Everyday Yogi

by H. S. Shivaprakash

  I was then using the first floor of my house since the ground floor had been rented out to a family from Hubli. I wanted to spend the night meditating in peace, but just the opposite was in the offing. My tenant’s two sons had organized a big drinking party and had invited young boys of their age. All night they were screaming, swearing and shouting four-letter words. I could not sleep even a wink and was deeply troubled. Why was this disturbance happening on such an auspicious day?

  This was my first kriya yoga lesson. Market yoga gurus advertise only the favourable aspects of yoga. They emphasize how one can get greater sexual vigour or a better figure or an increased income. They often succeed in their goals because even if one does yoga in small doses, such pleasant results do come about, for a time.

  However, genuine sadhana is no tonic or drug. It is a journey resulting in complete inner transformation. When you intensify sadhana, disturbing things can happen: you may find yourself undergoing experiences that are loathsome and even frightening; you may feel as if the earth you are standing on has given way or the sky has collapsed; friends may turn enemies and nectar into poison. Such experiences keep coming until you are able to attain complete enlightenment. This is what Swami Buddhananda had explained later.

  However, it took me a little while to understand all this. Initially, I found the gap between my idea of sadhana and actual experience most upsetting. Exasperated, I asked Swami Buddhananda, ‘What’s great about kriya yoga if it has such negative consequences? I was getting a lot more peace while practicing other sadhanas.’

  He said, ‘Peace is never the goal of spiritual practice. Since the mind is shaped by ego, it longs for a certain kind of peace, which is a tamasic state. The ego-mind cannot even guess the nature of ultimate peace. When you start cleaning a house, the scorpions and snakes that may be hiding in dark corners of the house start crawling out. What do you do? You have to step aside and stay calm till they get out of the house. If you start screaming in fear, they will retreat once again.

  ‘When you practice raja yoga, you progress by understanding every stage intellectually as well. This is not the case with tantric practices like kriya yoga or mantra yoga, where you don’t need to ‘understand’: you simply move forward like someone wearing a shield and walking through tempests.

  ‘Moments of trial are inevitable; but so are the moments of peace that you pass through. Once kundalini begins to rise, nothing is in your control; it will not let you go anywhere till you reach the destination, no matter how hard the ego-mind protests. Actually, the intellect can also become an obstacle. A person thinks that if he can find liberation through the power of the ego-mind, there will be no need for sadhana. But can you tell me one problem that logic has solved in this world? You can’t. This is why we trust the guru and ride the vehicle of sadhana. There is no other option.’

  With Swami Buddhananda’s guidance, I practised kriya yoga with great intensity from 1981 to 1995, and this period was the most turbulent time of my life. I noticed that whenever I went deeper into my sadhana, my family life became unsettled. As I’ve said before, my marriage was the most regrettable part of my life; by now, it had completely broken down. However, my mind still refused to face the truth. I would use my son as an excuse to run away from the bitter reality of my marriage. I also threw myself into my literary career so that I did not have to think about my personal life. But when did neglect of the problem ever solve it? Strangely enough, this period was also the most creative phase in my life.

  At one point, I invited Swami Buddhananda to stay in my house and conduct a yoga training camp for some of my students. My house was located in a muddy area. After ushering Swami Buddhananda into my house, I said, ‘Sorry about the mud outside the house.’ He replied cryptically, ‘There appears to be more mud inside the house then outside.’

  Swami Satyananda was always with me in those days in the form of Swami Buddhananda. Whenever some problem was near at hand, warnings and instructions would come from Swami Satyananda through the form of Swami Buddhananda.

  I found out one day that Swami Satyananda was coming to Mumbai, so I travelled to Mumbai to meet him. By this time, my marriage was like a wound filled with pus. Another source of sadness was the fact that Swami Buddhananda, my only confidant in those days, had been asked to leave India because his visa was about to expire. I hoped to get some advice from Swami Satyananda on my problems.

  Swami Satyananda was staying in a house near Churchgate. On the first day, he met all his devotees in a hall. Along with Swami Buddhananda, an Australian nun, Swamini Muktananda, was also to leave since her visa was expiring too. Both of them sat in front of the guru with sad faces. Said Swami Satyananda very quietly and firmly, ‘We are doing our best to get your visa extended. However, the Government of India has changed the visa rules. Not everything is in our hands and I do not care. I carry no burdens; I am free. This whole world is like a hotel. We come, stay here for a while and then part. Atman alone survives all changes.’

  Swami Satyananda delivered a sermon the same evening at the Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan. He spoke of the significance of mantra yoga in the age of Kali. He said, ‘My path is Advaita Vedanta, but I preach mantra yoga for a reason. The majority of people in this age are incapable of practising Vedanta because their minds are full of rajas, restlessness. For such people, tantric methods like the chanting of mantras; yantra or mandala worship; and the practice of kriya yoga, work well. Through these methods, one can transcend the mind without having to understand it, as one would have to do in the case of raja yoga.’

  The next day, Swami Buddhananda arranged a private meeting between Swami Satyananda and me. When I entered his room, I found him doing the japa and counting beads. When he looked at me, I came straight to the point. I told him that the more I pursued kriya yoga, the more complicated my external life became. What was I supposed to do?

  He replied, ‘That is the way it should be. If you practise it for three hours daily, how can you say it should not affect your external life? Indeed, the changes that happen in your outer life are the signs of your spiritual progress. Still, if matters become uncontrollable, stop your sadhana for a while until things become normal. Remember that sadhana always brings out both the good and the evil within us. So don’t expect the path to be so smooth.’

  He wanted to know about my job, and we talked about my work for a while. After that, he retreated into silence. When I was about to walk out of the room, he looked at me searchingly and I felt as if some electric current was passing through me. That was the moment when turbulent changes started happening in my life.

  After I returned to Bangalore, I learnt that the two Australians had not succeeded in getting a visa extension. I felt such a hollowness in my heart at the thought of Swami Buddhananda leaving. It wasn’t easy for him either. He hid himself away for a few days, perhaps in order to steel his heart against this fact and to come to terms with the inevitable.

  A day before his departure, however, Swami Buddhananda spent a long time with me, and it was an unforgettable evening. He was not given to expressing his emotions, even if it was his concern for others, but I managed to see how much he cared for me.

  I asked him, yet again, about my family life. ‘Things have reached a dead end. How can I save this marriage?’

  He replied, ‘Why are you trying to save something that is not worth saving?’

  I persisted. ‘What about my son?’

  He got annoyed. ‘Many married people are stupid. Even when the marriage has completely broken down they pretend that everything is fine. And they tell you that they are keeping up appearances for the sake of their children. That is how they fool themselves. Who are the victims of this dishonesty? The children. True, they should do their best to save the marriage, but when it doesn’t work, they should part decently. This is very important for children because decisiveness in the atmosphere makes things easier for them; it is the uncertainty that is weakening. Just because people bear children doesn’t mean
they have to take all responsibility for them. Even little ones have their karmas to live up to.’

  ‘Another woman is coming close to me. How should I stop it?’

  ‘Why should you?’

  ‘Isn’t a woman maya for a sadhaka?’

  ‘Then what are you to the woman? Are you not maya for her as well? The truth is that all your yogis, celibates and ascetics worship Shiva and Parvati; Lakshmi and Narayana; and Radha and Krishna. Who are these people? Understand that there is no Shiva without Shakti; all of us do sadhana with Shakti. In fact, a woman is Shakti and whoever calls a woman ‘maya’ is not a yogi at all.’

  ‘Monks do it another way. They do not locate Shakti in an outside agent. They recognize the male and female energies in the body and, through the union of these energies, experience greater joy than people who marry.

  ‘During sadhana, Shakti comes in different forms. This Shakti is coming into your life to compensate for the lack in your married life. If both of you now fulfil each other’s needs and help each other, there is nothing wrong. Make sadhana your goal and take whatever comes along the way.’

  I asked him another question. ‘When problems become insoluble, do special observances help?’

  He said, ‘Not always. The goal of sadhana is not to escape problems but to go beyond loyalties like sorrow and happiness. It seems your problem is that you have just become engaged to the guru, you haven’t yet married him. In the West, boys and girls get engaged for a very long time, and not all of them get married. But in a guru–disciple relationship, there has to be absolute chastity. If you have that, just remember him and he is there right in front of you in some form or the other.

  However, there may be times when the guru chooses not to come because he wants you to become independent. You have not yet reached the stage where the guru refuses to come. Be in constant conversation with your guru or your ishta devata, your chosen deity.’

  I raised another problem. ‘According to astrology, I can never get happiness in marriage. Of late, I have been consulting the I Ching, which is making the same prediction.’

  The swami was irritated. ‘It’s all garbage. I know about the I Ching because I lived in China. A lot of people there consider this book the guru and get answers from it. But if you take such sources as gurus, you need to follow them as you would a guru; it is dangerous to merely flirt with them. I am not saying that astrology is nonsense. However, for us, wedded to a guru, the guru mantra and the ishta devata are all we need to find answers within.’

  I was trying to frame another question in my mind. I wanted to ask him how one could avoid base obstacles.

  Before I could speak, we heard sounds of a commotion outside the ashram. A drunken devotee was kicking up a row. ‘Call the swami,’ he screamed.

  Hearing this, Swami Buddhananda said to me, ‘This is a test for you. Go and sort it out.’ I went out of the room to find that the troublemaker had entered the ashram office. He shouted, ‘I want to see God tonight. Until they show God to me I will not budge from here.’

  His drunkenness rendered me speechless; I was unable to say anything to him. The other devotees were trying to reason with him. After a while, Swami Buddhananda came out. He looked at all of us as he went and sat next to the drunken man, who repeated his demand. The swami asked, ‘Is it not true that I am your best friend?’

  The man said, ‘Of course.’

  Swami Buddhananda put his arms around him and said, ‘Come. Let us go for a walk.’

  He led the drunkard out of the main gate and said, ‘How can I show you God in front of so many people? The rest of them are not as evolved as you. They don’t deserve to see God. You come alone at 8.30 a.m. tomorrow, and you will see God.’

  The man was overjoyed. He said, ‘I will surely be there at 8.30 a.m.’ Then he left.

  After coming in, Swami Buddhananda said, ‘There are no predictable solutions to unpredictable problems.’ That was his last message to me.

  For the next eight years, Swami Satyananda and Swami Buddhananda would appear in my dreams to offer me warnings, direction and suggestions. At one point, I started observing long fasts. I would eat just once a day. Swami Satyananda appeared in my dream and said, ‘Don’t forget that even the yogi should feed his body.’

  Many sadhakas try to punish their bodies, but this is actually another kind of indulgence. Self-torture and self-indulgence are not the ways of a yogi. The body is like an automobile that needs energy to move.

  After his return to Australia, Swami Buddhananda and I wrote to each other. While I wrote him long letters, he would send me short replies as brief and cryptic as haikus. Then I learned from him that he had given up his ashram life. Ashram life can become a roadblock for some practitioners if they have lived such a life for a long time. When this happens, they need to move on. Though I was able to understand this eventually, I remember how shocked I was when I first heard the news.

  After Swami Buddhananda left, an elderly monk from the BSY, Munger, came to Bangalore. His name was Swami Kriyananda, and he was an advanced monk. Still, his approach to sadhana was based on conventional piety, just the opposite of Swami Buddhananda’s. I found it difficult to follow Swami Kriyananda’s teachings, and he started accusing Swami Buddhananda of having misled me.

  I stopped going to the ashram but continued my sadhana, guided by the instructions I received in my dreams from Swami Satyananda and Swami Buddhananda. Soon after, Swami Satyananda bequeathed the ashram responsibilities to his disciple Swami Niranjan, and withdrew from external activities, giving himself up entirely to a life of contemplation.

  Now, communication with Swami Satyananda became less frequent and my problems became more complicated. I had become quite famous as a writer but had also earned innumerable enemies in the bargain. I was also having problems with my sadhana. I decided I needed divine intervention. So, I visited the tombs of the greatest Shiva yogis of north Karnataka. I appealed to Siddharoodha of Hubli and Fakireshwar Swami of Shirahatti, and had very powerful experiences at the tombs of both these saints.

  Just as I was drowning in a sea of troubles, help came in the form of Shivalinga Swami. When I encountered this power, the path of my sadhana changed completely.

  But that is a story for another day.

  SIX

  Those Who Strum the Inner Strings

  I had always longed to grasp the teachings of different spiritual schools of the world and, as a consequence, sought out many spiritual disciplines and yogis.

  I had been initiated, like every Virashaiva, into lingam worship when I was eleven. I performed the rituals for quite a while, but then I tired of them; in fact, I found them very boring. As you know, I was never particularly impressed by the Virashaiva monks who visited my house during my childhood because I could see no true spirituality in them or in the rituals we were obliged to carry out for them. The learned lectures and sermons delivered by the monks or by people like my father never struck a chord in me. I had to visit Virashaiva maths with my father, and these visits had no impact on me either. Finally, I had distanced myself from the Virashaiva sect.

  When I started visiting the Ramakrishna Ashram as a teenager, I put away my Shivalinga. My father learnt of this and scolded me, calling me a ‘communist’. On one occasion, Mallikarjuna Swami, the head of a very powerful Virashaiva monastery, came to Bangalore and summoned me. He too told me that I had strayed from the path. All this criticism that came my way did not make me change my mind, although I had to pay a very big price for my stubbornness: I was deprived of my father’s property. I have no regrets about this.

  I explored other spiritual traditions after abandoning my own. Yet, years into sadhana, there came a time when I began to feel a strong desire to understand the spiritual essence of Virashaivism, the faith I was born into, so different from Kashmir Shaivism, the faith I had adopted. I was also distressed by the fact that our Virashaiva monks were making no effort to find evidence for Virashaiva teachings in the ideas of contempora
ry science as was being done by monks of the Ramakrishna order.

  Therefore, while I was following Kashmir Shaivism and also carrying on with my BSY practice, I decided to explore Virashaivism. I got an opportunity when I discovered some books by Sri Kumaraswami, a Virashaiva monk from Navakalyana Math, Dharwad. In his writings, he combined spiritual insights as well as intellectual richness. With a commendable knowledge of modern science, history and philosophy, both Indian and Western, he was able to explicate the basic concepts of Virashaivism, for instance, the linga, representing the macrocosm and anga, representing the microcosm. He wrote in both English and Kannada. Though his English was a little too high-sounding, his Kannada prose was lucid and fascinating. His book Virashaiva Darpana comprises some of the most penetrating essays written on vachanas.

  Sri Kumaraswami came from a rather insignificant Virashaiva sub-sect. Not belonging to any well-established order, he had struck out on his own. He established Shiva yoga centres in West European and Nordic countries, and travelled, lectured and taught yoga in many places there. The rich monastic orders of the Virashaivas tried to marginalize him because, even though he had initiated many Europeans into lingam worship, he had abandoned his own lingam worship, something that had irritated orthodox Virashaivas.

  I happened to read a book of his on Shiva yoga. Written in English, it presented modern scientific evidence to show how this yoga impacts the human body and mind faster than other paths of yoga. The book also argues that Shiva yoga is simpler and safer than kundalini yoga. The Shiva yoga technique involves gazing at a thumb-sized Shivalinga while simultaneously chanting ‘Om namah Shivaya’. When the eyes are fixed on the object and the mind is focused on the mantra, the asana becomes stable and pranayama begins to happen spontaneously. This method is aimed at opening the eyebrow chakra; once this chakra is open, it allows energy to descend into the lower chakras. As it stresses on the use of the eyes, this method is also called netra yoga.