Friday, 23 December 2011

EXTRACTS FROM COMPLETE WORKS OF SWAMI VIVEKANANDA

What we want is strength, so believe in yourselves. We have become weak, and that is why occultism and mysticism come to us — these creepy things; there may be great truths in them, but they have nearly destroyed us. Make your nerves strong. What we want is muscles of iron and nerves of steel. We have wept long enough. No more weeping, but stand on your feet and be men. It is a man-making religion that we want. It is man-making theories that we want. It is man-making education all round that we want. And here is the test of truth — anything that makes you weak physically, intellectually, and spiritually, reject as poison; there is no life in it, it cannot be true. Truth is strengthening. Truth is purity, truth is all-knowledge; truth must be strengthening, must be enlightening, must be invigorating. These mysticisms, in spite of some grains of truth in them, are generally weakening. Believe me, I have a lifelong experience of it, and the one conclusion that I draw is that it is weakening. I have travelled all over India, searched almost every cave here, and lived in the Himalayas. I know people who lived there all their lives. I love my nation, I cannot see you degraded, weakened any more than you are now. Therefore I am bound for your sake and for truth's sake to cry, "Hold!" and to raise my voice against this degradation of my race. Give up these weakening mysticisms and be strong.
I believe in patriotism, and I also have my own ideal of patriotism. Three things are necessary for great achievements. First, feel from the heart. What is in the intellect or reason? It goes a few steps and there it stops. But through the heart comes inspiration. Love opens the most impossible gates; love is the gate to all the secrets of the universe. Feel, therefore, my would-be reformers, my would-be patriots! Do you feel? Do you feel that millions and millions of the descendants of gods and of sages have become next-door neighbours to brutes? Do you feel that millions are starving today, and millions have been starving for ages? Do you feel that ignorance has come over the land as a dark cloud? Does it make you restless? Does it make you sleepless? Has it gone into your blood, coursing through your veins, becoming consonant with your heartbeats? Has it made you almost mad? Are you seized with that one idea of the misery of ruin, and have you forgotten all about your name, your fame, your wives, your children, your property, even your own bodies? Have you done that? That is the first step to become a patriot, the very first step.
Yet that is not all. Have you got the will to surmount mountain-high obstructions? If the whole world stands against you sword in hand, would you still dare to do what you think is right? If your wives and children are against you, if all your money goes, your name dies, your wealth vanishes, would you still stick to it? Would you still pursue it and go on steadily towards your own goal? As the great King Bhartrihari says, "Let the sages blame or let them praise; let the goddess of fortune come or let her go wherever she likes; let death come today, or let it come in hundreds of years; he indeed is the steady man who does not move one inch from the way of truth." Have you got that steadfastness? If you have these three things, each one of you will work miracles. You need not write in the newspapers, you need not go about lecturing; your very face will shine. If you live in a cave, your thoughts will permeate even through the rock walls, will go vibrating all over the world for hundreds of years, maybe, until they will fasten on to some brain and work out there. Such is the power of thought, of sincerity, and of purity of purpose.

 attempting to think that you can do anything for any one! Hands off! The Divine will look after all. Who are you to assume that you know everything? How dare you think, that you have the right over God? For don't you know that every soul is the Soul of God?

Look upon every man, woman, and every one as God. You cannot help anyone, you can only serve: serve the children of the Lord, serve the Lord Himself, if you have the privilege. If the Lord grants that you can help any one of His children, blessed you are; do not think too much of yourselves. Blessed you are that that privilege was given to you when others had it not. Do it only as a worship. I should see God in the poor, and it is for my salvation that I go and worship them. The poor and the miserable are for our salvation, so that we may serve the Lord, coming in the shape of the diseased, coming in the shape of the lunatic, the leper, and the sinner! Bold are my words; and let me repeat that it is the greatest privilege in our life that we are allowed to serve the Lord in all these shapes. Give up the idea that by ruling over others you can do any good to them. But you can do just as much as you can in the case of the plant; you can supply the growing seed with the materials for the making up of its body, bringing to it the earth, the water, the air, that it wants. It will take all that it wants by its own nature. It will assimilate and grow by its own nature.

Bring all light into the world. Light, bring light! Let light come unto every one; the task will not be finished till every one has reached the Lord. Bring light to the poor and bring more light to the rich, for they require it more than the poor. Bring light to the ignorant, and more light to the educated, for the vanities of the education of our time are tremendous! Thus bring light to all and leave the rest unto the Lord, for in the words of the same Lord "To work you have the right and not to the fruits thereof." "Let not your work produce results for you, and at the same time may you never be without work."

May He who taught such grand ideas to our forefathers ages ago help us to get strength to carry into practice His commands!


We should look upon man in the most charitable light. It is not so easy to be good. What are you but mere machines until you are free? Should you be proud because you are good? Certainly not. You are good because you cannot help it. Another is bad because he cannot help it. If you were in his position, who knows what you would have been?
My salutation goes to the feet of the good, the saintly, and to the feet of the wicked and the devilish! They are all my teachers, all are my spiritual fathers, all are my Saviours. I may curse one and yet benefit by his failings; I may bless another and benefit by his good deeds. This is as true as that I stand here. I have to sneer at the woman walking in the street, because society wants it! She, my Saviour, she, whose street-walking is the cause of the chastity of other women! Think of that. Think, men and women, of this question in your mind. It is a truth — a bare, bold truth! As I see more of the world, see more of men and women, this conviction grows stronger. Whom shall I blame? Whom shall I praise? Both sides of the shield must be seen.

As I have said to the Indian people again and again, if there is the darkness of centuries in a room and we go into the room and begin to cry, "Oh, it is dark, it is dark!", will the darkness go? Bring in the light and the darkness will vanish at once. This is the secret of reforming men. Suggest to them higher things; believe in man first. Why start with the belief that man is degraded and degenerated? I have never failed in my faith in man in any case, even taking him at his worst. Wherever I had faith in man, though at first the prospect was not always bright, yet it triumphed in the long run. Have faith in man, whether he appears to you to be a very learned one or a most ignorant one. Have faith in man, whether he appears to be an angel or the very devil himself. Have faith in man first, and then having faith in him, believe that if there are defects in him, if he makes mistakes, if he embraces the crudest and the vilest doctrines, believe that it is not from his real nature that they come, but from the want of higher ideals. If a man goes towards what is false, it is because he cannot get what is true. Therefore the only method of correcting what is false is by supplying him with what is true. Do this, and let him compare. You give him the truth, and there your work is done. Let him compare it in his own mind with what he has already in him; and, mark my words, if you have really given him the truth, the false must vanish, light must dispel darkness, and truth will bring the good out. This is the way if you want to reform the country spiritually; this is the way, and not fighting, not even telling people that what they are doing is bad. Put the good before them, see how eagerly they take it, see how the divine that never dies, that is always living in the human, comes up awakened and stretches out its hand for all that is good, and all that is glorious.
 
THE FUTURE OF INDIA
Why is it that organizations are so powerful? Do not say organization is material. Why is it, to take a case in point, that forty millions of Englishmen rule three hundred millions of people here? What is the psychological explanation? These forty millions put their wills together and that means infinite power, and you three hundred millions have a will each separate from the other. Therefore to make a great future India, the whole secret lies in organization, accumulation of power, co-ordination of wills.
Already before my mind rises one of the marvellous verses of the Rig-Veda Samhitâ which says, "Be thou all of one mind, be thou all of one thought, for in the days of yore, the gods being of one mind were enabled to receive oblations." That the gods can be worshipped by men is because they are of one mind. Being of one mind is the secret of society. And the more you go on fighting and quarrelling about all trivialities such as "Dravidian" and "Aryan", and the question of Brahmins and non-Brahmins and all that, the further you are off from that accumulation of energy and power which is going to make the future India. For mark you, the future India depends entirely upon that. That is the secret — accumulation of will-power, co-ordination, bringing them all, as it here, into one focus. Each Chinaman thinks in his own way, and a handful of Japanese all think in the same way, and you know the result. That is how it goes throughout the history of the world. You find in every case, compact little nations always governing and ruling huge unwieldy nations, and this is natural, because it is easier for the little compact nations to bring their ideas into the same focus, and thus they become developed. And the bigger the nation, the more unwieldy it is. Born, as it were, a disorganised mob, they cannot combine. All these dissensions must stop.
 
This national ship, my countrymen, my friends, my children — this national ship has been ferrying millions and millions of souls across the waters of life. For scores of shining centuries it has been plying across this water, and through its agency, millions of souls have been taken to the other shore, to blessedness. But today, perhaps through your own fault, this boat has become a little damaged, has sprung a leak; and would you therefore curse it? Is it fit that you stand up and pronounce malediction upon it, one that has done more work than any other thing in the world? If there are holes in this national ship, this society of ours, we are its children. Let us go and stop the holes. Let us gladly do it with our hearts' blood; and if we cannot, then let us die. We will make a plug of our brains and put them into the ship, but condemn it never. Say not one harsh word against this society. I love it for its past greatness. I love you all because you are the children of gods, and because you are the children of the glorious forefathers. How then can I curse you! Never. All blessings be upon you! I have come to you, my children, to tell you all my plans. If you hear them I am ready to work with you. But if you will not listen to them, and even kick me out of India, I will come back and tell you that we are all sinking! I am come now to sit in your midst, and if we are to sink, let us all sink together, but never let curses rise to our lips.


MAYA AND ILLUSION
The man who has enough to eat and drink is an optimist, and he avoids all mention of misery, for it frightens him. Tell not to him of the sorrows and the sufferings of the world; go to him and tell that it is all good. "Yes, I am safe," says he. "Look at me! I have a nice house to live in. I do not fear cold and hunger; therefore do not bring these horrible pictures before me." But, on the other hand, there are others dying of cold and hunger. If you go and teach them that it is all good, they will not hear you. How can they wish others to be happy when they are miserable? Thus we are oscillating between optimism and pessimism.

OLD TESTAMENT The Book of Ecclesiastes

The Vanity of Life
2 Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.
3 What profit hath a man of all his labor which he taketh under the sun?
4 One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever.
5 The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose.
6 The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again according to his circuits.
7 All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full: unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again.
8 All things are full of labor; man cannot utter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.
9 The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.
10 Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us.
11 There is no remembrance of former things; neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come after.

1 Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them;
2 while the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the stars, be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain:
6 or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern.
7 Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.
8 Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher; all is vanity.
 
TIME

Everything Has Its Time

1. To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven:
2. a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck what is planted;
3. a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4. a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5. a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6. a time to gain, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
7. a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8. a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before him.
Then the dust will return to the earth as it was, and the spirit will return to God who gave it.
-Ecclesiastes 12:7

Auguries of Innocence by William Blake

Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.
A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock clipped and armed for fight
Does the rising sun affright.
Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell a human soul.
The wild deer wandering here and there
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misused breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh.
The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so:
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know
Through the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands,
Or if protected from on high
Does that whole nation sell and buy.
He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mocked in age and death.
We are led to believe a lie
When we see not through the eye
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.
God appears, and God is light
To those poor souls who dwell in night,
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.

CHRISTMAS BY JOHN CLARE

Christmas is come and every hearth
Makes room to give him welcome now
E'en want will dry its tears in mirth
And crown him wi' a holly bough
Tho tramping 'neath a winters sky
O'er snow track paths and rhymey stiles
The huswife sets her spining bye
And bids him welcome wi' her smiles
Each house is swept the day before
And windows stuck wi' evergreens
The snow is beesom'd from the door
And comfort crowns the cottage scenes
Gilt holly wi' its thorny pricks
And yew and box wi' berrys small
These deck the unus'd candlesticks
And pictures hanging by the wall
Thou day of happy sound and mirth
That long wi childish memory stays
How blest around the cottage hearth
I met thee in my boyish days
Harping wi raptures dreaming joys
On presents that thy coming found
The welcome sight of little toys
The christmass gifts of comers round

'The wooden horse wi' arching head
Drawn upon wheels around the room
The gilded coach of ginger bread
And many colored sugar plumb
Gilt coverd books for pictures sought
Or storys childhood loves to tell
Wi many a urgent promise bought
To get tomorrows lesson wel
l

Thursday, 10 November 2011

FAMOUS POEMS BY NISSIM EZEKIEL


HYMNS IN DARKNESS 
Don't curse the darkness
since you are told not to,
... but don't be in a hurry
to light a candle either.

The darkness has its secrets
which light does not know.

It's a kind of perfection,
while every light
distorts the truth.

Present at the creation
of the universe,
I would perhaps have proceeded
differently.
But if the destruction
is in our lifetime,
the mushroom cloud
is as good a way
as any I can think of,
and more aesthetic.

In the presence of death,
remember, do not console yourself;
there's only death here,
only life.

You are master
neither of death nor of life.

Belief will not save you,
nor unbelief.

All you have
is the sense of reality,
unfathomable
as it yields its secrets
slowly
one
by
one.
 

Night of the Scorpion 
I remember the night my mother
was stung by a scorpion. Ten hours
of steady rain had driven him
... to crawl beneath a sack of rice.

Parting with his poison - flash
of diabolic tail in the dark room -
he risked the rain again.

The peasants came like swarms of flies
and buzzed the name of God a hundred times
to paralyse the Evil One.

With candles and with lanterns
throwing giant scorpion shadows
on the mud-baked walls
they searched for him: he was not found.
They clicked their tongues.
With every movement that the scorpion made his poison moved in Mother's blood, they said.

May he sit still, they said
May the sins of your previous birth
be burned away tonight, they said.
May your suffering decrease
the misfortunes of your next birth, they said.
May the sum of all evil
balanced in this unreal world

against the sum of good
become diminished by your pain.
May the poison purify your flesh

of desire, and your spirit of ambition,
they said, and they sat around
on the floor with my mother in the centre,
the peace of understanding on each face.
More candles, more lanterns, more neighbours,
more insects, and the endless rain.
My mother twisted through and through,
groaning on a mat.
My father, sceptic, rationalist,
trying every curse and blessing,
powder, mixture, herb and hybrid.
He even poured a little paraffin
upon the bitten toe and put a match to it.
I watched the flame feeding on my mother.
I watched the holy man perform his rites to tame the poison with an incantation.
After twenty hours
it lost its sting.

My mother only said
Thank God the scorpion picked on me
And spared my children.

THE SECOND CANDLE
What's the second candle for, I asked
my wife that Friday night. Wait, she said,
... till they are lit and the prayer is over.
Then she turned to me with a cunning smile:
The first candle is for God's daily blessings,
just the usual things, you know,
Life itself, food and drink, love, children,
friends, relatives, books, flowers,
freedom from misfortunes,
all the plain prose of daily breath
which, for me, is poetry. She paused,
wanting me to repeat the question.
What's the second candle for? I didn't repeat it, patiently silent...
Then she added quickly before turning away,
The second candle is for a miracle I need
a special favour, a certain turn of events
what work alone will never bring,
a gift we do not quite deserve
but still may get by asking for it.
Call it grace, if you like, a windfall,
bonus, dearness allowance,
more than a promotion, some kind of new dimension, revelation.
Well, that's what the second candle's for.
Now do you understand.

She didn't wait for my answer. I looked at the two candles
shining there
and wonderful at the faith
that deals so simply with it's God.

TRANSPARENTLY

Light is the opposite
of heavy and of darkness.
I have always
consciously
loved the word
and all it stood for-
yet more than half my hours
are heavy and dark.
Compared to my mind
rocks are reasonable,
clouds are clear.
It makes me mad
but that is how it is.
How many times
have I felt free?
How many times
Spontaneous?
It's fantastic
what a slave
a man can be
who has nobody
to oppress him
except himself.
And don't tell me
there's any happiness
in being compulsive
or mindless.
The most painful
confrontation
makes me happier,
but I still rush off
in every direction at once
and fall for every bait.
It is a falling-
a most terrible thing.
And what one learns
is not all that important
because one has learnt it
already, over and over again.
Who wants experience
at the cost of achievement?
All I want now
is the recognition
of dilemma
and the quickest means
of resolving it
within my limits.


AFTER READING A PREDICTION

I am not superstitious.
The Zodiac predicts a new
creative phase of seven years
for Sagittarians.I remind myself
that to be the healer,
not the sick
or the indifferent one
was always my ambition;
and to rage against the barren
not only in friend or stranger
but perfectly familiar
in  my own signature.
This is the place
where I was born. I
know it
well. It is home,
which I recognise at last
as a kind of hell
to be made tolerable.
Let the fevers come,
the patterns break
and form again
for me and for the place.
I say to it and to myself:
not to be dead or dying
is a cause for celebration.
Watching spiders climb
the commonplace, ants
co-operate, lakes
reflect the hills of some
remembered holiday,
ships and swans engender
legends, morals, music,
I seek on firmer ground
to improvise my later fiction,
the fallen world
a faithful friend.
I also learn
to make light of the process,
to be the bird in balance
on the turbulent air
and yet as present here
as any solid human body,
heavy, slow and wishbone
breakable, straining to stay young.


HYMNS IN DARKNESS

He knows how to speak of humility,
without humility.
He has exchanged the wisdom of youthfulness
for the follies of maturity.
What is lost is certain, what is gained
of dubious value.
Self-esteem stunts his growth. He has not learnt
how to be nobody.
All his truths are outside him,
and mock his activity.
He has found too many secrets that will not work
too many keys that unlock no locks.
It's all of little use.
He's still a puny self
hoping to manipulate the universe and all
its manifest powers for his own advancement,
advantages.
Again and again, he loses the war of motives,
self-deceived.

Sunday, 30 October 2011

SWAMI VIVEKANANDA AND NEW INDIA

T.S. ELIOT
FOUR QUARTETS
THE DRY SALVAGES
I sometimes wonder if that is what Krishna meant—
Among other things—or one way of putting the same thing:
That the future is a faded song, a Royal Rose or a lavender spray
Of wistful regret for those who are not yet here to regret,
Pressed between yellow leaves of a book that has never been opened.
And the way up is the way down, the way forward is the way back.
You cannot face it steadily, but this thing is sure,
That time is no healer: the patient is no longer here.
When the train starts, and the passengers are settled
To fruit, periodicals and business letters
(And those who saw them off have left the platform)
Their faces relax from grief into relief,
To the sleepy rhythm of a hundred hours.
Fare forward, travellers! not escaping from the past
Into different lives, or into any future;
You are not the same people who left that station
Or who will arrive at any terminus,
While the narrowing rails slide together behind you;
And on the deck of the drumming liner
Watching the furrow that widens behind you,
You shall not think 'the past is finished'
Or 'the future is before us'.
At nightfall, in the rigging and the aerial,
Is a voice descanting (though not to the ear,
The murmuring shell of time, and not in any language)
'Fare forward, you who think that you are voyaging;
You are not those who saw the harbour
Receding, or those who will disembark.
Here between the hither and the farther shore
While time is withdrawn, consider the future
And the past with an equal mind.
At the moment which is not of action or inaction
You can receive this: "on whatever sphere of being
The mind of a man may be intent
At the time of death"—that is the one action
(And the time of death is every moment)
Which shall fructify in the lives of others:
And do not think of the fruit of action.
Fare forward.
O voyagers, O seamen,
You who came to port, and you whose bodies
Will suffer the trial and judgement of the sea,
OR WHATEVER EVENT, THIS IS YOUR REAL DESTINATION.'
SO KRISHNA, AS WHEN HE ADMONISHED ARJUNA
ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE.
NOT FARE WELL,
BUT FARE FORWARD, VOYAGERS.
 
Mundaka Upanishad

Take the Upanishad as the bow, the great weapon and place
upon it the arrow sharpened by meditation. Then, having drawn
it back with a mind directed to the thought of Brahman, strike
that mark, O my good friend—that which is the Imperishable

Om is the bow; the atman is the arrow; Brahman is said to be
the mark. It is to be struck by an undistracted mind. Then the
atman becomes one with Brahman, as the arrow with the target.

In Him are woven heaven, earth and the space between and the
mind with all the sense—organs. Know that non—dual Atman
alone and give up all other talk. He is the bridge to Immortality.

He moves about, becoming manifold, within the heart, where
the arteries meet, like the spokes fastened in the nave of a
chariot wheel. Meditate on Atman as Om. Hail to you! May
you cross beyond the sea of darkness!

He who knows all and understands all and to whom belongs all
the glory in the world—He, Atman, is placed in the space in the
effulgent abode of Brahman. He assumes the forms of the mind
and leads the body and the senses. He dwells in the body, inside
the heart. By the knowledge of That which shines as the blissful
and immortal Atman, the wise behold Him fully in all things.

The fetters of the heart are broken, all doubts are resolved and
all works cease to bear fruit, when He is beheld who is both
high and low.

There the stainless and indivisible Brahman shines in the
highest, golden sheath. It is pure; It is the Light of lights; It is
That which they know who know the Self.

The sun does not shine there, nor the moon and the stars, nor
these lightnings, not to speak of this fire. When He shines,
everything shines after Him; by His light everything is lighted.

That immortal Brahman alone is before, that Brahman is
behind, that Brahman is to the right and left. Brahman alone
pervades everything above and below; this universe is that
Supreme Brahman alone.
THE MOTHER'S HEART, THE HERO'S WILL,
THE SWEETNESS OF THE SOUTHERN BREEZE,
THE SACRED CHARM AND STRENGTH THAT DWELL
ON ARYAN ALTARS, FLAMING, FREE;
ALL THESE BE YOURS AND MANY MORE
NO ANCIENT SOUL COULD DREAM BEFORE-
BE THOU TO INDIA'S FUTURE SON
THE MISTRESS, SERVANT, FRIEND IN ONE.
-SWAMI VIVEKANANDA
LECTURES FROM COLOMBO TO ALMORA
SWAMI VIVEKANANDA
What we want is strength, so believe in yourselves. We have become weak, and that is why occultism and mysticism come to us — these creepy things; there may be great truths in them, but they have nearly destroyed us. Make your nerves strong. What we want is muscles of iron and nerves of steel. We have wept long enough. No more weeping, but stand on your feet and be men. It is a man-making religion that we want. It is man-making theories that we want. It is man-making education all round that we want. And here is the test of truth — anything that makes you weak physically, intellectually, and spiritually, reject as poison; there is no life in it, it cannot be true. Truth is strengthening. Truth is purity, truth is all-knowledge; truth must be strengthening, must be enlightening, must be invigorating. These mysticisms, in spite of some grains of truth in them, are generally weakening. Believe me, I have a lifelong experience of it, and the one conclusion that I draw is that it is weakening. I have travelled all over India, searched almost every cave here, and lived in the Himalayas. I know people who lived there all their lives. I love my nation, I cannot see you degraded, weakened any more than you are now. Therefore I am bound for your sake and for truth's sake to cry, "Hold!" and to raise my voice against this degradation of my race. Give up these weakening mysticisms and be strong.
I believe in patriotism, and I also have my own ideal of patriotism. Three things are necessary for great achievements. First, feel from the heart. What is in the intellect or reason? It goes a few steps and there it stops. But through the heart comes inspiration. Love opens the most impossible gates; love is the gate to all the secrets of the universe. Feel, therefore, my would-be reformers, my would-be patriots! Do you feel? Do you feel that millions and millions of the descendants of gods and of sages have become next-door neighbours to brutes? Do you feel that millions are starving today, and millions have been starving for ages? Do you feel that ignorance has come over the land as a dark cloud? Does it make you restless? Does it make you sleepless? Has it gone into your blood, coursing through your veins, becoming consonant with your heartbeats? Has it made you almost mad? Are you seized with that one idea of the misery of ruin, and have you forgotten all about your name, your fame, your wives, your children, your property, even your own bodies? Have you done that? That is the first step to become a patriot, the very first step.
Yet that is not all. Have you got the will to surmount mountain-high obstructions? If the whole world stands against you sword in hand, would you still dare to do what you think is right? If your wives and children are against you, if all your money goes, your name dies, your wealth vanishes, would you still stick to it? Would you still pursue it and go on steadily towards your own goal? As the great King Bhartrihari says, "Let the sages blame or let them praise; let the goddess of fortune come or let her go wherever she likes; let death come today, or let it come in hundreds of years; he indeed is the steady man who does not move one inch from the way of truth." Have you got that steadfastness? If you have these three things, each one of you will work miracles. You need not write in the newspapers, you need not go about lecturing; your very face will shine. If you live in a cave, your thoughts will permeate even through the rock walls, will go vibrating all over the world for hundreds of years, maybe, until they will fasten on to some brain and work out there. Such is the power of thought, of sincerity, and of purity of purpose.
let New India arise in your place. Let her arise — out of the peasants' cottage, grasping the plough; out of the huts of the fisherman, the cobbler, and the sweeper. Let her spring from the grocer's shop, from beside the oven of the fritter-seller. Let her emanate from the factory, from marts, and from markets. Let her emerge from groves and forests, from hills and mountains. These common people have suffered oppression for thousands of years —#8212; suffered it without murmur, and as a result have got wonderful fortitude. They have suffered eternal misery, which has given them unflinching vitality. Living on a handful of grain, they can convulse the world; give them only half a piece of bread, and the whole world will not be big enough to contain their energy; they are endowed with the inexhaustible vitality of a Raktabija. (A demon, in the Durgâ-Saptashati, every drop of whose blood falling on the ground produced another demon like him.) And, besides, they have got the wonderful strength that comes of a pure and moral life, which is not to be found anywhere else in the world. Such peacefulness, such contentment, such love, such power of silent and incessant work, and such manifestation of lion's strength in times of action — where else will you find these! Skeletons of the Past, there, before you, are your successors, the India that is to be. Throw those treasure-chests of yours and those jewelled rings among them,
-SWAMI VIVEKANANDA
 
 

Saturday, 29 October 2011

SISTER NIVEDITA: DAUGHTER OF INDIA

ROBERT BROWNING
Then, (sickening even while I spoke)
^ Let me alone ! No answer, pray,
^ To this ! I know what Thou wilt say !
' All still is earth's,— to Know, as much
' As Feel its truths, which if we touch
^ With sense or apprehend in soul.
' What matter ? I have reached the goal —
' " Whereto does Knowledge serve V^ will bum
' My eyes, too sure, at every turn !
^ I cannot look back now, nor stake
' Bliss on the race, for running's sake.
^ The goal's a ruin like the rest !' —
— " And so much worse thy latter quest,
(Added the Voice) ^Hhat even on earth
" Whenever, in man's soul, had birth
" Those intuitions, grasps of guess.
That pull the more into the less.
Making the finite comprehend
Infinity, the bard would spend
Such praise alone, upon his craft.
As, when wind-lyres obey the waft.
Goes to the craftsman who arranged
The seven strings, changed them and rechanged-
Knowing it was the South that harped.
" He felt his song, in singing, warped,

" Distinguished his and God's part : whence

" A world of spirit as of sense

" Was plain to him, yet not too plain,

" Which he could traverse, not remain
A guest in : — else were permanent
Heaven upon earth, its gleams were meant
To sting with hunger for the hght,—
Made visible in Verse, despite
The veiling weakness, — ^truth by means
Of fable, showing while it screens, —
Since highest truth, man e'er supplied,

" Was ever fable on outside-

'' Such gleams made bright the earth an age ;

'^ Now, the whole sun 's his heritage I

'' Take up thy world, it is allowed,

" Thou who hast entered in the cloud
LIFE SKETCH
Born 28 October 1867
County Tyrone, Ireland
Died 13 October 1911
Darjeeling, West Bengal, India
The name Nivedita means 'the dedicated one.' Who was she? you may ask. What was the 'all' she gave to India, and why?

Sister Nivedita born as Margaret Elizabeth Noble, was a Scots-Irish social worker, author, teacher and disciple of Swami Vivekananda. She met Vivekananda in 1895 in London and travelled to Calcutta, India (present-day Kolkata) in 1898. Swami Vivekananda gave her the name Nivedita (meaning "Dedicated to God") when he initiated her into the vow of Brahmacharya on March 25, 1898. She had close associations with the newly established Ramakrishna Mission.

It is true that we are the children of Mother India. But do we love her enough to give her anything in return for all that she gives to us? Do we love all her children as our own? The great poet Rabindranath Tagore, answers for us: "whoever has seen what reality there was in her (Nivedita's) love of the people, has surely understood that we-while giving perhaps our time, our money, even our life-have not been able to give them our heart." Sister Nivedita had no money to give-for she was poor herself. But she gave her life.

This great offering, giving her life for Mother India, is like a song of love. Love is blind for it sees not the faults of the beloved, and Nivedita never found fault with India. Indeed, she was hard on those who even talked of her slightingly.

This seems wonderful enough, does it not? But it will seem all the more wonderful to you when you hear that Nivedita was not an Indian; she was not even born in India.

She believed that India could not be great and powerful unless there was unity. She was never tired of speaking about this. 'It is true,' she said, 'that in India we have many races, many religions and many kinds of social conditions, but that does not mean that all cannot be united into one.'

Once she most prayerfully made a suggestion for achieving this sense of unity amongst us. She said: 'If the whole of India could agree to give, say, ten minutes every evening, at the oncoming of darkness to thinking a single thought, "We are one, we are one, nothing can prevail against us to make us think we are divided. We are one, and all antagonisms amongst us are illusion"-the power that would be generated can hardly be measured.'

Thus she continued to work for the good of India, as she had always wished to do.
 SPEECHES   
 
But the secret of this is a different matter. The gods, it is said, were looking for a divine weapon, that is to say, for the divine weapon, par excellence-and they were told that only if they could find a man willing to give his own bones for the substance of it, could the Invincible Sword be forged. Whereupon they trooped up to the rishi Dadhichi and asked for his bones for the purpose. The request sounded like mockery. A man would give all but his own life-breath, assuredly, for a great end, but who, even to furnish forth a weapon for Indra, would hand over his body itself? To the rishi Dadhichi, however, this was no insuperable height of sacrifice. Smilingly he listened, smilingly he answered, and in that very moment laid himself down to die-yielding at a word the very utmost demanded of humanity.
Here, then, we have the significance of the Vajra. The Selfless Man is the Thunderbolt. Let us strive only for selflessness, and we become the weapon in the hands of the Gods. Not for us to ask how. Not for us to plan methods. For us, it is only to lay ourselves down at the altar-foot. The gods do the rest. The divine carries us. It is not the thunderbolt that is invincible, but the hand that hurls it. Mother! Mother! take away from us this self! Let not fame or gain or pleasure have dominion over us! Be Thou the sunlight, we the dew dissolving in its heat.
 
Miss Margaret Elizabeth Noble, later known as Sister Nivedita
Sister Nivedita broke down and wept all night in her room in Bodh Gaya saying, "We have failed. The country has not been roused from its slumber; it has not come back to life. We have been able to do almost nothing. The true spirit of India,-what once made India the glory of the world and the heart of Asia, has not been revived. When will the nation be conscious of its glorious heritage, and the distinct place it once occupied in the growth of human thought and human civilization? When will that life, that spirit, return?"

The English had taught the Indian to believe that it was only after the introduction of cheap postage, the extended railway travel and the common use of the English language that India had been united. Nivedita stoutly refused to believe this and said:
If India had no unity herself, no unity could be given to her. The unity which undoubtedly belonged to India was self-born and had its own destiny, its own functions and its own vast powers; but it was the gift of no one.
She ended with a high note of hope and inspiration:
Yet again shall come the great re-establishment of Dharma when the whole of this nation shall be united together not in a common weakness, not in a common misfortune or grievance but in a great, overflowing, complex, actual, ever-strong, ever-living consciousness of the common nationality, the common heritage, the common struggle, the common life, aye! the common destiny and the common hope. And so let me in all reverence and in all grateful memory and love repeat to you again these words that were spoken here in our midst a few years ago by a voice so dear, so well remembered by you all-those words that were the text of his message to his land for ever more-"Arise, awake, struggle on and rest not till the goal is reached."
I believe that India is one, indissoluble, indivisible.
National unity is built on the common home, the common interest and the common love.
I believe that the strength which spoke in the Vedas and Upanishads, in the making of religions and empires, in the learning of scholars, and the meditation of the saints, is born once more amongst us, and its name today is Nationality.
I believe that the present of India is deep-rooted in her past, and that before her shines a glorious future.
O Nationality, come thou to me as joy or sorrow, as honour or as shame! Make me thine own!
 
If we travel today to the hills of Darjeeling, just below the railway station we shall see the Hindu cremation ground. There stands a memorial built of brick. In the stillness and the quite of that place Mother Nature seems to enfold the memorial with her sweet air and sunlight, and with her singing birds and dancing flowers she seems to tell everyone that it is there.
If you are attracted to it and wonder whose memorial it is, you will see a marble tablet on it with these words:
HERE
REPOSE THE ASHES
OF
SISTER NIVEDITA
OF THE RAMAKRISHNA-VIVEKANANDA
WHO GAVE HER ALL TO INDIA
 
Bring me my bow of burning gold
Bring me my arrows of desire
Bring me my spear, Oh clouds, unfold
Bring me my chariot of fire!
-William Blake

It begins to be thought that there is a religious idea that may be called Indian, but it is of no single sect; that there is a social idea, which is the property of no caste or group; that there is a historic evolution, in which all are united; that it is the thing within all these which alone is to be called 'India'.
-Sister Nivedita