Encounters

Students Remember Swami Prakashananda

Dean Das, Forensic Psychologist

The year was 1975.

Following a four and one half hour climb up dry creek beds, ‘we’ (my girl- friend and I), reached the top of Sapta Shringi mountain. It was nightfall. At the foot of the 300 steps leading up to the Devi Temple, was a cluster of small bluestone buildings built on the outskirts of an impoverished village. This was the mountain ashram of the Siddha, Swami Prakashananda Saraswati.

We entered the small doorway into the darkened ashram temple. No electricity here! The room was lit by a single hurricane lamp. An elderly, stubble-faced man stood before me. His opening words were, ‘how long you want to stay?’ I answered, ‘I don’t know Baba. I just got here’. He replied, ‘You stay life-time’. He abruptly left the room. I stayed for around 7 years.

The blue-stone ashram accommodated 60 or so children from surrounding districts, aged between 5 years and 14 years, and a school teacher. Babaji had built a school adjoining the ashram. In addition, three times a day, up to 60 village children were fed within the ashram precincts by the three or four resident swamis, assisted by adivasi (‘Jungle caste’) people from the village.

Siddhas don’t ‘teach’ in a conventional sense. Their ‘teaching’ is experiential in nature, and is transmitted through the presence of their being. Babaji’s sole instruction to me was ‘be with me all the time’ (in a physical sense). ‘You don’t need to meditate when you are with me’.

He became the object of my ‘meditation’ whilst he laughed, told stories, and joked with visitors, interrupted only by the urgency of ridding himself of the large wad of chewing tobacco causing causing excessive salivation.

To increase my physical proximity to him, Babaji arranged that I sleep on the verandah surrounding his room. At bed time, leaning through the window, he would joke, ‘Dean Das, nirvikalpa samadhi (‘meditative absorption free of thought’), me, nidra samadhi (‘absorption in the ordinary state of sleep’)’ - - releasing a series of ‘ahh - grrh’ guttural sounds in imitation of loud snoring.

Over a period of months, I could not tolerate being in his physical presence. His body was like an electrical ‘power station’, transmitting hot electrical currents that entered my body. The ‘internal heat’ became unbearable!

I tried to escape, but as soon as it was noticed, someone was sent to fetch me. Bolts of vital energy (‘kundalini shakti’) crept, leaped, shimmied, and radiated through every pore of my body. Columns of golden-hued light flowed up and down the spine, causing the mind to swoon, it entering a state of ecstatic bliss (‘samadhi’).

An hour or so later, I returned to partial body awareness, to find myself sitting in the middle of the hall, my head resting upon Babaji’s wet feet, dampened by the flow of ‘tears of joy’. Babaji lightly placed his hand upon the top of my head, and ‘a soothing cool’ entered my over-heated body.

A Siddha Guru awakens a person’s latent ‘spiritual energy’ (‘kundalini shakti’) through the medium of touch, word, look, or thought. Siddhas have the full array of siddhis (‘psychic powers’) at their disposal.

To the casual observer, Swami Prakashananda was a loving, humorous, unpretentious, elderly man. And, indeed, he was truly that.

But to me, he was a loving father, and at the same time, the embodiment of Pure Consciousness Itself.

Peter R. Heisler, Stockbroker

‘Spending time with Babaji was very special. Just to be in his presence was to receive the highest teachings and blessing. All my cares and worries naturally dissolved in Babaji's presence and were replaced with a spontaneous joy, lightness, and contentment. It was as if there were a divine protection that made everything right so how could I possibly be concerned or worried about my often petty concerns.

Babaji was a selfless being who tirelessly gave and gave to those with whom he came in contact. He was like the cosmic being who took on various roles depending on the situation to serve those around him. Sometimes I witnessed him as the stern father, the guru, who needed to bring order and discipline to the situation. Other times he was the Divine Mother, tending with great care and attention to all the needs and concerns of those at hand. Other times he was the Divine Child, innocently playful and mischievous.

Whatever the role, to be in his presence was to be drawn into his state, the state of Divine Love where time ceases and there is only the spreading out and sharing of this love to everyone.

I remember traveling with Babaji to attend a wedding ceremony in Yeola. I was alone with him in the back seat of the taxi. At several little towns we passed on the way, we stopped and people spontaneously flocked to have his Darshan. Baba freely distributed sweets to all he met, giving ceaselessly and tirelessly from morning to night. I was struck by the fact that although I was a young, healthy man, I was exhausted that night having just gone along for the ride, whereas Babaji was fresh and still giving of himself as if he were tireless, as long as he could be of service to others.

Near the end of his life, Babaji was experiencing some health problems himself and yet still he made himself available, sharing his love and concern for others. It seemed like it should have been the other way around, with us caring for him and tending to his needs, but although we tried, it really was only Babaji taking care of us.

I remember my final darshan with him in Nasik. It was the winter just before he passed on and I had made a short visit to India. Babaji was his cheerful self inquiring about each of us. I could see that he was not well but he went out of his way to spend more time with us knowing we had made such a long journey. As my visit neared its conclusion, I felt happy and recharged under the umbrella of Babaji's love. When it was time to go, I prepared for my departure darshan and as usual, went to meet Babaji in the front room which served as the satsang hall for all of us.  However, this time Babaji departed from his normal procedure and instead called me back to his bedroom, especially charged with shakti, that was his private quarters (which he rarely shared with others). I was surprised and overjoyed at this great blessing. As I went to "pranam" at his feet, as I always used to do when leaving, again Babaji departed from the normal proceedings by not allowing me to "pranam" as usual, but instead looking me right in the eye, he gave me a full embrace. Once again, I felt thrilled by this unexpected turn of events and blessings. I knew there was something special about this moment, and yet I did not know why. Then Babaji looked at me again and said, “Just remember, whatever happens Babaji will always be in your heart.” Then I got it, I understood the significance of this special parting. Babaji was telling me in his own way that this was the last time we would meet each other in this way. I suddenly realized that Babaji knew that he would leave his body soon and this was our final good-by. Tears rushed to my eyes and I started sobbing. Babaji only smiled with compassion. This is how I will always remember him, and yes, he is in all of our hearts. Just to remember him there is to be inspired to something greater in each one of us. What can I say but 'Thank you, thank you, thank you, for the great fortune to have met you and spent time with you, Babaji!

Govinda Gene Gauggel, Psychotherapist

‘When I first arrived in Ganeshpuri, India, in 1976, I began to wonder who was a model of the ideal disciple of our Sadguru, Swami Muktananda. I found Swami Prakashananda very soon. Here was a simple, humble man whose devotion to truth and high ethics was incomparable to any others I met or watched in the presence of our guru.

I visited him often while he stayed in a room at the Ganeshpuri ashram (in Turiya Mandir). I loved his stories and kind attentiveness to each and every person who approached him. I also wondered if he had any special powers or anything that might set him apart from the rest of we ordinary humans. As I watched him over the next eight years, I could not see any quality that would set him above anyone else. I saw him express mostly love and simplicity and a conviction that God or Bhagavati (Divine Mother) was the only true Principle in operation in the universe and that we people were Her Children and that She did everything that we do nothing. In that way he avoided assuming that he acted from any individual will. He became a living example of this, and I held him as my role model.

Once while sitting with him I told him I was in physical pain - that my whole nervous system felt painful. He responded by asking me if it was vibrations. I thought he had misunderstood (something had been lost in the translation to or from him), so I repeated myself. He asked me again, “Is it vibrations?” I sat quietly as I looked inside my body to explore my sensations as possibly being vibrations. After about twenty minutes I had no more pain. Instead of pain I began experiencing a new world of energy inside me.

He was sensitive to me and could respond to my heart. Once I had been trying to get some clarity on a personal problem and decided to visit him in order to (hopefully) get his guidance. I had to travel by bus to reach his place in Nasik Road. When I arrived he was sitting on his lawn chair on the left side of a rectangular room, next to an elaborate altar featuring icons of the Divine Mother and Baba Muktananda (and his Guru Bhagavan Nityananda). It was so colourful and attractive to the eye and warming to the heart.

After an affectionate welcome—“Ayi, ayi, Jai Jagadamba Mata Ki Jay” (Come in, come in. Victory to the Divine Mother)—he began a story. It must have been about an hour later that I realized he had addressed my concern by way of the story, and my mind was clear and happy.

I often felt that I was home in his presence, that I was complete and lacked nothing. As a small child benefits by hearing a story from his grandfather, I felt nourished and loved. I wondered what benefits could come from spending so much time listening to almost endless stories in this intimate way. I didn't think I could possibly remember most of them, to repeat to others or to distill some esoteric meaning. However, I felt something happening deep inside me as he brought his stories to life. Sometimes, lightly and humorously, he would use our names as if we were among the cast of characters! I left India feeling greatly enriched.

Later, when I returned to the U.S., I became interested in hypnotherapy, which involves the use of metaphors and short stories to activate various resources within a client or to illustrate an idea. This work could facilitate a realignment and reorganization of life experiences so that the person could function in life with more integrity. Learning this came naturally to me, having lived with Babaji over a period of eight years in India. I also became aware of many unseen forces operating within me, perhaps various aspects of my personality similar to some of the characters in Babaji's stories.

He used to call me “Maharaj” (great king). He would look at me and ask "Kya ji, Maharaj," as if to ask me how I was or what was on my mind. I would usually respond, “I'm okay," while actually I was worried about something. Now I look back and think how great it would have been to tell him I was confused and worried, and to take advantage of his grace, perhaps to lighten my emotional burden.

One Christmas morning at Ganeshpuri ashram, my ex-wife and I felt a pull to go to Bombay to be with "Santa Claus.” At that time Babaji was staying with a devotee to rest and to visit. So we quickly gathered our things and took the next bus to Bombay where we showed up unannounced at Mr. Daria’s apartment on Malabar Hill. Sure enough Babaji was there and welcomed us with tears, saying, “You've come, you've come. Since early this morning I kept seeing your faces in my meditation. Your love is great. Now you are here. When we think of something and it comes to pass, we know it is God's will. Your love is so great." With folded hands and tears down his cheeks he looked at us with deep affection. We were speechless and very moved as we felt the sincerity of his pure heart.

Babaij was always careful to live close to his high standards of ethics. Once, several of we Westerners travelled along with him to a village near Chalisgaon. After Babaji gave darshan to many devotees, we were shown a building where we would spend the night. He had requested the men sleep outside while he and the women were to sleep inside. I got very agitated about this arrangement because my fiancee was to stay inside with him.

Soon someone came out to call me in at Babaji's request. I quickly rose and went in where I saw the women preparing their bedding on mats on the floor, while he was getting ready to sleep on his bed on one side of the room. I felt very relieved and returned to my place outside. He had been sensitive to me yet again.

Another time, my fiancee and I stopped by to see him during an ashram festival, probably Shivaratri, at his room in Turiya Mandir. We had been wondering about the impact of our getting married upon our sadhana (spiritual practices). We wanted to get his guidance on this. We were welcomed into his room as he was arranging some things in preparation for his departure the next morning. Apparently some devotees had given him packages of sev and gathiya (snacks made of chick pea flour). He placed a small square of newspaper before my fiancee and another one before me and another before himself, as we sat on the floor together.

He then took small handfuls of sev from each of several packets he had and distributed it between the three squares of newspaper. He kept taking a little from each packet and sharing it equally among the three squares until it was all distributed. As he put each handful on the paper, I felt that we were all intimately connected and that there was nothing to fear in whatever we did. It was as if he were spreading his grace among us in a ritualistic way.

As he had said so many times, "Whatever you do, you have my full blessing." After he finished this, he asked us, "Now what service can I do for you?” Nothing need be said since we felt our concern was resolved. So we said, “You have already done it.”

Tom Stiles, Yoga Teacher

In the spring of 1982 I was at Ganeshpuri for what was to be Baba Praksahananda's final birthday celebration. After eight years as a dent of the meditation master, I was ready for a new point of view. wat Swami Prakashananda when Baba extended to him the rare civilege of holding Darshan for devotees. This was extremely nusual and an indication that Baba held Prakashananda to be at a high level of spiritual attainment. After Babaji's delightful storytelling and humble sharing of himself, he came out of the hall to give prasad and personal blessings. He nonchalantly sat down beside me on the couch in the adjacent hallway. He had a lapful of sugar candy which he took great delight in giving away. His ease and comfort with himself greatly appealed to me. Here was a person with whom I could be myself.

Shortly after the celebrations Gabriel Cousens and I decided to go off on a spiritual pilgrimage to several sites in the area terminating with a visit to Babaji. Upon arriving I found myself riveted, watching him. There was such love in his every movement, such a depth of peace and yet a simplicity of love he shared with us. At this time my meditation had lost its impact. I felt dry inside. I simply went through the motions of sitting and chanting and opening my heart with no result. My mind would not change states. I experienced no change in myself. I could not get inside my heart to any emotional experience. I had left Zen Buddhist meditations many years earlier for the same reasons.

I wanted to find my spiritual heart and a teacher with a spiritual heart.

This was a central theme for me - I needed to find a way to the vastness of the spiritual realms I sensed lay within the Heart. Yet here I was after five years of a heartfelt practice without peace of mind or the feelings of connectedness that had characterized my earlier meditations.

Babaji's state was in a great contrast to my own. I asked Babaji for his blessings and help in meditation. He listened attentively to my story and ended by sugesting that we both go to Trymbakeshwar. He said - would be good for my meditation.

Trimbakeshwar is an ancient holy site, the headwaters, the headwaters of the Godavari River that flows nearly the width of India from west to east. It is also the samadhi site of several saints and a region surrrounded by caves of yogis dug out of the cliffs near the headwaters.  Gabriel and I went by taxi there and were drawn immediately to the central towering temple known as one of twelve special jyotilingams. These are temples that have an invisible lingam (male phallic symbol) arising as a pillar of light from the spring of a yoni (female genital) stone. In this case the central sanctum sanctorum was a place in which a milk white water flowed from the yoni. I found myself soon contemplating this jyotilingam as we made our way to the central space under the high dome of the temple. The floor was carved with an enormous turtle. We sat there as I deepened my contemplation of what is the nature of the jyotilingam? I felt Prakashananda's presence deeply embedded within me respond. There was a sense that he was answering my questions and also blessing me with a vision of the nature of the lingam. I felt his presence opening my chest as if there were a shirt there. As the two sides of my chest split I saw the head of Shiva as my own chest. My own head became the many heads of a cobra showering a protective grace-filled light onto the Shiva that was my chest. Then I experienced an incredible ecstasy of light filling my body showering me from the inside. The lingam of my body became a wand of light. The brilliance of that light was like an arc welder, intense to look at yet captivating and not overpowering. I a tremendous wave of bliss flood my being and hot tears traced way down my face. My Heart, like a dam, had burst and overflowed through my eyes. I had found the Heart I had been looking for all those many years. I felt all this as a direct result of being with bal The whole experience of having a Heart overflowing with gr experienced as a blessing from him.

Upon returning to Nasik Road I found that my previously dry state of meditation completely changed and I found myself once again spiritually alive. Just being in Babaji's presence was a blessing me. I found that watching him or just simply being with him gave me great peace. He was truly a person that put me at tremendous ease. Yet I found myself thinking that this is such a simple thing and yet it is also quite profound. I kept finding myself asking-Who is he? What is he all about?

One night while massaging his legs he allowed me to continue and do his whole body. When I got to his belly this question began to burn inside my mind. Who is he? Who am I? While holding these questions inside myself, I gently pushed on his belly. The answer came that his body was like a water bed. When I pushed on one side a ripple would go effortlessly through his entire body and then ripple back to me with the same force. I asked myself, What is he made of? What is this body? I closed my eyes and I saw a beautiful effulgent blue like the ocean shimmering in the morning light. As I continued to look the blue spread to the horizon and beyond to encompass the sky, I could not distinguish air from water. All elements of his body and of my perception were the same glimmering blue. I had an image of a million tiny lights within the blue field all shining continuously. My eyes began to water with warm tears of joy and great love as I felt his belly. Then I opened my eyes and looked at his body and he simply smiled at me. One of those all knowing smiles that allowed me to just be my Self. Just enjoying the joy that was his body while serving him through the act of giving a massage. There was no feeling of him giving me energy or vice versa. There was a natural acceptance of each other's role in life in this moment just being together. In that moment there was a grace that has never left me, a memory that continues to live on and on, vividly, as a connection to my spiritual Heart.

Pierre Pulling, Carpenter

A simply garbed sadhu entered the temple and turned toward the shrine. Many of the Indians inside stood up and took turns bowing before this unassuming monk, pressing their fingers and foreheads upon his sturdy feet. As a result, he could not proceed forward. Yet the swami did not lose his focus of offering his respects to the deity of the temple as he folded his hands before his heart to honor each person who blocked his path. Someone whispered to me, 'He is an enlightened being.'

I had met Swami Prakashananda! Never had I seen patience and dignity expressed so naturally and so warmly. Graciousness of this breadth and depth seemed light years removed from my own experiences and expectations of who I might become. Little did 1 imagine that some day this humble man would also draw my tired heart before him in order to offer me that 'water of eternal life drinking which one never thirsts again.'

Ten years later I had an opportunity to spend time in India with Swami Prakashananda. Swamiji welcomed me with a hearty “Amba Mata Ki Jaya! Sadgurunath Maharaj Ki Jaya!” (Victory to the Divine Mother! Victory to the true guru, Lord and great king!) He inquired affectionately about my family and I relaxed in his satsang room as he greeted other visitors with the same two phrases. How glad of heart we were to hear that friendly greeting resounding with the surety of deep experience.

It is eight years now, since we were privileged to see his face or write him a letter. Yet the fullness of his voice still booms in my ear and memories: a joy which conquers the boundaries of mind, time, and place. His words still ring more vividly than the noise of traffic on the streets outside: “You take everything you want from the earth, your Mother. Then you trample her, pollute her, and defecate upon her. How does she respond? In return, she forgives you; she sends up lush vegetation to feed, nourish, and clothe you. She mends your desecrations with verdant aromatic growth. She longs to rifo vour life. She always wishes for you the best of creation and the warmth of love and tenderness. These qualities are the foundain of all hearts but are especially given to women.”

Again and again Swami Prakashananda would gently remind me to see life with a greater awareness of the Mother. “In India we always say the woman's name first, even among the gods: “Sita-Ram, Radhe-Shyam, Lakshmi-Narayan, Uma-Maheshwar.' Why? Why is the husband secondary? Because mankind will never attain happiness and peace if we neglect to honor and cherish women.”

It has taken me time to imbibe these words, for the contrary tendencies to 'pillage and lay waste' seem deeply rooted in the psyche. But the words of a guru have mysterious power. Many years later they continue to act both in the subconscious mind and outside: creating coincidental' opportunities for growth and changes. At the time, however, I had no concern for future results. My only interest was to remain absorbed in those amazing graces which unfolded before the mischievous smiles of our ‘agaram bagaram baba.' Somehow in his presence my limitations were not inadequacies-quite in contrast to life out in the world.

We were a motley bunch gathering around our swami in those days, from many countries and backgrounds. The fact of Babaji's failing health urged me to make the journey and to return again the following years, despite the many difficulties of so much travel. What kind destiny brought me to sit in the cocoon of his parlor, softly overwhelmed by waves of his tender care? I was, at best, a second-rate actor in the great puppet show of life. What prayers or kindness had I ever done to deserve such good fortune? But did I have any inkling that these sacred gifts would soon become my challenges?

This story of a man who belonged utterly to the Mother became a song of gladness in the lives of those who met him. He brought Her love and laughter into many, many hearts with an ease and a surety that has, in my case, given life a freshness and preciousness which was missing before.

Thanks to this book the priceless gifts of compassion flowing through our 'agaram bagaram baba' can continue to roll on. embracing and refreshing many lives. This is the story of a man who belongs so completely to the Divine Mother that he easily brought Her love and laughter into many hearts. Now many more will be refreshed with Swami Prakashananda's warm welcome: “Amba Mata ki jaya! Sadgurunath maharaj ki jaya!"

Marjorie

Being raised in this lifetime as a "Jewish American Princess” and made to feel special, had been a difficult part to play. Underneath that part were insecurities and no clue of who I was and what the meaning of living was all about.

My first experience of Babaji was in Ganeshpuri, India at Swami Muktananda's ashram in May 1982. Babaji would meet people and tell folklore stories that conveyed deep meaning. These stories addressed issues that we all needed to take a look at in our lives. I remember sitting there in awe of his joy, his sincerity, and his love. At last my heart was in a safe place and I felt it burst open and I wept. I found that I wanted to sit with him at every free moment and so when it was time for Babaji to return to his home in Nasik, I requested to come and stay with him. He consented and over the next five years I spent a total of two and a half years with him.

Swami Prakashananda showed me that it was possible to live in the world, keep to a spiritual mood of unconditional love, service, and surrender to the Divine Mother's will, under any circumstance and situation that arose. Babaji was an example of a whole human being living his everyday life.

Observing the day to day life around him, it seemed as if there were nothing extraordinary going on. Babaji met with many people on a daily basis who came to him with all sorts of concerns and issues.

The discussions throughout the day ranged from politics to relationships, from advice on business to food recipes, from deep spiritual knowledge to the weather or health issues. Love permeated me atmosphere around him and contact with him brought peace of mind and uplifted the heart. I have never met anyone who had such complete patience, integrity, and unconditional love.

My experience of living with Swami Prakashananda was of the unitive experience of God occurring in everyday life. There were so many subtle experiences and unfoldings that occurred during my time spent with him that it is hard to describe. This process is still unfolding as I write at this moment!

The most important teachings that I came away with are that I am a lovable human being and that the answers to my questions and the key to my search for peace are right within my own being. Babaji allowed me to empower myself. He constantly showered me with love, patience, wisdom, and spiritual energy. I could not take as much as he gave, but I took what I was capable of holding and, as I mentioned, it keeps unfolding. Life is an ongoing exciting process. Babaji healed me through love and I feel that love is the greatest healer of all.