The Mother Divine
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(Excerpts from The Maid in the Quest of Her Beloved)
Sri Sri Sitaramdas Omkarnath

Concluding part (Contd..)
Ramdas: Well, Crazy father, can you suggest how one can attain to jeevanmukti with effortless ease?

The Crazy Man: Yes, I can:
“Guroh Seva Guror Dhyanam Guroh Stotram Guror Japah
Guroh puja gurostriptir guror bhaktir Nrinam yadi
Janma bhagya vashad Devi yesham samjayati kwachit
Tesham Mantro bhavet siddho jeevanmukta schate narah.

Got it, Ramdas? Those men who by luck of birth can serve Guru, meditate on him, sing hymns in praise of him, do japa of “Guru”, wor­ship him, earn his pleasure and get to revere him can attain to fulfilment of Mantra: They indeed are Jeevan mukta.

Ramdas: Is there any other way?

The Crazy Man:
Durga Durgeti Durgeti Durga Nama Param Manu
Jo japet Satatam Chandi Jeevan-muktah sa manavah
                                               (Mundamala Tantra)

He who constantly does Japa of the supreme Mantra “Durga Durga Durga is Jeevan-Mukta.”
Ramdas: Is it not possible for a Vaishnava to be Jeevan-mukta?

The Crazy Man: Oh yes, it is!
        “Navyam Navyam Namadheyan Murare
Yad Jachchaitat geya piyush pushtam
Ye gayanti tyaktava lajjam saharsham
Jeevan-muktah samshayo nasti tatra.

They undoubtedly are Jeevan-muktas who, oblivious to all sense of shame, joyfully sing the perpetually fresh nectar-nourished names of Murari, such names, i.e. as Hari, Keshava, Govinda, Mukunda, etc.

Ramdas: how do they fare who say “Rama Rama”?

The Crazy Man:

Shri Rameti Manushyo yah samuchcharati sarvada
Jeevan-mukto bhavet so he sakshat Ramatmaka sudhi.

That wise man who is deeply devoted to Rama and always utters “Sri Rama” becomes Jeevan-mukta, Jai Ram Sitaram.

By saying “Shiva Shiva” too one can become Jeevan-mukta. What is wanted my son, is practice, exercise. The way, for this, degenerate age, is to sing the name, which is a very soft way, indeed. Jai Ram Sitaram, Jai Jai Ram Sitaram.

Ramdas: Well, Crazy father, does every seeker’s body behave in this manner?

The Crazy Man: Jai Sitaram, would you listen, my child? Listen to what happened to my Srimati who, as you know, was all love.

My Radha, languishing for the absence of her darling Shyam, had been in a state of living death through continuous weeping, when—

Sahasa vajila vanshi poha-ila rati.
Chanchala phuladala nabeena pravati
Kala esechhe bhalo besechhe.
Suddenly the flute was heard and the day dawned.
Fresh morning flowers—they bestirred themselves,
And there came Kala (Krishna) who loved Radha still.
Radha was in great haste to meet him, but she came, as it were, to be petrified. A very similar experience and incident occurred to my Mother too:—
Margachala vyatokara kuliteva sindhuh
Sailadhiraja tanay na yayau na tasyo.
She could neither move nor stay.
Rowing profusely she perspired.
Stamvah swedo tha romancha swarabhangascha vepathuh
Vaivarnamasru pralaya itvastau Sattvika smritah.

Radha said to herself;
Marakata mukura hia hamari
                        Tua rupa kalo chhavi satata nehari
Neela jalada tanu Kishora shyama tanu
                        venu vadana manohari.
Srimukha bhati Jini sarada Chandrama
                        Hasa Vilasa Vihari.
(Kiva) Charu chikura jala Chhori alakadala
                        Mandita shikhi pakha chude
(Kiva) Chahani ki bhangima Mridula bankima
                        Bhava ki janata murde.
Mala malati gale Peeta vasana dole
                        Chandima chapale khele madhuri,
Nupura rava suni vandhua mane gani
                        (vandhu) Ham sajinu aji piyari.

An emerald mirror is my heart;
There I ever see your dark lovely image.
Like a sable cloud is your green boyish form!
How sweet you play on the flute!
The lovely face-how it beams! More than the autumn moon!
He smiles bewitchingly, the sportive youth.
Lovely rich is his cluster of hair decked not with hanging locks
But with peacock plume on crest.
Winningly he looks—Oh what gestures!
Soft but arch—His feelings no silly lass can guess.
With malati garland dressed, his yellow cloth waves,
The mellow moon on lightning plays—Oh how attractive!
Listening to the anklet’s tinkle, “Mon ami” I suppose
Dearest I have dressed myself as your darling.
Radharani felt thrilled, her hairs stood on end
How numerous were the sounds that broke of themselves from her mouth.
Ar bansi baja-o-na Shyam!
Bansir sure pagala kare,
Rakhte nari kulaman
Play no more on your flute, O Shyam.
Its tune drives me mad—
And I know not how to keep my family’s honour.

Radharani’s limbs began to shiver, she could not move, her body turned pale, livid. Out of her lily-eyes rained incessant tears and flooded her lotus-face. No more could she hold herself. She lost her senses and dropped down. Down she dropped, to be sure, but not on the floor, there came Shyam and spread his breast and clasped her with his arms.
Shateka varasa Pare Bandhua milala ghare
                Radhikar antare ullas,
Haranidhi painu vali laila hridaye tuli
                        Rakhite na sahe avakash.
                        Milala duhu tanu kiva aparupa—
Chakora paila chand patiya piriti phand
                        Kamalini Paola madhupa.
Rasa bhare duha tanu dhara thara kanpai
                        Duhu doha aveshe bhor,
Duhuka milane aji Nibhaola anala
                        Paola virahaka ora.
Ratana Palanka pare vaithala duhu jana
                        Duhu mukha herai duhu anande.
Harasa salila bhare Hera-i na para-i
                        Animeshe Rahala Dhonde.
Aji malayanila Mridu mridu vahata
                        Niramala chanda prakasha
Bhave bhare gada-gada Chamara dulayata
                        Pashe rahi Chandidasa.
After a hundred years at last
Her beloved calls at her door,
Great is the exultation in Radhika’s heart.
“My lost treasure I’ve recovered,” she says
And picks him up to-her bosom,
Losing not a moment to lay him safe there
They meet, their two bodies, Oh how lovely
The chakor has caught the moon, setting a trap of love;
The lotus meets her honey-bee.
In ecstasy their two bodies shiver,
They shiver as aspen leaves.
Each in the other being rapt.
The meeting of the two today
Extinguishes the burning embers.
The pangs of separation heal at last!
On the gemmed couch the two sit,
Each seeing the other’s face with joy.
Finding no end to their sea of delight.
They gaze unwinking at each other ,
The warm spring wind blows gently today
The spotless moon is up.
Choked with ecstasy, Chandidas stands by
Waving the holy tail-fan for them,
The Crazy Man felt sort of overpowered, while singing the song. The tears streamed from his eyes, the half-closed eyes were still. After a pause, Ramdas cried, “Oh Crazy father.” The Crazy Man sprang to his feet and clapped his hands, as he sang: “Radhe Govinda Jai, Radha Govinda Radha Govinda Bala Radhe Govinda.” Ramdas joined:
“Jai Radhe Radhe Govinda Bala
Radha Radha Govindha Bala.”
Jai Sitaram!