Ocean in a Tea-cup

Ocean in a Tea Cup - Ray Houserman --- contd from first edition -----

Chapter 36  pp 248-256

By 1965, Thakur could have looked back on his achievements in Deoghar with considerable satisfaction. Beginning in 1946 at the age of fifty-eight, he had in less than two decades taken a penniless group of several thousand refugees, whose only asset was their faith in him, and combined this with his only asset: his untottering conviction that ordinary men, women and children were his wealth. The combination was extraordinarily effective. A new community grew up in Deoghar, bigger than the original one in Pabna. It boasted its schools, college, press, workshop, dairy, medical manufactory and thousands of men, women and children whose faith in Thakur having inspired them with the urge to try to live and love as he did, had created an inspiring shelter which was often described by various political leaders and educationists as on of the most remarkable examples of self-help in modern India. Besides these community activities, he had inspired his followers to help build science in Deoghar and contribute mone for the construction of a center for pilgrims to the Baidyanath Temple.

During these years, the deterioration in Thakur’s health, the slow but inexorable depletion of his physical resources become more and more apparent. What was not obvious was how little these growing physical disabilities effected the bewildering variety of activity he inspired and guided during these last years of his life.

Beginnings to 1956 and repeated often over years to both the famous and the unknown was his innocent suggestion “…. Try to bring the Ganges River to Deoghar ….” The nearest point was sixty miles away and 600 feet lower than Deoghar. At first glance shat seemed to be the idea of a man turned, after more careful research, into a project with an unexpected number of possible benefits : It could open up for agriculture and economic development this huge backward area. It would capture both the sentiments and imagination of the millions of Hindus, many of whom walk 60 miles with Ganges water with which they worship Lord Shiva in the temple. It would bring the site of Sandilya University to the bank of the river and would permit Thakur to live his last days as he had lived his early ones --- on the bank of this ancient river that meant so much to India. Because it proposed using the bed of the Darwa River to connect North and South across the plateau to the Ajoy River, it was called the Ganga-Darwa Project. It was not too long before a group of devotees lead by R. C. Sinha, professor of Geology of Patna University, were actively attempting to secure public and Government cooperation. There was another group of Thakur’s disciples just as committed to seeking funds and hands for the gigantic educational synthesis which Thakur called the Sandilya University Project. A third group led by Thakur’s youngest son, a medical college whose syllabus would attempt to synthesize all known system of medicine with a few original ideas of Thakur and a five hundred be hospital organized as a home with facilities for a relative to remain with each patient.

Flood control, education reform, medical innovation and added to it all was another project – perhaps the most intriguing, if only because of its complete irrationality. The objective of this program was to secure 100 cars – and this when there already were more cars than the overworked staff could handle.

The appeal to help these varied projects at the same times in different meeting all over India, gave an interesting glimpse in the breadth and depth of Thakur’s unique synthesis. The university appeal for a new lead in the training of men’s minds would be followed by an equally eloquent appeal for the hospital and the elemental need of caring for men’s bodies, and this followed by ardent appeals for cooperation in Ganga-Darwa Prject as basic to the others.

Finally, would come the appeal for money for Thakur’s unneeded cars. Apart from earning for Thakur the epithet – perhaps unique amongst the many yogis and Gurus – of the Automobile Avatar, it was interesting to see that the very irrationality of this cause often over-whelmed the others. This last speaker would inevitably conclude with the fact that there already were more cars in the ashram than could be handled, so there really was no reason for this appeal … no reason, except… Thakur wanted them. You needn’t love Thakur to help the University, for your children would be helped. You didn’t even need to know Thakur to help with the hospital or flood control --- their benefits were obvious. But cars ! For these cars, the only way anyone could possibly contribute for them would be loved Thakur the way loved his wife or son or mother to whom you give without asking the reason why. In a word, this appeal was for those who wanted to exercise the muscles of their hearts; nurture their spirit.

One of the high moments was the presentation of 1937 Rolls Royce, body by Hooper, to Thakur by an old cisciple, B. K. Kapoor. Arriving in Deoghar early in afternoon in the spring of 1968, Thakur was seated in the back seat with Bor’da, Kajal and Kapur seated on the floor at his feet. Bankim-da beside me in the front, I chauffered the huge, ornate masterpiece of machinery aound Deoghar to Jasidiih. It was a high moment for Kapur and even today sitting majestically in the car museum in the ashram, this empress among automobiles still evokes momories of that day.

Each group developed a loyalty to his own particular cause, and Thakur, despite constant illness and exhaustion seemed to effortlessly nurture all of them at once. This beside the energy spent taking care of the daily personal appeals fro advice, money, medicine or solace.

Despite this apparent demonstration of indestructibility, Thakur quietly, imperceptibly prepared for his departure. More and more often he referred personal, administrative and financial problems to Bor’da. Step by step he moved this son who had served so selflessly so long into the forefront – the preacher organization, the philanthropic activities, the arrangements for food, new homes – gently, steadily he pushed Bor’da into prominence. Each succeeding birthday of Bor’da brought forth exuberant praise, always with a touch of caution that Bor’da demonstrate the same compassion and understanding that Thakur had.This was culminated one afternoon in the late spring of 1968. When Bor’da came to his father, Thkur said to him, “You sit here on my bed and I’ll go in the back room.” “No, No, Father ! this is your bed and you stay here!” Borda’s protest was immediate. “No, you sit here,” Thakur insisted, “Tui to ami. (You are I.) I’ll go in the back room, I cannot manage physically any longer.”

Was it wise and perceptive fain, or a humble yet subtle pride that compelled Bor’da to reject Thakur’s proposal ? To this day that bed holds a sad picture of Thakur and the rightness or wrongness of Borda’s refusal to sit there still argued back and forth.

Thakur’s arrangements for his absence were not however, limited to Bor’da. During this same period, he was quietly advising some people to remain with Kazal and appealing to different workers: “After I’ve gone, you help Kazala.. “ Between the frequent trips to Patna to complete his research for his Ph.D. in Plastic Surgery, Kazal would perform major operations in the small hospital built by Bor’da in consultation with Kazal. During these operations Thakur would send a stream of attendants to inquire about the progress and the successor failure of the surgery. The hospital quickly established a reputation of Thakur’s expansive spirit.

“How much is the charge ?” The monk from the Ramakrishna Mission High School inquired after Kazal had X-rayed, set and plastered the arm of one of the students, broken in a football game.

“What charge ?” Kazal queired. “Thakur always says that if things were in proper order, Satsangis could go to the Ramakrishna Mission and feel we were still in Satsang and you could come to Satsang and feel you are still in the Ramkrishna mission. So, how can I charge money from member of my own family ?

In 1966, Kazal was married to girl that Thakur had himself chosen from many possibilities and to wom a daughter was born a year later. Kazal’s constant trips between Patna and Deoghar, performing operations in both places often gave others the opportunity observe beneath the apparent simple, unpretentious exterior, was a steel-like tenacity and courage. When a poverty-stricken slum dweller couldn’t efford an operation in the hospital, he would gather a make-shift staff, wash down the shack with disinfectant and proceed to perform hernia, appendix and even a gall bladder operation in the bustees in Patna. Whether it was skill, lick or faith that Thakur would save the patient, Kazal established a reputation among the hospital staff and his poverty-stricken clientele of courage, compassion and success.

On March 16th, 1967, I became aware first-hand of another of Thakur’s innocent yet ultimately so meaningful indications of his plans for the future. I had gone to Thakur’s room to bid farewell along with Kazal and Chotto Ma before leaving for Patna. Sudhir choudhury, Janardan Mookherjee, Profulla Bannerjee and several others were present. It was around 3:30 and conversation was going on desultorily. Suddenly, Thakur irrelevantly remarked looking at Kazal, “The astrologers say I’ll come back as your son.”

“Father, please don’t say that,” Kazal’s hands were folded in appeal “You always remain my father.”

A few months later and a few days before Kazal would receive his Ph.D., he along with an old friend were sitting on the varandah of rented house in Rajendranagar, a well-to-do suburb of Patna, where many professional people lived. “Kazal,” the friend observed, “did you ever stop to think that with all your experience and degrees, you could start a private practice here in Patna and easily earn 100.000 rupees a year and quickly have a nice car, house and if your made only a couple of free operations a week, you would be overwhelmed with praise: “A worthy son of Thakur…” But going back to Deoghar and the ashram, you’ll have to face criticism, blame, slander and you’ll always be in financial trouble…”

“I’ve never given the idea any importance. Do you know why ?” Kazal became very serious. “Because Ma used to tell me she prayed to Thakur for me and then after I came she prayed to him so she could make a perfect flower to put on the alter of her Lord. I’m not sure just how perfect it is, but I know I can’t disappoint her. Even more, Thakur’s mission….. not just the hospital or university, but all the people who are searcing …. I can’t ignore him or them and be happy. So I guess on Wednesday it’s back to Deoghar and the slow, stumbling effort to make his of a Hospital and Medical College a reality”

As the winter slowly gave way to spring, Thakur’sphysical condition deteriorated rapidly. Big fans replaced the heaters in Thakur’s room. In late March four of us were sitting with him as he smoked his water pipe. He kept looking at Kazal. Abruptly, he put aside the stem of the pipe and child-like with an almost piteous, helpless appeal asked, “If I come as your son and I don’t like to read all these messages I’ve said, you won’tbeat me wil you?”

To be continued  --- next