalayas.
Many varieties of flowers are found in abundance in these mountains.
Those with a poetic imagination say that viewed from the snow-covered
mountain peaks, these slopes laden with flower beds look like a magnificent
vase of flowers which a fully prepared disciple would reverently present to
his gurudeva. I would sit next to these natural flower beds and gaze into the
sky, searching for their Gardener.
Among all the flowers grown in the Himalayan valleys, the most
beautiful are the lilies and the orchids. Hundreds of varieties of lilies bloom
after winter is over and sometimes even before snowfall. There is one
variety of lily which is pink and very beautiful. It grows in June and July at
a height of 8,000 to 11,000 feet and is found on the banks of the river Rudra
Garo that joins the Ganges at Gangotri. This same variety of lily also grows
under the trees at Bhoja Basa.
The orchids in the Himalayas are more gorgeous than any other flower.
They grow at a height of 4,000 to 6,000 feet. The heaviest orchid that I ever
found was growing on an oak tree and weighed a little less than one and a
half pounds. Some varieties of these orchids can be found in greenhouses a
few miles from Katmandu, Nepal, but many still remain undiscovered by
horticulturists. During the blossoming season of orchids, the buds, in their
natural obstinacy, delay blooming and sometimes take six to seven days to
open. Orchid flowers are amazingly beautiful and their blooming season
lasts for at least two and a half months.
The mountain cacti bloom suddenly in the moonlit night. They are shy to
the sun’s rays, and before the sun rises their petals withdraw their blooming
beauty, never to bloom again. I know of more than twenty-five varieties of
succulents and cacti in the Himalayas which are used for medicinal
purposes. I was told that the soma creeper comes from the succulent family
and grows at the height of 11,000 to 18,000 feet.
Among the great variety of flowers in the Himalayas there are more than
one hundred and fifty varieties of rhododendron. The most striking of this
species is blue and white. Pink and red varieties are common, and there is
another variety which has multi-colored petals. In the summer, sometimes
an entire valley is laden with rhododendron flowers.
The king of all the Himalayan flowers is the himkamal, or “snow lotus,”
a very rare flower. One day as I was wandering through the mountains I saw
a single blue himkamal as big as a saucer, growing from between two rocks
and half-buried in snow. I started looking at it and my mind entered into a
dialogue with this beautiful snow lotus. I said, “Why are you here all alone?
Your beauty is meant to be adored. You should give yourself to someone
before your petals fall and return to the dust.”
As the breeze blew its stem, it shook and then bent toward me, saying,
“Do you think I am lonely being all alone? All alone means all in one. I
enjoy these heights, the purity, the shelter of the blue umbrella above.”
I wanted to pick the flower and considered pulling it out and taking the
whole plant to my master. I compared my own life to this lotus and said like
an irresponsible, joyous child, “What will happen to you if I crush your
petals?”
The lotus replied, “I will be glad, for my fragrance will radiate
everywhere and the purpose of my life will be fulfilled.”
I pulled the lotus out by its roots and took it to my master, but he was not
appreciative. He had never liked to use flowers and their fragrance except
on a few occasions when he instructed me to collect flowers from the forest
for worship. That was the last day that I ever picked a flower. I felt that I
had been depriving Mother Nature by snatching her child from her lap. I
never picked a flower again. Beauty is to be admired and not to be used,
possessed, or destroyed. Aesthetic sense develops when one starts
appreciating the beauty of nature.
To satisfy and fulfill my desire to be all alone I wandered here and there,
admiring nature just by being with her. Sometimes I would go down to the
snowy streams and look at the ripples kicking each other as they moved
forward. The rivers and streams running from the tops of the glaciers
looked like many long locks of hair. The music created by the streams is
quite exhilarating. I would compare the stream of life with these everflowing streams and watch how a mass of water running toward the ocean
would not leave a gap. The currents would never turn back, but another
mass of water would fill the gap. There was always continuity. Those
streams are like the perennial flow of life. For hours I would watch these
snowy streams flowing from the glaciers and waterfalls. Both banks of the
streams glittered like silver on moonlit nights.
Living in that part of the Himalayas where the Ganges flows, I would
stay seated on its rocky banks and gaze at the blue sky and the clear moon,
which paled its light on the sands. I watched the twinkling lights coming
from the small homes of the distant villages, and when the clouds parted I
saw the sky glittering with the lamps of a million stars. This grand assembly
and long procession of the stars is beyond human imagination. Below on
the earth, the peaks of the Himalayas silently enjoyed this fair of stars.
Some of them seemed as though they were playing hide and seek among the
mountain peaks. In all directions, the mountain peaks and snowy streams
were illuminated with that milky light emanating from the starry multitude
which I remember even today. In the evenings mist formed a thick white
quilt over the Ganges between the two ridges of snowy peaks, and before
sunrise a layer of mist would cover the Ganges like a white blanket. It
seemed as though a sleeping serpent were snoring from beneath it. The rays
of the rising sun rushed to drink these holy waters as eagerly as I rushed to
bathe in the Ganges every morning. The mountain water was crystal clear,
soothing to the eyes, and stimulating to the senses.
There are many rivers that flow from the great Lake Manasarowar at the
foot of Mount Kailas, but of all the rivers which have their source in the
Himalayan mountains, the Ganges is unique. When the Ganges flows from
its sources in the glaciers of Gangotri, it carries in its water a variety of
minerals which have nutritional and therapeutic value. Skin diseases are
rarely found among villagers who live on the banks of the Ganges. A bottle
of Ganges water is kept in every home and practically all of the villagers
give it to a dying person to drink.
This glacier at the base of the Bhagirithi Peaks is the source of the Ganges
When bottled, this water does not become stagnant, and bacteria do not
survive in it, although they do in the water from other rivers. Long ago,
sailors learned that drinking water from the Ganges carried by ships
traveling from Calcutta to London did not stagnate, but water from the
Thames carried by ships traveling from London to India had to be replaced
by fresh water along the way. The unique chemical components and
minerals of this water have been analyzed by many scientists from all over
the world. Dr. Jagdish Chandra Bose, a prominent Indian scientist, analyzed
the Ganges water and concluded: “There seems to be no other river water
like this anywhere in the world. Its mineral qualities have powers to cure
many diseases.”
When the Ganges comes down to the plains, however, it is fed by many
polluted streams and rivers, and the merits of its water are lost. Some of the
villagers throw the bodies of their deceased into the Ganges, believing that
by doing so the souls of their loved ones will go to heaven. Personally I
don’t approve of polluting water and then drinking the same water and
calling it holy. I was instructed by my master not to drink from or bathe in
the water of the Ganges with any idea that by doing so my sins would be
washed off. He taught me the philosophy of karma and said, “One has to
reap the fruits of his karma. The law of karma is inevitable and is accepted
by all the great philosophies of the world: ‘As you sow, so shall you reap.’
Learn to perform your duties skillfully without aversion or attachment, and
do not believe that anything can wash off your bad karma. Taking a bath in
a river and making pilgrimages from one shrine to another will not free you
from the bondage of karma. Such belief is only superstition and has no
logic.”
The rivers flowing from the Himalayas enrich the soil of India and feed
more than 600 million people today, yet some call these mountains poor.
Writers dare say that the Himalayas are economically disappointing, having
few mineral deposits and being unable to support enterprises on a large
scale. I agree with them: economically these mountains are not rich. They
are spiritual mountains and provide for renunciates, not for the materially
wealthy. Those who have tried to explore the riches of the Himalayas from
an economic viewpoint have met with failure, and those who will undertake
such ventures in the future will be similarly disappointed. Himalayan
villages have not received their share of modern education, technology, and
medicine, even though the Himalayas are the reservoirs for the drinking and
irrigation waters for the whole of India. Indian planners are unwise in not
placing greater emphasis on this important resource. However, the
Himalayan inhabitants prefer things to remain as they are. “Leave us alone
without exploitation; just be grateful and respect us from a distance” are the
words I hear from many villagers of the Himalayas.
The economy of the villages is supported by the nearby tiny terraced
fields, where barley, wheat, and lentils are grown. Livestock include
buffaloes, sheep, cattle, ponies, and goats. The villagers living in the Punjab
and Kashmir Himalayas, in the Kumayun and Garhwal Himalayas, and in
the Nepal and Sikkim Himalayas have many common characteristics. They
are poor but honest; they do not steal or quarrel. In the villages high in the
mountains, no one even locks his house—locks are not needed. There are
places of pilgrimage there. If you go to a shrine high in the mountains and
drop your purse on the path, it will still be there when you come back
weeks later. No one will touch it. They consider it disrespectful to touch
somebody else’s things without permission. “Why should we need someone
else’s things?” they will ask. There is no greed, for their needs are few.
They do not suffer from materialistic insanity.
Terraced fields below a Himalayan village
The villagers are dependent on the plains only for salt and for oil to burn
in their lamps. These village societies are less corrupt than most others in
the world because of the people’s simple, honest, and gentle habits. Life
there is calm and peaceful. The people don’t know how to hate anyone.
They don’t understand hatred. These people don’t want to come down to
the plains. When they leave the mountains they do not feel comfortable
around the people of the plains, with their many tricks and games and
pretenses. In the mountain areas most influenced by modern culture,
however, lying and stealing have begun to occur much more frequently.
Modern society is considered to be advanced and cultured, but it is not
genuine. It is cultured like a cultured pearl. Few value genuine pearls today.
The modern human being has weakened himself and his human nature by
culturing it again and again, losing touch with nature and reality. In modern
culture we live for showing off to others, not for serving others. But if you
go to the mountains, no matter who you are the first things they will ask
you are, “Have you taken your food? Do you have a place to stay?”
Anybody there will ask you these things, whether you are friend or stranger.
The people of the Garhwal and Kumayun mountains are intelligent,
cultured, and hospitable. Kangra Valley art and Garhwal art are renowned
for their unique pen and color work. Education in some of these mountain
communities is better than in many other parts of India. The priests of the
different communities know so much about astrology mingled with tantrism
that it sometimes surprises travelers from the plains. The people here lead
simple lives close to nature. They live in beautiful wooden houses and
weave their own clothes. In the evenings they assemble for chanting, and
sing their folklore in beautiful melodies. They dance in a group and sing
folk songs which are harmonious and moving. The mountain drummers are
excellent, and bamboo flutes and jaw harps are used by the shepherds and
schoolchildren. As the girls and boys go to the mountains to fetch grass for
cattle and wood for fuel, they spontaneously compose and sing poems. The
children have their own way of enjoying life by playing hockey and soccer.
Reverence for parents and elders is one of the striking features in the
Himalayan culture.
Most of the trees which grow at heights of 4,000 to 6,000 feet are oaks,
pines, and devadaru (fir) trees of various kinds. In the high mountains,
bhoja patra grows and supplies bark paper, which the villagers use to
record their experiences, their ways of worship, and the usage of the herbs.
Every villager knows something about herbs, which are useful for many
purposes in daily life. All the villages from Kashmir to Punjab, Nepal, and
Sikkim have a reputation for providing strong and healthy soldiers for the
Indian army. The life span of the people is often over one hundred years.
The Himalayan community which lives in the mountains of Pakistan is
called Hunza. There they eat meat, but the community that lives in the
Indian part of the Himalayas is called Hamsa, and is vegetarian. Hamsa
means “swan,” and it is a frequent symbol in Indian mythology. The swan is
said to have the power of separating and drinking only the milk out of a
mixture of milk and water. Similarly, this world is a mixture of two things:
the good and the bad. The wise person selects and takes the good and leaves
the bad.
Throughout these mountains, Shakti worship is prominent, and in every
village there are at least one or two small chapels. The sages, however,
travel and do not form communities such as the villagers do. These sages
are treated very nicely by the villagers and are given free food and shelter.
They come from different cultures and parts of the country (and world) and
live in caves, under trees, or in tiny thatched huts. These dwelling places are
considered temples and are situated outside the villages. There is always at
least one wise man and sometimes several staying there whose bare
necessities are maintained by the villagers. When any wandering sadhu
[renunciate], yogi, or sage comes by, the villagers freely offer whatever
food they have. They enjoy entertaining guests and easily establish
friendship with them. As I traveled throughout the Himalayas I did not
enjoy staying with the villagers or the officers stationed here and there, but
preferred to stay in the hermitages, caves, and thatched huts of these sages.
Culturally the Himalayas are not obstacles, and do not create any barriers
to the countries situated on either side. There are hundreds of communities
and nationalities in these mountains which are conspicuous for the
peculiarities in their ways of life, resulting from some unusual blend of
Indian, Tibetan, and Chinese cultures. Different languages are spoken in
different parts of the Himalayas. I could at one time speak Nepalese,
Garhwali, Kumayuni, Punjabi, and some Tibetan, but I have never learned
the Kashmiri language. Knowledge of these mountain languages helped me
in communicating with the local spiritual leaders and herbalists.
The month of July is the finest month for traveling in the Himalayas. The
snow and glaciers are melting then, and there are thousands of streams
rushing all over. It is not unpleasantly cold, and those who know the nature
of glaciers, avalanches, and landslides can travel comfortably if they are
careful. The dangers of the Himalayan mountains are the same today as
they have always been. Avalanches, fast-running streams and rivers,
overhanging cliffs, and high, towering, snow-covered peaks will not change
their ways for any traveler. Nonetheless, the spiritual heritage of the
Himalayas has long motivated travelers to explore their unknown wisdom.
Over a thousand years ago hundreds of Tibetan and Chinese travelers took
Buddhist literature from India and translated it into their own languages,
thereby disseminating Buddhist teachings to their own countries. The Great
Vehicle of Buddhism, Mahayana, passed across the Himalayan borders, first
to Tibet and then to China, greatly enriching Chinese culture and religion.
The meditative traditions of Zen are aspects of this Buddhism that were
then passed on to Japan. The original teachings were imparted by Indian
teachers who traveled to Tibet and China ten centuries ago. The followers
of Taoism and Confucianism adore the Himalayas and the Himalayan
teachers, for they have received much wisdom from those who traveled and
lived in these mountains. The principle of inaction emphasized by Taoism is
found precisely formulated in the Bhagavad Gita. The concept of nirvana,
clearly present in early Indian philosophy, has influenced all the religions of
Tibet, Mongolia, China, and Japan. Today Tibet is a communist country and
it appears that its ancient wisdom, and the culture based on it, have
vanished. However, the Dalai Lama and a handful of his followers have
migrated to the foothills of the Himalayan mountains in India.
These mountains were my playgrounds. They were like large lawns
spread as though Mother Nature had personally looked after them so that
her children who live in the valleys would remain happy, joyous, and aware
of the purpose of life. It is there that one can come to understand that from
the smallest blade of grass to the highest of mountain peaks, there is no
place for sorrow in life.
My forty-five years of living and traveling with the sages of the
Himalayas, under the guidance of my gurudeva, enabled me to experience
in a few years that which normally would not be possible for anyone to
experience in several lifetimes. I was able to do so because of the grace of
my beloved master, who wanted me to experience, choose, and decide for
myself. This series of experiences and my learning with the sages have
helped me to attain and maintain a center of awareness within. I will tell
you how I grew up and how I was trained, about the great sages with whom
I lived and what they taught me, not through lectures and books but through
experiences. The stories collected here are a record of some of these
experiences.
Whenever I want to tell a story to the world, I think that the world itself
is a story. I pray that others may benefit from these experiences also, and
that is why I talk about them as I lecture and teach. I always say to my
students, “What is that which is mine and what is that which I have not
surrendered to thee?” From these spiritual stories, learn that which is useful
for your growth, and start practicing it, and that which is beyond your
grasp, leave it for now with the narrator. Memories of these experiences
awaken me even today, and I feel the Himalayan mountains are calling me
back.
My Gurudeva and Parents
My father was a well-known learned Sanskrit scholar and a highly spiritual
man. Mostly brahmins lived in his village and they would come to my
father for consultation and to study with him. My parents were moderately
wealthy and generous landowners. My father did not plow his fields
himself, but would share the yields with the field-workers who did.
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The Himalayan ranges extend over almost 1,500 miles in length. Mount
Everest, towering upward over 29,000 feet on the border of Nepal and
Tibet, is the highest of all the mountains in the world. Persians, Indians,
Tibetans, and Chinese have all written about the grandeur and beauty of
these mountains. The word Himalaya comes from Sanskrit words: hima,
meaning “snow,” and alaya, meaning “home”—the home of snows. I would
like to make you aware that the Himalayas are not merely the home of
snow, but that they have also been a stronghold of yogic wisdom and
spirituality for millions of people, regardless of their religious beliefs. This
ancient and rich tradition still exists there today as these unique mountains
continue to whisper their spiritual glory to all who have an ear to hear.
I was born and brought up in the valleys of the Himalayas. I roamed
among them for more than four and a half decades and was educated by
their sages. I met the masters who live and travel there, studied at their feet
and experienced their spiritual wisdom. From the Punjab Himalayas to the
Kumayun and Garhwal Himalayas, from Nepal to Assam, and from Sikkim
to Bhutan and Tibet, I traveled to those forbidden places which are virtually
inaccessible to tourists. I climbed to a height of 19,000 to 20,000 feet
without the help of an oxygen kit or modern equipment. Many times I did
not have food and became unconscious, tired and sometimes wounded, but
always, one way or another, I found help during such occasions.
For me, the Himalayas are my spiritual parents and living there was like
living in the lap of a mother. She brought me up in her natural environment
and inspired me to live a particular style of life. Once when I was fourteen
years old, an unknown sage blessed me and gave me a leaf of bhoja patra,
the paper made of bark on which the ancient scriptures were written. On it
he inscribed, “Let the world be little with you. Let you be on the path of
spirituality.” It is still in my possession.
Let the world be little with you.
Let you be on the path of spirituality.
Awadhoot, Gangotri, 1939
The love I received from the sages is like the perennial snows which
form the silvery glaciers of the Himalayas and then melt into thousands of
streams. When love became the lord of my life, I became quite fearless and
traveled from one cave to another, crossing streams and mountain passes
surrounded by snow-blanketed peaks. In all conditions I was cheerful,
searching for the hidden sages who preferred to remain unknown. Every
breath of my life was enriched with spiritual experiences which may be
difficult for many others to comprehend.
That gentle and amiable sage of the Himalayas had only one entrancing
theme: love—for nature, love—for creatures, and love—for the Whole. The
Himalayan sages taught me the gospel of nature. Then I started listening to
the music coming from the blooming flowers, from the songs of the birds,
and even from the smallest blade of grass and thorn of the bush. In
everything lives the evidence of the beautiful. If one does not learn to listen
to the music of nature and appreciate her beauty, then that which impels
man to seek love at its fountain may be lost in the remotest antiquity. Do
you need psychological analysis to discover in nature the source of so much
happiness, of so many songs, dreams, and beauties? This gospel of nature
speaks its parables from the glacial streams, the valleys laden with lilies, the
forests covered with flowers, and the light of stars. This gospel reveals that
emphatic knowledge through which one learns truth and beholds the good
in all its majesty and glory.
When one learns to hear the music of nature and appreciate her beauty,
then his soul moves in harmony with its entire environment. His every
movement and every sound will surely then find its due place in human
society. The mind of man should be trained to love nature before he looks
through the corridor of his life. Then a revelation comes peeping through
with the dawn. The pain and miseries of life disappear with the darkness
and the mist when the sun rises. Mortality finds its way in the awareness of
immortality. Then a mortal being suffers no more from the pangs and
sorrows which death seems to shower upon him. Death has for ages been a
constant source of misery, but at death man learns to become one with the
infinite and the eternal.
When one learns to appreciate fully the profundity of nature in its
simplicity, then thoughts flow spontaneously in response to the appeals of
his delicate senses when they come in contact with nature. This soulvibrating experience, in its full harmony with the perfect orchestra of
melodies and echos, reflects from the sound of the ripples of the Ganges,
the gushing of the winds, the rustling of leaves, and the roar of thundering
clouds. The light of the self is revealed and all the obstacles are removed.
He ascends the top of the mountain, where he perceives the vast horizon. In
the depth of silence is hidden the source of love. The eye of faith alone can
unveil and see the illumination of that love. This music resounds in my ears
and has become the song of my life.
This discovery of the sages binds the whole of humanity in the harmony
of the cosmos. Sages are the sources from which mankind receives
knowledge and wisdom to behold the light, truth, and beauty which show
the path of freedom and happiness to all. They make humanity aware of the
mere shadows and vain illusions of this world. With their eyes the unity of
the entire universe is best seen.
“The truth is hidden by a golden disc. O Lord! Help us in unveiling so
that we can see the truth.” The gospel of love as taught by the Himalayan
sages makes the whole universe aware of the fountainhead of light, life, and
beauty.
At a young age I sat at the foot of Mount Kailas and drank the glacial
waters of Lake Manasarowar. Often I cooked the vegetables and roots
grown by Mother Nature at Gangotri and Kedarnath. Living in the
Himalayan caves was very pleasant, and when I was there I was in the habit
of roaming through the mountains during the day, taking notes in a
haphazard manner, and returning to my cave before darkness would fall.
My diary is filled with descriptions of my experiences with the sages, yogis,
and other spiritual leaders of the Himalayas.
Temple at Kedarnath
This is a land where Sandhya Bhasha was born. Several modern scholars
have tried to interpret and translate Sandhya Bhasha by calling it “the
twilight language.” Actually, the way I was taught this language, it is
entirely different from the concept the modern writers have of it. It is a
purely yogic language, spoken by only a few fortunate yogis, sages, and
adepts. Philosophically and ideally, it is very similar to Sanskrit, for every
word of Sandhya Bhasha flows full of meaning from its root sound.
Sandhya Bhasha can be used only for the discussion of spiritual matters and
contains no vocabulary for the business affairs of the world. When the sun
weds with the moon, when the day weds with the night, and when ida and
pingala [the left and right energy channels of the human body] equally
flow, that union is called sandhya or sushumna. Sushumna is the mother
from whose womb was born the language Sandhya Bhasha or twilight.
During that period of sushumna the yogi derives the greatest joy that
anyone can consciously experience. When such a yogi speaks with other
adepts, then they converse in this language, which is hard for others to
understand. Knowledge of the appropriate way of chanting the Vedic verses
is slowly diminishing because the grammar of the Vedas is different from
the Sanskrit language. (The grammar of the Vedas is called Nirukta.)
Similarly, the grammar of Sandhya Bhasha is completely based on sounds
and is diminishing. As the musicians of classical music can make notes
from sounds and their pitches, so the notes can be made from the sounds
used in Sandhya Bhasha. It is called “the language of devas” [gods].
When one sits in the mornings and evenings on the tops of the
mountains, he can see beauty all around. If he is a spiritual man, he can
understand how this beauty is an inseparable aspect of the Lord, whose
attributes are Satyam, Shivam, and Sundaram—truth, eternity, and beauty.
This is the land of devas. In the Himalayas, dawn (usha) and twilight
(sandhya—when the day weds the night) are not mere moments created by
the rotation of the earth, but have a deep symbolic meaning.
Morning, afternoon, evening, and night each have their own beauty
which no language can ever describe. Many times a day the mountains
change their colors, because the sun is at the service of these mountains. In
the morning they are silvery, at noon they are golden, and in the evening
they look red. I thought that my own mother was dressing to please me in
many different-colored saris. Do I have vocabulary to explain this beauty
through the language of the lips? It is only the language of the heart in
which I can speak, but the words do not roll down through my lips.
I can give you only a glimpse of these beautiful mountains. Their beauty
is splendid and beyond description. The morning environment in the
Himalayas is so calm and serene that it leads an aspirant spontaneously to
silence. That is why the people of the Himalayas become meditators. Nature
strengthened the schools of meditation. When I lived in my cave, Usha
(dawn), holding the rising sun in her palm, would awaken me every
morning, as though my mother were standing before me. The rays of the
sun penetrated gently through the entrance. (In the cave there lived several
yogis studying the wisdom of the Upanishads at the feet of the master.)
Shivling, towering between Gangotri and Gomukh
In the evening when the weather clears and the sun breaks through the
clouds, it seems as though the mighty Painter were pouring out millions of
colors on the snowy peaks, creating paintings which could never be
duplicated by the brushes and colors of the tiny fingers of artists. Any art
that exists in Tibet, China, India, and Persia has some influence of the
Himalayan beauty on it. A few times I too tried to paint, but I stopped using
my brushes because my paintings seemed to be mere scribbles drawn by a
child. Beauty remains bound within the limitations of human realms if it is
not appreciated heartily. When one becomes aware of the higher level of
beauty which projects itself through nature, he becomes a true artist. When
an artist becomes aware of that fountain from which arises all beauty, then
instead of painting, he starts composing poems. The brush and colors do not
have access to that finest level of consciousness. Spiritual beauty needs to
be expressed on increasingly deeper and more subtle levels.
The most ancient travelers of the Himalayas are the clouds which roll
gently from the Bay of Bengal. Rising from the ocean, these monsoon
clouds travel toward the snowy peaks of the Himalayas, hug them, and
return roaring to the plains, laden with pure snowy waters. They shower
their blessings and bestow them upon the soil of India. Kalidasa, a great
Sanskrit poet known as “the Shakespeare of the East,” composed many
poems about these clouds. Meghadoota is a solitary example of an excellent
collection of these poems. In these poems Kalidasa used the clouds as
messengers to deliver his message to his beloved, who was captive in the
Himalayas. The Ramayana and Mahabharata, famous Indian epics, are full
of praises describing pilgrimages to the Himalayas. Even modern poets of
Hindi and Urdu like Prasad and Ickbal could not resist composing poems on
the Himalayan beauty. Many Sanskrit poems, such as Mahimna-stotra, are
sung as though a traveler were going up and coming down from the
Himalayas. I also used to compose poems and sing, although I was not a
good poet or singer. The classical music of India borrowed ragas like
Pahari from the melodious tunes sung by the girls from the tops of the
mountains. The Himalayas remain replete with mysteries for poets, artists,
musicians, and travelers, but they reveal their most important message only
to those who are prepared. Mystics alone can unveil the real secrets of these
wondrous mountains.
I used to roam in the mountains with my pet bear, who was very loyal to
me. He was fond of me and became very possessive. He wouldn’t hurt
anyone, but would knock down anyone who came near me. I called him
Bhola and he was my finest company during those days. For eleven years
he lived near my cave and would always wait for me to come out. My
master did not approve of my growing attachment to this pet and used to
tease me, calling me a bear charmer. In the morning, carrying a long staff to
help me in climbing, I would go to the mountaintops which were four to six
miles from my cave. I had my diary, a few pencils and the bear Bhola with
me.
After the fifteenth of September it starts snowing in the Himalayas, but I
continued my long walks to the nearby mountaintops, singing the hymns of
the Divine Mother. Occasionally the thought would flash in my mind that
my life belongs to those who follow our tradition. I did not care for my
individuality, but was acutely conscious of the tradition of sages which I
followed. Even though I broke the discipline many times and became
rebellious, I was still forgiven. During those days many profound
psychological and spiritual experiences occurred. Sometimes I felt like a
king but without any burden of the crown on my head. Not having human
company or communication brought me great peace and serenity. I realized
that nature is very peaceful. She disturbs only those who disturb
themselves, but she teaches wisdom to those who admire and appreciate her
beauty. This is especially true in the Himalayas.
Many varieties of flowers are found in abundance in these mountains.
Those with a poetic imagination say that viewed from the snow-covered
mountain peaks, these slopes laden with flower beds look like a magnificent
vase of flowers which a fully prepared disciple would reverently present to
his gurudeva. I would sit next to these natural flower beds and gaze into the
sky, searching for their Gardener.
Among all the flowers grown in the Himalayan valleys, the most
beautiful are the lilies and the orchids. Hundreds of varieties of lilies bloom
after winter is over and sometimes even before snowfall. There is one
variety of lily which is pink and very beautiful. It grows in June and July at
a height of 8,000 to 11,000 feet and is found on the banks of the river Rudra
Garo that joins the Ganges at Gangotri. This same variety of lily also grows
under the trees at Bhoja Basa.
The orchids in the Himalayas are more gorgeous than any other flower.
They grow at a height of 4,000 to 6,000 feet. The heaviest orchid that I ever
found was growing on an oak tree and weighed a little less than one and a
half pounds. Some varieties of these orchids can be found in greenhouses a
few miles from Katmandu, Nepal, but many still remain undiscovered by
horticulturists. During the blossoming season of orchids, the buds, in their
natural obstinacy, delay blooming and sometimes take six to seven days to
open. Orchid flowers are amazingly beautiful and their blooming season
lasts for at least two and a half months.
The mountain cacti bloom suddenly in the moonlit night. They are shy to
the sun’s rays, and before the sun rises their petals withdraw their blooming
beauty, never to bloom again. I know of more than twenty-five varieties of
succulents and cacti in the Himalayas which are used for medicinal
purposes. I was told that the soma creeper comes from the succulent family
and grows at the height of 11,000 to 18,000 feet.
Among the great variety of flowers in the Himalayas there are more than
one hundred and fifty varieties of rhododendron. The most striking of this
species is blue and white. Pink and red varieties are common, and there is
another variety which has multi-colored petals. In the summer, sometimes
an entire valley is laden with rhododendron flowers.
The king of all the Himalayan flowers is the himkamal, or “snow lotus,”
a very rare flower. One day as I was wandering through the mountains I saw
a single blue himkamal as big as a saucer, growing from between two rocks
and half-buried in snow. I started looking at it and my mind entered into a
dialogue with this beautiful snow lotus. I said, “Why are you here all alone?
Your beauty is meant to be adored. You should give yourself to someone
before your petals fall and return to the dust.”
As the breeze blew its stem, it shook and then bent toward me, saying,
“Do you think I am lonely being all alone? All alone means all in one. I
enjoy these heights, the purity, the shelter of the blue umbrella above.”
I wanted to pick the flower and considered pulling it out and taking the
whole plant to my master. I compared my own life to this lotus and said like
an irresponsible, joyous child, “What will happen to you if I crush your
petals?”
The lotus replied, “I will be glad, for my fragrance will radiate
everywhere and the purpose of my life will be fulfilled.”
I pulled the lotus out by its roots and took it to my master, but he was not
appreciative. He had never liked to use flowers and their fragrance except
on a few occasions when he instructed me to collect flowers from the forest
for worship. That was the last day that I ever picked a flower. I felt that I
had been depriving Mother Nature by snatching her child from her lap. I
never picked a flower again. Beauty is to be admired and not to be used,
possessed, or destroyed. Aesthetic sense develops when one starts
appreciating the beauty of nature.
To satisfy and fulfill my desire to be all alone I wandered here and there,
admiring nature just by being with her. Sometimes I would go down to the
snowy streams and look at the ripples kicking each other as they moved
forward. The rivers and streams running from the tops of the glaciers
looked like many long locks of hair. The music created by the streams is
quite exhilarating. I would compare the stream of life with these everflowing streams and watch how a mass of water running toward the ocean
would not leave a gap. The currents would never turn back, but another
mass of water would fill the gap. There was always continuity. Those
streams are like the perennial flow of life. For hours I would watch these
snowy streams flowing from the glaciers and waterfalls. Both banks of the
streams glittered like silver on moonlit nights.
Living in that part of the Himalayas where the Ganges flows, I would
stay seated on its rocky banks and gaze at the blue sky and the clear moon,
which paled its light on the sands. I watched the twinkling lights coming
from the small homes of the distant villages, and when the clouds parted I
saw the sky glittering with the lamps of a million stars. This grand assembly
and long procession of the stars is beyond human imagination. Below on
the earth, the peaks of the Himalayas silently enjoyed this fair of stars.
Some of them seemed as though they were playing hide and seek among the
mountain peaks. In all directions, the mountain peaks and snowy streams
were illuminated with that milky light emanating from the starry multitude
which I remember even today. In the evenings mist formed a thick white
quilt over the Ganges between the two ridges of snowy peaks, and before
sunrise a layer of mist would cover the Ganges like a white blanket. It
seemed as though a sleeping serpent were snoring from beneath it. The rays
of the rising sun rushed to drink these holy waters as eagerly as I rushed to
bathe in the Ganges every morning. The mountain water was crystal clear,
soothing to the eyes, and stimulating to the senses.
There are many rivers that flow from the great Lake Manasarowar at the
foot of Mount Kailas, but of all the rivers which have their source in the
Himalayan mountains, the Ganges is unique. When the Ganges flows from
its sources in the glaciers of Gangotri, it carries in its water a variety of
minerals which have nutritional and therapeutic value. Skin diseases are
rarely found among villagers who live on the banks of the Ganges. A bottle
of Ganges water is kept in every home and practically all of the villagers
give it to a dying person to drink.
This glacier at the base of the Bhagirithi Peaks is the source of the Ganges
When bottled, this water does not become stagnant, and bacteria do not
survive in it, although they do in the water from other rivers. Long ago,
sailors learned that drinking water from the Ganges carried by ships
traveling from Calcutta to London did not stagnate, but water from the
Thames carried by ships traveling from London to India had to be replaced
by fresh water along the way. The unique chemical components and
minerals of this water have been analyzed by many scientists from all over
the world. Dr. Jagdish Chandra Bose, a prominent Indian scientist, analyzed
the Ganges water and concluded: “There seems to be no other river water
like this anywhere in the world. Its mineral qualities have powers to cure
many diseases.”
When the Ganges comes down to the plains, however, it is fed by many
polluted streams and rivers, and the merits of its water are lost. Some of the
villagers throw the bodies of their deceased into the Ganges, believing that
by doing so the souls of their loved ones will go to heaven. Personally I
don’t approve of polluting water and then drinking the same water and
calling it holy. I was instructed by my master not to drink from or bathe in
the water of the Ganges with any idea that by doing so my sins would be
washed off. He taught me the philosophy of karma and said, “One has to
reap the fruits of his karma. The law of karma is inevitable and is accepted
by all the great philosophies of the world: ‘As you sow, so shall you reap.’
Learn to perform your duties skillfully without aversion or attachment, and
do not believe that anything can wash off your bad karma. Taking a bath in
a river and making pilgrimages from one shrine to another will not free you
from the bondage of karma. Such belief is only superstition and has no
logic.”
The rivers flowing from the Himalayas enrich the soil of India and feed
more than 600 million people today, yet some call these mountains poor.
Writers dare say that the Himalayas are economically disappointing, having
few mineral deposits and being unable to support enterprises on a large
scale. I agree with them: economically these mountains are not rich. They
are spiritual mountains and provide for renunciates, not for the materially
wealthy. Those who have tried to explore the riches of the Himalayas from
an economic viewpoint have met with failure, and those who will undertake
such ventures in the future will be similarly disappointed. Himalayan
villages have not received their share of modern education, technology, and
medicine, even though the Himalayas are the reservoirs for the drinking and
irrigation waters for the whole of India. Indian planners are unwise in not
placing greater emphasis on this important resource. However, the
Himalayan inhabitants prefer things to remain as they are. “Leave us alone
without exploitation; just be grateful and respect us from a distance” are the
words I hear from many villagers of the Himalayas.
The economy of the villages is supported by the nearby tiny terraced
fields, where barley, wheat, and lentils are grown. Livestock include
buffaloes, sheep, cattle, ponies, and goats. The villagers living in the Punjab
and Kashmir Himalayas, in the Kumayun and Garhwal Himalayas, and in
the Nepal and Sikkim Himalayas have many common characteristics. They
are poor but honest; they do not steal or quarrel. In the villages high in the
mountains, no one even locks his house—locks are not needed. There are
places of pilgrimage there. If you go to a shrine high in the mountains and
drop your purse on the path, it will still be there when you come back
weeks later. No one will touch it. They consider it disrespectful to touch
somebody else’s things without permission. “Why should we need someone
else’s things?” they will ask. There is no greed, for their needs are few.
They do not suffer from materialistic insanity.
Terraced fields below a Himalayan village
The villagers are dependent on the plains only for salt and for oil to burn
in their lamps. These village societies are less corrupt than most others in
the world because of the people’s simple, honest, and gentle habits. Life
there is calm and peaceful. The people don’t know how to hate anyone.
They don’t understand hatred. These people don’t want to come down to
the plains. When they leave the mountains they do not feel comfortable
around the people of the plains, with their many tricks and games and
pretenses. In the mountain areas most influenced by modern culture,
however, lying and stealing have begun to occur much more frequently.
Modern society is considered to be advanced and cultured, but it is not
genuine. It is cultured like a cultured pearl. Few value genuine pearls today.
The modern human being has weakened himself and his human nature by
culturing it again and again, losing touch with nature and reality. In modern
culture we live for showing off to others, not for serving others. But if you
go to the mountains, no matter who you are the first things they will ask
you are, “Have you taken your food? Do you have a place to stay?”
Anybody there will ask you these things, whether you are friend or stranger.
The people of the Garhwal and Kumayun mountains are intelligent,
cultured, and hospitable. Kangra Valley art and Garhwal art are renowned
for their unique pen and color work. Education in some of these mountain
communities is better than in many other parts of India. The priests of the
different communities know so much about astrology mingled with tantrism
that it sometimes surprises travelers from the plains. The people here lead
simple lives close to nature. They live in beautiful wooden houses and
weave their own clothes. In the evenings they assemble for chanting, and
sing their folklore in beautiful melodies. They dance in a group and sing
folk songs which are harmonious and moving. The mountain drummers are
excellent, and bamboo flutes and jaw harps are used by the shepherds and
schoolchildren. As the girls and boys go to the mountains to fetch grass for
cattle and wood for fuel, they spontaneously compose and sing poems. The
children have their own way of enjoying life by playing hockey and soccer.
Reverence for parents and elders is one of the striking features in the
Himalayan culture.
Most of the trees which grow at heights of 4,000 to 6,000 feet are oaks,
pines, and devadaru (fir) trees of various kinds. In the high mountains,
bhoja patra grows and supplies bark paper, which the villagers use to
record their experiences, their ways of worship, and the usage of the herbs.
Every villager knows something about herbs, which are useful for many
purposes in daily life. All the villages from Kashmir to Punjab, Nepal, and
Sikkim have a reputation for providing strong and healthy soldiers for the
Indian army. The life span of the people is often over one hundred years.
The Himalayan community which lives in the mountains of Pakistan is
called Hunza. There they eat meat, but the community that lives in the
Indian part of the Himalayas is called Hamsa, and is vegetarian. Hamsa
means “swan,” and it is a frequent symbol in Indian mythology. The swan is
said to have the power of separating and drinking only the milk out of a
mixture of milk and water. Similarly, this world is a mixture of two things:
the good and the bad. The wise person selects and takes the good and leaves
the bad.
Throughout these mountains, Shakti worship is prominent, and in every
village there are at least one or two small chapels. The sages, however,
travel and do not form communities such as the villagers do. These sages
are treated very nicely by the villagers and are given free food and shelter.
They come from different cultures and parts of the country (and world) and
live in caves, under trees, or in tiny thatched huts. These dwelling places are
considered temples and are situated outside the villages. There is always at
least one wise man and sometimes several staying there whose bare
necessities are maintained by the villagers. When any wandering sadhu
[renunciate], yogi, or sage comes by, the villagers freely offer whatever
food they have. They enjoy entertaining guests and easily establish
friendship with them. As I traveled throughout the Himalayas I did not
enjoy staying with the villagers or the officers stationed here and there, but
preferred to stay in the hermitages, caves, and thatched huts of these sages.
Culturally the Himalayas are not obstacles, and do not create any barriers
to the countries situated on either side. There are hundreds of communities
and nationalities in these mountains which are conspicuous for the
peculiarities in their ways of life, resulting from some unusual blend of
Indian, Tibetan, and Chinese cultures. Different languages are spoken in
different parts of the Himalayas. I could at one time speak Nepalese,
Garhwali, Kumayuni, Punjabi, and some Tibetan, but I have never learned
the Kashmiri language. Knowledge of these mountain languages helped me
in communicating with the local spiritual leaders and herbalists.
The month of July is the finest month for traveling in the Himalayas. The
snow and glaciers are melting then, and there are thousands of streams
rushing all over. It is not unpleasantly cold, and those who know the nature
of glaciers, avalanches, and landslides can travel comfortably if they are
careful. The dangers of the Himalayan mountains are the same today as
they have always been. Avalanches, fast-running streams and rivers,
overhanging cliffs, and high, towering, snow-covered peaks will not change
their ways for any traveler. Nonetheless, the spiritual heritage of the
Himalayas has long motivated travelers to explore their unknown wisdom.
Over a thousand years ago hundreds of Tibetan and Chinese travelers took
Buddhist literature from India and translated it into their own languages,
thereby disseminating Buddhist teachings to their own countries. The Great
Vehicle of Buddhism, Mahayana, passed across the Himalayan borders, first
to Tibet and then to China, greatly enriching Chinese culture and religion.
The meditative traditions of Zen are aspects of this Buddhism that were
then passed on to Japan. The original teachings were imparted by Indian
teachers who traveled to Tibet and China ten centuries ago. The followers
of Taoism and Confucianism adore the Himalayas and the Himalayan
teachers, for they have received much wisdom from those who traveled and
lived in these mountains. The principle of inaction emphasized by Taoism is
found precisely formulated in the Bhagavad Gita. The concept of nirvana,
clearly present in early Indian philosophy, has influenced all the religions of
Tibet, Mongolia, China, and Japan. Today Tibet is a communist country and
it appears that its ancient wisdom, and the culture based on it, have
vanished. However, the Dalai Lama and a handful of his followers have
migrated to the foothills of the Himalayan mountains in India.
These mountains were my playgrounds. They were like large lawns
spread as though Mother Nature had personally looked after them so that
her children who live in the valleys would remain happy, joyous, and aware
of the purpose of life. It is there that one can come to understand that from
the smallest blade of grass to the highest of mountain peaks, there is no
place for sorrow in life.
My forty-five years of living and traveling with the sages of the
Himalayas, under the guidance of my gurudeva, enabled me to experience
in a few years that which normally would not be possible for anyone to
experience in several lifetimes. I was able to do so because of the grace of
my beloved master, who wanted me to experience, choose, and decide for
myself. This series of experiences and my learning with the sages have
helped me to attain and maintain a center of awareness within. I will tell
you how I grew up and how I was trained, about the great sages with whom
I lived and what they taught me, not through lectures and books but through
experiences. The stories collected here are a record of some of these
experiences.
Whenever I want to tell a story to the world, I think that the world itself
is a story. I pray that others may benefit from these experiences also, and
that is why I talk about them as I lecture and teach. I always say to my
students, “What is that which is mine and what is that which I have not
surrendered to thee?” From these spiritual stories, learn that which is useful
for your growth, and start practicing it, and that which is beyond your
grasp, leave it for now with the narrator. Memories of these experiences
awaken me even today, and I feel the Himalayan mountains are calling me
back.
My Gurudeva and Parents
My father was a well-known learned Sanskrit scholar and a highly spiritual
man. Mostly brahmins lived in his village and they would come to my
father for consultation and to study with him. My parents were moderately
wealthy and generous landowners. My father did not plow his fields
himself, but would share the yields with the field-workers who did.
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