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Biography
Early Days
Sri Sacchidananda Sivabhinava Narasimha Bharati Swamigal was the unfamiliar name of that most familiar, magnificent and divine Personality that gracefully adorned the throne of the famous Sringeri Mutt on the banks of the pure Tunga. He was well known among his disciples as the simple "Sringeri Jagadguru". Born of highly learned and pious parents he inherited at his very birth all the learning and piety and the religious fervor of his father, Kunigal Rama Sastrigal, the famous Vidvan at the court of the Maharaja Krishna Raja Wodayar III of Mysore and the favored disciple of the renowned Tryambaka Sastrigal of the Court of the Peshwas of Poona. True Jagadguru
His sympathies were thoroughly cosmopolitan. He never confined himself to any particular sect or caste. He was all-tolerant. He belonged to all, irrespective of caste or creed. Was he not the Jagadguru, the guru of the whole world? True to his appellation, he embraced within the sweep of his love, people of all nationalities and of all climes. Brahmins and non-brahmins, Hindus and Mahomedans, Parsis and Christians, Europeans and Australians all these claimed - nay even received equal treatment at the hands of his Holiness. All of them vied with each other in doing homage to him. He knew of no narrow-minded sectarianism in his love. He saw the same Atma i.e., himself in all beings, whatever be their nationality. Once, at Chennapatna in Mysore Province, when he sat in the midst of a large concourse of Mahomedans who were eager to do him all kinds of service and freely conversed with them to their great enjoyment, he did not know the passing of the time and when at last he was reminded of it and the audience dispersed, he expressed to one who asked him about it that he did not at all feel that he was sitting so close to the Mahomedans conversing with them but that all along he enjoyed supreme bliss arising from communion with his own Atma. Such was the great Mahatma who always forgot his surroundings and considered every one as his own Self. That was the secret of his immense popularity. Letters came from different parts of the world, from England, from Holland, from Germany, from Australia, from utter strangers, begging for some token, some watch or locket, touched by his Holiness which they may preserve for ever as a talisman to protect them from all evils. Such was the belief in his sanctity even among the modern scientifically advanced nations. Simple Saint
He was grand in his simplicity. He was actually rolling in wealth. People would give anything and everything to get his blessings. All comforts that love or money could secure were at his beck and call. Still he was perfectly indifferent to them. He never cared for them. Not only did he not care for them, but he actually did not know the value of them, as we understand it. He did not know the difference between one Rupee and one lakh of Rupees. He considered both as valuable as the mud he was treading on. He would very often lie down on the bare ground and as often wander in lonely forests and derive therefrom immense pleasure. He would scorn all riches. He would scorn all paraphernalia. But he was tied down by the command of his Guru to a Mutt which, ever since his assuming the reins, has immense riches and large paraphernalia. He felt himself bound thereby. He yearned to be free. He would use golden vessels for the Mutt Puja but for his own use he would have simple wooden vessels. He could not understand why people led evil ways. He would shudder to hear of the worlds wickedness. He would talk words of wisdom as freely to the prince as to the peasant. He was never reserved. He would listen patiently and advice freely without fear or favour. He was the most easily accessible of all. Thousands of people visited him daily and prayed for the relief of their wants. He had a kind word to say to each after attentively listening to his or her tale of woe and then give them some prasada which would cure their malady either physical or mental. He would actually shed tears when he found people suffering and would pray to God to relieve their suffering. Such was his simplicity that every disciple of his felt that he possessed a tower of strength in his Guru who could be approached at all times on even the slightest pretext of distress. Powerhouse of Learning
He was mighty in his learning. He was voracious in his reading. A sharp intellect, a retentive memory and a keen zest went to mark him as the most distinguished scholar of his day. His leisure moments, he would never spend in vain. He would always either read something or repeat something. His learning was not only deep but also many sided. He could break a lance with any adversary in any of the sastras. There was no branch of knowledge which he did not know and that sastraically. He was Mantra Sastra personified. Mantras were at his fingers ends. He knew Nadi Sastra , a sastra quite unknown now-a-days perfectly well. He was equally learned in Vaidya Sastra. He knew very well the medicinal value of all kinds of herbs. In Tarka and Vedanta nobody could even understand the arguments put forth by him without much labour and thought. With all his learning he was perfectly simple in his expositions. The highest truths he would expound to the tyro in language easily understandable by him. The most knotty points he would unravel in a marvelously easy way to the intense admiration of his audience. The Sastras were his playground. He would revel in them as often and as much as he could. Besides the Sastras he was an adept in kavyas and dramas also. It may be fairly said without fear of contradiction that he had gone through every branch of Sanskrit Literature and retained most of it in his memory. It was a very favorite pastime with him to repeat what are known as Antadi Slokas. More than half-a-dozen pandits may range together against him and still he would be a match to them all. He would repeat from memory slokas by thousands and all his opponents may exhaust all their stores but he would be inexhaustible. Ramayana was his favourite poem. He would oftentimes read it and while reading it merge himself in its scenes and laugh or weep as occasion demanded. It was an exceedingly rare privilege and pleasure to hear him read those excellent scenes so excellently portrayed in the Ramayana. Most of the book he knew by heart and when he read them the hearer would feel as though transported to the actual scenes and would be carried away by emotions suited to the occasion. He was a very good poet as will be clear from these pages (of the Bhakti Sudha Tarangini). But all his powers of composition were directed towards praising the gods and invoking their blessings on mankind. When he entered a shrine he would involuntarily begin to repeat slokas. He cared not for ornate flourishes in his poems. They were the outpourings of an exuberant soul. Genuine flow of Bhakti could be traced in each of his poems. He wrote not for name or fame. He would muse on the deity and would quite unexpectedly fall into the poetic vein and repeat slokas after slokas the force and pathos of which pierced through the hardest heart and brought tears even to eyes that never before wept under the influence of religion. Similarly while teaching his disciples any sastraic work he would all on a sudden begin to lecture lucidly and eloquently on the most abstruse points and on several of these occasions no notes were taken and thus full many a gem of purest ray serene has been lost to the world. Genuine Bhakta
He was intensely earnest in his Bhakti. He never considered himself as other than human. He would pray to God ardently that his human shortcomings might be rectified. His method of performing Puja was a sight to see. None could hurry him in his puja. He may have some one hundred idols before him. Each idol must be separately worshipped. Each must have its allotted sandal, akshata, kumkuma and flower. Each must be praised. Each must be meditated upon. Of course Sri Chandramoulisvara and Sri Sarada occupied the foremost place in his mind. They stood apart and he was never satisfied with doing puja to them, but inwardly they never left his mind. He used to converse with them freely and even quarrel with them at times as though they were his playmates. He would never think of them as images but would feel their living presence. He would not give them any naivedya (offering) either too hot or too cold. He would try his best to make them eat whatever he offered them. He would repeat stotras with all the enthusiasm of a devotee and at times dance for joy. Compassionate Seer
His kindness knew no bounds. To one and all that approached him he was uniformly kind. Harshness was a thing unknown to him. Hatred was a word not to be found in his vocabulary. He was always kind. Even to his servants he was nothing but kind. Real anger was really foreign to him. Even feigned anger was but the passing mood of a moment. Kind words, kind deeds and kind thoughts he spread all around. Always with a smiling countenance full of benevolent intentions he would warmly welcome everyone that approached him, tenderly enquire after their welfare as though he were a member of their family and by words and deeds relieve their distress whatever that may be. He would never forget faces, but remember people once seen even after the expiry of thirty years. He would never rest content with having done a kindness to his bhakta. He would always be eager to do him more. He would shower blessings on him one after another in quick succession. He was ever ready not only to alleviate the physical and mental distress of his innumerable disciples but was equally prompt in teaching them the required mantras, in initiating them into the path of knowledge and dhyana and in showing them the means to liberation. He knew instinctively what a person wanted and would teach him just the thing required. In short every one who approached him returned not only perfectly satisfied but also overwhelmed with his kindness. Incomparable Yogi
He was a great Yogi and a Siddha of a very high order. Nothing was impossible to him. The great Rajayogin Sri Sadasivendra Sarasvati was his ideal. But he more than realised his ideal. The only difference was, the one roamed freely wherever he willed whereas the other was bound down to a mighty Seat by the command of his Guru and accordingly had to restrain himself within his limitations. But numerous were the occasions when his yogic powers were much in evidence. In the midst of a very large concourse of people, amidst the din and noise of a huge crowd, when different kinds of musical instruments were at their loudest, when brahmins loudly chanted the Upanishads, when the temple bells pealed with loud ringing noise, in the midst of so much hubbub and confusion he would restrain his breath, and go into a trance. Suddenly his form would become motionless, his eyes would be more than half closed and he would go into transcendent Samadhi for even hours together. None could rouse him up from that trance. Who could fathom the depth of that insensibility? Everything would have to wait until he returned of his own accord to the world. Once while crossing the Tunga, his foot slipped from the sandal and he had a nasty cut right across his sole. The servant who accompanied him supporting his palm was likewise cut in his foot and when both reached the shore the servant could not walk even a single step and his Holiness observing this enquired of him the cause of it. But the servant noting the free flow of blood from the sole of his Holiness was much shocked and pointed it out to him. But he simply passed his hand over the sole and said that nothing was the matter with him and lo! The servant was surprised to find the sole quite hale without any sign of any cut. Then the servant was given some prasada and was advised to stay at home till his foot healed. True Sannyasi
Above all he was a true Sannyasin. Never for a moment did he swerve even one-thousandth of an inch from the rigorous path ordained for that most noble and most difficult of all asramas, the Sannyasa Asrama. None had mastered its rules so well and none followed them so closely as he. In spite of his manifold duties as the head of the most influential Mutt, in spite of his innumerable disciples who did not allow him even a single moments leisure and in spite of the various calls on his attention he was most faithful to the duties of his asrama. His was true renunciation. In the midst of strife he knew the abiding Peace. He was right in the midst of the world but still quite beyond it. He was thoroughly unattached to anything worldly, though he appeared extremely attached to every one of his disciples. He was thoroughly selfless though he was always meditating on the Self. He was a triumphant example, a living realisation of the complete conquest of all dvandvas or pairs of opposites. He did not care a straw for all the gold or all the fame that is in this Universe. He held the world but as a world, as a stage where every one had to play a part. He had thoroughly controlled his flesh. He was full of soul, full of the reality of religion, full of joy and full of blessed purity. In short, he was undoubtedly a very great Mahatma but without any mysteries or occultisms. Divinity Beyond Mind and Speech
Was he not God incarnate - a living and walking God on earth? Was he not then, in the language of the Sruti, beyond the reach of words? Then who at all can attempt a sketch of him? He was Infinity and infinite were his qualities. How can anyone adequately describe in words this vast storehouse of knowledge, this boundless ocean of bhakti, this original fountainhead of mercy, this undefiled source of purity, this personal embodiment of all virtues and this perfect type of rigorous renunciation. Even the mind refuses to fathom the depth of the all-round greatness of this mighty personage. What need be said about the poverty of words? He was unique with none to approach him even as second. His spotless holiness, his deep piety, his unspeakable blessedness, his endless wisdom, his childlike peacefulness and his universal affection beggar all description. His was a life of resolute good, unalterable will and quenchless desire of Universal happiness. Some facets
An Ace Worker Shedding the mortal coil
Having accomplished deeds of no small magnitude, the Jagadguru resolved to nominate the devout celibate Sri Narasimha Sastry as successor-designate for the exalted peetham. Accordingly He arranged for the brahmachari to be brought to Sringeri from Bangalore. But even as this bidding of His was being fulfilled, the Jagadguru, while seated in meditation after His morning bath, appeared to have fallen into a trance. Though He declared this as a dip in the ocean of Atmic bliss, He had no relish for food the whole day and lay fasting. Next morning having had His bath as usual, He was seated in meditation till nine. Then came a violent fit of coughing; the Swamigal was still seated coughing, with His head bent down and at 11.30 AM His Soul merged into the Supreme Light, leaving behind the bright smile alone which, as ever before, was irradiating His face. It was Chaitra Shukla dwiteeya in the year Paritapi (March 1912). |
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