Ocean in a Teacup ch 37 pp 361-367

Chapter 37 pp 361

The Saraswati Puja (the annual celebration for the Goddess ofLearning) took placeon Thursday, January 23rd in 1969. A small group of us, Andre Louis, a recent French disciple, Spence, recently returned after a few years of touring India. Mahadev Poddar and myself decided late wednessday night to visit Deoghar for a day before continuing the program of meetings that would enable us to get those unnecessary cars we thought were so important.

We reached Deoghar Thursday morning. After explaining our progress, Spence gave Thakur a bottle of honey he had received from Kasyap Pal Choudhury. “Give it to Ray,” he said. I took it. “What’ll I do with it?” “Feed me” was Thakur’s cryptic reply.

“We’ll leave this afternoon, Thakur” I began. “--- Why” Thakur interrupted “--- there’s a big meeting in Murshidabad where we may get five thousand rupees for a car.”

“Why?” thakur insisted. “For the car, Thakur!” I raised my voice thinking he hadn’t heard, “Why?” Thakur repeated. “You wanted cars, thakur,” I reminded him.

“When will you come back? I have some talks.”

“Sunday or Monday,” I offered,

Thakur’s demeanor suddenly changed. His eyes gripped mine. He became more insistent. “Will you fix everything up?” “The car issue is in high gear, Thakur,” I reassured him.

“Will you fix everything u?” Thakur’s eyes were more piercing, his voice more demanding. “Thakur, everything is alright!” My voice was tense.

“Say; you’ll fix everything up!”

Like a schoolboy, I repeated rote: “I’ll fix everything up.”

“Say it again louder.” I’d never seen Thakur so insistent.

I’ll fix everything up!” I shouted. Thakur leaned back on his pillows but his eyes held mine remorsely. After a few moments of silence, I left his room. A few hours later I returned to say good-bye as we left for the meeting.

“Thik kore phelbe, to?” (You’ll really fix everything upP. Again he caught my eyes as if in a vice, I nodded, pulled my eyes away and left. Little did I suspect how badly – so very badly --- I had missed! That awareness and the resulting anguish were to come later. However, true to my promise, I left Calcutta three day later on Sunday evening by the Delhi Express.

Sunday morning. January 26th, 1969 in Deoghar was crisp and clear. Bor’da came to Thakur Bari very early for the prayer. Kazal arrived at almost the same time from his room near Thakur. Finally, at 7:00 A.M. the attendants pulled the curtains aside, opened the siding windows and a group of about 300 looked in at their Thakur, 81 years old, all wrapped in a soft white quit and looking more radiant that he had for long long time. All bowed and began that prayer-hymn in Hindi that had been handed down generation after generation for more than a century from the original Satsang in Agra. As the prayer ended it seemed that Thakur looked happier than he had for many months. Even the doctors’ reports supported this. His heart, his pulse, blood pressure, even his chronic pharyngitis seemed to have become normal.

Thakur called to each person as he hadn’t done for a long time: “How are you? When did you come?” and then began asking almost everyone for rashagollas, sandesh, jilipis and other Bengal sweets. Instead of sending them to the kitchen when they were brought as had always been the custom, Thakur would ask each person, “Feed me.” To the joy of each, who seldom if ever had this opportunity to feed Thakur with their won hand, he would take their offering and eat it with great relish. There was such obvious joy, so much apparent physical strength, that everyone, particularly those who had been under constant tension twenty-four hours a day for the past many months, they felt perhaps… perhaps … he was going to get better.

The evening prayer was as calm and hopeful as the day had been. A few people came and went quietly and his evening meal with Chotto Ma and Bor’da present as usual, and which by now consisted only of liquid protein, passed uneventfully…. In fact, all was so serene and Thakur so happy, each went to their respective room or house with a renewed sense of security. Things were so restful, by mid-night the usual attendants began to leave one by one --- Bishu, Bankim-da, Durgesh – until there was only Satish Das outside the net and two women attendants inside, one of whom was sleeping while the other massaged Thakur’s legs.

In the dim glow of the electric heaters, the outline of that bulky body could barely be seen. At 3:00 A.M. he coughed. The lights were turned on. Kazal came, gave Thakur some pethindine and left for his room and then to the bathroom. Satish brought Thakur his hookah which he smoked without coughing, lay down and immediately fell in a sound sleep, Satish, certain that Thakur would not awaken before morning, went to bed.

At 3:30, thakur sat up, pointed to something behind Sudapani Ma and again went to sleep.

Meanwhile having arrived at Jasidih at 3:05, taken a rickshaw, crossed the rail line into Rohini road, I stopped in front of our house. It was 3:30 and very cold. Besides thakur would surely be sleeping. I might as well too. I entered our house and without undressing, lay down on my bed exhausted. I heard the bell strike four as I fell asleep.

At 4:50, Sudapani Ma found Thakur sleeping so soundly, she felt secure in leaving him to go to the bathroom. As she left the room, however, she called Thakur’s sister who was sleeping nearby. A few minutes later she arose and drawing closer noticed in the dim light that her brother’s face liked unnaturally pale. She saw no sign of breathing and began to call out frantically. I was too late. Within a few moments, Kazal arrived to give an adrenaline hydrochloride injection direct to the heart. Bor’da arrived. Bankim-da arrived. Quickly the room filled. But there was no pulse, no breathing, no life. At 81, Thakur, the inspiring source of several millions of people had left his body quietly, simply, peacefully, without a soul present.

The word spread rapidly. Weeping people streamed in. Some stood dumb as if in shock. I was awakened at 5:30 A.M. Entering the yard I heard the weeping. A numbness slowly crept over my body. I entered Thakur’s room. My eyes caught Bor’da’s who was sitting at Thakurs feet facing the door. “Father has gone,” he said pathetically. Tears glistened in his eyes. Kazal, seated at Thakur’s head with his back toward the door and his Mother across from him, reached back and I impetuously grabbed his hand in sympathy.

I spent the remainder of the day trying to make some sense out of it at all. I quickly learned the facts about the last hours of Thakur from each of the attendants. At the time, at the height of anguish, the truth came forth spontaneously and unadorned. The more I learned, the more oppressed I became as I realized how delinquent I had been. He had given me so many opportunities to prove in practice my oft repeated declaration that his only desire was to be first in our lives. I missed on the previous Thursday when he wanted me to stay and talk! I’d been stupidly blind early that morning when I decided at 3:45 that he’d be sleeping and went tobed! How innocently he had done it! No accusations. No recriminations. He had left me and so many others to our own set of priorities – whether comfort, prestige or socialprogram. The fact was there that morning blatant and unvarnished There was one who had been able to stick with him all the way. Some had come closer than others, and among the many who presumed a special place amongst the devotees, I was perhaps the most callously delinquent.

As I moved restlessly back and forth, in and out of Thakur’s room looking at his face, so serene as if sleepingand observed the weeping followers casting flowers on his body. Bor’da quickly took over this leaderless shattered family. The immediate consideration was a place for the cremation. Quickly it became apparent how carefully Thakur had pre-arranged it. That one-half acre of land which Thakur had kept intact, now proved the perfect place for his samadhi. It would and has become place of pilgrimage, where people find a peace found not where else.

Hindu tradition demanded that the cremation begin before the sun touched the horizon or it would have to be postponed until the following day. Chor’da, thakur’s second son arrived from Calcutta. So did his second daughter, Santana-di

The, almost twelve hours after Thakur had left his body, that heavy, bulky body was carried out of his room on one of his large bed-steads by many Brahmins. His bereft sons and daughters by birth and by cllture followed it down the driveway of the Thakur Bar he had entered almost a quarter century earlier. As the procession turned south towards the pyre that had been built high with sandal wood, The intolerable anguish could no longer be suppressed. As if by some unseen direction, the crowd began toprpeat: “Ra-dha-soa-mi ! Ra-dha-soa-mi !” It quickly spread from mouth to mouth until seemed the Name was reverberating from te skies, from the road, the trees and even Thakur’s body was floating on that Name wich thousands realized and millions believed he incarnated. Into the gate of that now walled-in area that overlooked the valley the procession moved.

So carefully, so gently, his bodywas lifted on to the pyre. Amidst muffed sobs, Bor’da lit the fire, the sandalwood burstinto flames as hisbody slowly disappeared from sight behind them. The sun begantosink behind Digheria Hill, the sky became red and the fields, the roads, the walls were jammed with people as each succeeding train brought a new group of weeping devotees from Bengal, Bihar, Orissa.

Late in the evening only smoldering ashes remained. One y one, each retraced hs steps towards Thakur’s room. It seemed as if we must hear that familiar voice shout so intimately, so lovingly: “Hey … when did you come?” or “What’s the news?” But there was a strange silence and a sad picture of Thakur sitting on the bedstead propped up by the pillows he had used. People bowed and wept and went home desolate. There were manywho later would swear that the sky never seemed so blue again, nor did the sun ever shine so bright and friendly after January 27th, 1969.

Ocean in a Tea-cup Pp 356-360

contd from previous blog post

“Father, please don’t sy this again and again.” There were tears in Kazal’s eyes. Is voice shook with emotion. “You always stay my father.” By this time similar comments had been made before many and varied people. It was to become a further step in what has, in retrospect proven to be a very careful, perceptive and yet so apparently innocent plan for the near and distant future.


By the rainy season, 1968, Kazal was back permanently and in charge of Thakur’s medical treatment. Bor’da was in almost constant attendance except for the few hours e sent at his home dealing with the problems administration. Borda’s eldest son, Asoke, now a lawyer and having spent much of his time organizing and integrating the huge Satsang following in Assam was called back to Deoghar by Thakur and requested by his grandfather to take care of him and assist his father, Bor’da, in his increasing responsilities. Asoke quickly became for this father what bor’da was to Thakur. So, from July, 1968, besides Bankim-da, Pyari-da, Noni-da, Bishu-da and other experienced devotees who had been with Thakkur all their lives, now either Bor’da, Kazal or Asoke were in almost constant attendance.

A few months earlier a ½ acre plot of land along the western side of Roini Road between Thakur Bari and Bor’da’s house had been acquired. Thakur shrugged off all suggestions to make ether a garden, a guest house or a retreat for himself. It overlooked the Darwa River which might someday flow with the Ganges and six milesin the distance was Digheria Hill behind which the sun set each evening and around which Thakur had awakened dreams of a 30,000 acre University City with an astronomy college and observatory on that hill.

In October, 1968, Thakur looked out the window of his room, pointed to the oldest building in the yard, the building in which Thakur had first lived on coming to Deoghar and filled with memories and moments of exaltation and love.

“Tear it down.” Thakur’s words were not a query or even a request. For one who refused to pull out an old, decayed tooth because”…. It had given so much service….” Or sell a twenty year old jeepfor the same reason, this peremptory command left all non-plussed. Thakur would not be denied and within a week the area was levelled to leave a large open area between Thakur and Boro Ma’s room.

Through the later half of 1968, thakur would preface each request for some large project with the words, “… whether I live or die….” Get the university or hospital. Each such remark would be met by moving appeals from Bod’da, Kazal, other senior disciples “…please don’t speak that way, Thakur….” With folded hands and tear-filled eyes, hissons by birth and sons by culture appealed and prayed.

It is believed that personalities like Thakur cannot ignore such appeals by a devotee. That made it easy: never allow him to be without one. He made that even simpler. For several years he had requested myself and others like me to come and live in Thakur ari near him. I had put it off. Several time he had requested Bor’da to live there. He perhaps felt the needs of the administration make it difficult. He put it off. Often he had requested Kazal to sleep with him at night. Perhaps feeling it was the over exuberance of a love father, he also delayed doing so.

All planned to stay with him. But not just then. Later when it really would be necessary. But for the present we would live in the comfortable surroundings we were accustomed to. How innocently, how simply he exposed us all! We worked for his causes. We prayed for his health. We appealed to all to grow in devotion!

By now Thakur could not move without help. Attendants were with him throughout the night. The winter came early in 1968. Heater were back again. Constantly he would repeat the phrase from Shakespeare : ‘There are more things twixt heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy, Horatio.’ And as we’d ponder this he’d add; ‘But for a nail, a battle was lost….’ What were those “things” ? What was that nail.

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

The Miracle at Deoghar on Agamani Day 2011

Received from Subhajit Kundu


"Dear MAA and all GURUVAI’s,

An unbelievable thing(Miracle) was happened on Thakur's AGOMONI Utsav in DEOGARH on 2nd September. See below to feel this unbelievable incident.

On that early morning, when just the morning prayer was going to happen heavy rain started to fall. So many of gruvais could not come out of their respective pandels and could not attend prayer at BORONATMANDWAP. But through microphone everyone could hear the prayer. There PARAMPUJONIYO BABAIDADA had announced that--- Our PROCESSION will start at 7:50am,everyone should attend this and you may dress in white punjabi, dhoti or others and shoes but don't take any umbrella with you. As far the instruction everyone got prepared for procession without umbrella but the dark black cloud still moving on the sky of Deoghar. But with utter surprise it was noted that although there was cloud but no rain during time of Procession from 7:50am-9:50am.Rain started to fall as soon as the Procession ends.

All the guruvais who were resent there had seen this miracle incident and once again experienced the daya of sri sri THAKUR through the call of Rev.BABAIDADA. -------

"Istwo guru purusottam

Protik guru bongsodhor

Reto sorire supto theke jento tini nirontor"

Shri Shri Thakur's Dream Projects

Shri Shri Thakur dreamt of three different projects and appealed to all his disciples to materialise his dream at the earlest opportunity. Ray Houserman one of the close associate of Shri Shri Thakur recorded thakurji's wishes in his book "Ocean in a Teacup". Here given the extract of pages of that book pages 252-254. The projects were 1) Ganga Darwa Canal to connect Darwa river near Deoghar with Ganga at Sultanganj about 60 km north of Deoghar, 2) Shandilya University at Deoghar which will be a universal site of higher education and research on the ideal of Satsang, 3) A 500 bed hospital which will provide all modern facilities of treatment.

 

Vrigu Samhita Forecast of Shri Shri Thakur - english translation only

Source: `Bhrigu Samhita'. Readings on Sri Sri Thakurji's horoscope. This `Bhrigu Samhita' ( after copying) was brought by Sushil Bose, on instructions from Sri Sri Thakurji, from the library of the King of Kashmir.

He was born in his previous birth in a part of Bengal . He was dark-complexioned And was not of a tall height. He was uneducated but high-minded and `music & sound' was his favourite subject. He used to be chastised on this account by his parents

Achieving the highest knowledge he abandoned all expectations of earthly peace and happiness. He attained Paramhans-hood through acute sadhana (spiritual pursuits). There was no difference to him between iron & gold.

He had no craving for earthly desires. He used to stay away from His parents & family.

He had never, even in His dreams, thought of a woman & used to look at all women as mothers. In His sadhana (spiritual pursuits) of motherhood, He achieved siddhi. He used to stay surrounded by many disciples.

Through His wonderful efforts the illiterate and the uneducated could talk about the ultimate truth. He was the knower of the Truth and the highest wisdom with very little

Meditation. If His body touched gold or woman, His limbs used to feel acute piercing pain.

[ Note- This entire description matches with that of Ramkrishna Paramhans. He had died of throat-cancer. ]

He was born again on earth to bring up and protect the disciples with care. He was born again to impart knowledge to His disciples & devotees.

He comes back in the month of Bhadra for the sake of the knowledge of disciples.

[ Note- Sri Sri Thakurji's advent took place on 30th Bhadra, Bengali year 1295, that is 15th September 1888.]

About present life

He is learned, reputed, rich & widely known.

He is knower to His disciples with high reputation in many parts universally.

He deals with `mantras', `Shabda-bhedi' ( one who can penetrate sound) and expert in uprooting `pisachas' (devils).

He is soft spoken, highly learned, kind hearted & merciful.

He is knower of Dharma ( eternal principles of life & growth), all scriptures & mathematical science.

Though unread, He is knower of the scriptures, and speaks with accuracy about chemical sciences.

He is possessed of high qualities, with attractive physical features. He is dignified with comforts of vehicles & carriers.

He is Yogi of the highest order, being `Nad-siddha' ( controller of sound) & knower of Brahm ( the Supreme Being) and the Vedas.

He has princely wealth and many many disciples.

He shines in `Tapa' mediatation & wisdom and is the knower of the deep real meaning of the scriptures.

If death comes, it will be on the wishes of the greatest Muni ( Sage) Himself.

His death will be at His own will, whether its curtailed life or unlimited longevity.

His rebirth has to come for the upliftment of creation, for the welfare of His disciples & to redeem the creatures, particularly the miserable sufferers.

His advent takes place again in the family of His youngest son, for the glory of His mission.

[ Note- Rev. Dr. P.R. Chakraborty, alias Rev. Kajal da, is the youngest son of Sri Sri Thakurji. His only son was born on 15 January 1971. Name ' Ananyachandra Chakraborty' . Referred to as "Anant Sri Baba" He is being followed as the Living Ideal, the Sadguru. Right from birth His speech & actions reveal the Supreme Divine Light & His Leela surpasses all. Abhorring all publicity & keeping Himself away from much exposure He is blazing forth in guiding His disciples on the path of very high levels of spiritual pursuits, towards bringing about the final solution of all the problems of the world which is now facing the biggest crisis... the crisis of existence.]

Vrigu Samhita Forecast of Shri Shri Thakur

Source: `Bhrigu Samhita'. Readings on Sri Sri Thakurji's horoscope. This `Bhrigu Samhita' ( after copying) was brought by Sushil Bose, on instructions from Sri Sri Thakurji, from the library of the King of Kashmir.

About the previous life of Sri Sri Thakurji

Aaseet purvabhave kaschit

murdhaja Bang-khandakai
surdhunee samipetat
shyamang naati dirghakam

Toyantrikam vrithaya cha


Vidyahinah mahamatih
Gita naade parapreetih
Janke naiva taaditah.

He was born in his previous birth in a part of Bengal . He was dark-complexioned And was not of a tall height. He was uneducated but high-minded and `music & sound' was his favourite subject. He used to be chastised on this account by his parents.

Tatvagyani shodashaccha
Khanetatr munisattam


Mahatatvam sukham praapya
Sarva asha vinirmukhah

Paramhans padarudha
Janjanmantararjitah


Samdarshi mahabhagah
Abheda loshtri kanchane.

Achieving the highest knowledge he abandoned all expectations of earthly peace and happiness. He attained Paramhans-hood through acute sadhana (spiritual pursuits). There was no difference to him between iron & gold.

Vittamadhye ruchinaiva
Darpanchat prithakpunah


Pritropakshat prithakchaiva
Sansaroccha prithak abhut.

Nari chinta na vai swapne
Matrivat pashyati swatah


Matribhavat mahasiddhi
Bahu shishya suveshtitah.

He had no craving for earthly desires. He used to stay away from His parents & family.

He had never, even in His dreams, thought of a woman & used to look at all women as mothers. In His sadhana (spiritual pursuits) of motherhood, He achieved siddhi. He used to stay surrounded by many disciples.

Apurva tasya cheshtapi
Mukhorpi tatvabhashak


Swalp dhyane mahapragyah
Gudh tatvarth tatva-vit

Samadhau cha vyatha cha taata
Pramada kanchanadibhih


Sparshamatre vikritanga
Shoolviddhavat tada.

Through His wonderful efforts the illiterate and the uneducated could talk about the ultimate truth. He was the knower of the Truth and the highest wisdom with very little

Meditation. If His body touched gold or woman, His limbs used to feel acute piercing pain.

Shaktihinoabhvat tasmat

Galrogat mritottare

He, at last, lost His strength and died of a disease of the throat.

[ Note- This entire description matches with that of Ramkrishna Paramhans. He had died of throat-cancer. ]

Punarjanm dhara-pristhe

Shishyanam palane yenta

Vardhabne rakshen tatha.

Shishyarthe janmvai tasya

Shishyarthe punarjjani

He was born again on earth to bring up and protect the disciples with care. He was born again to impart knowledge to His disciples & devotees.

Bhadramase site pakhse


Punargata vai urvvi
Shishyanam gyan hetave.

He comes back in the month of Bhadra for the sake of the knowledge of disciples.

[ Note- Sri Sri Thakurji's advent took place on 30th Bhadra, Bengali year 1295, that is 15th September 1888.]

About present life

Vidyavan keertiman shriman
Dhandhau bahushrutvan

He is learned, reputed, rich & widely known.

Saarvabhauma shishyamadhye
Bhaudeshe cha keertibhak.

Mantravadi shabdabehdi

Pisacchocchatne patuh.

He is knower to His disciples with high reputation in many parts universally.

He deals with `mantras', `Shabda-bhedi' ( one who can penetrate sound) and expert in uprooting `pisachas' (devils).

Mridubhashi suvidwanscha

Dayavan kshamavan tatha

Dharmabuddhi shashtraviccha
Ganitshashtravit tatha.

He is soft spoken, higly learned, kind hearted & merciful.

He is knower of Dharma ( eternal principles of life & growth), all scriptures & mathematical science.

ApataNadapi shashtragyah
Rasayandi siddhivak

Gunvan rupvan saumya
Yanvahan saurathyukt

Though unread, He is knower of the scriptures, and speaks with accuracy about chemical sciences.

He is possessed of high qualities, with attractive physical features. He is dignified with comforts of vehicles & carriers.

Shrshtayogi naadsiddhah

Brahhmvit vedvidambarah

Rajvat vibhavat chasya
Rajvat shsihyavai bahu

He is Yogi of the highest order, being `Nad-siddha' ( controller of sound) & knower of Brahm ( the Supreme Being) and the Vedas.

He has princely wealth and many many disciples.

Tapah jyotih dhyani gyani

Shshtragudharth tatvavit

He shines in `Tapa' mediatation & wisdom and is the knower of the deep real meaning of the scriptures.

Yadi mrityu nivarteta

Swechhaya munisattam

Ichhamrityu ayam Sriman
Mitayu amitayuh hi

If death comes, it will be on the wishes of the greatest Muni ( Sage) Himself.

His death will be at His own will, whether its curtailed life or unlimited longevity.

About Rebirth

Punaravartana chasya

Jeevorvve shishya hetave

Paritranaya jeevanaam

Aartanam cha visheshatah.

Laghu putrasya grihe punah
Aatmanan karya gaurvaat.

His rebirth has to come for the upliftment of creation, for the welfare of His disciples & to redeem the creatures, particularly the miserable sufferers.

His advent takes place again in the family of His youngest son, for the glory of His mission.

[ Note- Rev. Dr. P.R. Chakraborty, alias Rev. Kajal da, is the youngest son of Sri Sri Thakurji. His only son was born on 15 January 1971. Name ' Ananyachandra Chakraborty' . Referred to as "Anant Sri Baba" He is being followed as the Living Ideal, the Sadguru. Right from birth His speech & actions reveal the Supreme Divine Light & His Leela surpasses all. Abhorring all publicity & keeping Himself away from much exposure He is blazing forth in guiding His disciples on the path of very high levels of spiritual pursuits, towards bringing about the final solution of all the problems of the world which is now facing the biggest crisis... the crisis of existence.]