Sardar Puran Singh
(Sardar Puran Singh, who went to Japan for higher
studies, met Swami Rama in Tokyo in September 1902
and fell spontaneously in love with him. Such was the
intense love and devotion of Puran to Rama that after a
few months of departure of Rama from Japan to U.S.A.,
he took up „Sannyas‟ to tread the path of Vedanta as
shown by Rama.
Born on 16 January 1881 in a small village of the
erstwhile Frontier Province (a part of Pakistan now),
Puran studied Chemistry for three years in the Tokyo
University and was also the secretary of the
Indo-Japanese Club. On his return to India, Puran was
pressurised by his parents to give up „Sannyas‟ and enter
into the marital bond. Sardar Puran Singh served as a
Chemical Adviser in the Imperial Forest Institute,
Dehradun, but he is better known for his facile pen.
Besides being the editor of the „Thundering Dawn‟ he
wrote many books in English, including the Story of
Swami Rama Tirtha, the Sister of Spinning Wheel, The
Unstrung Buds, At his feet, An afternoon with Self.
Much credit goes to Puran in the shaping of „In Woods of
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41
God-Realization‟. He has carved out his place in the
Hindi literature also by writing only five known articles
„Nayanon Ki Bhasha‟, „Pavitrata‟, „Acharan Ki
Sabhyata‟, „Majdoori Aur Prem‟, „Sachchi Virata‟. He
left the mortal body on 31 March 1931.)
These volumes are presented to the public in the
name and memory of Swami Rama. In these
volumes it is proposed to bring together all his
writings and speeches. A short collection of his
articles and essays published in his lifetime has
already been reprinted and put before the public in
nice form by Messrs. Ganesh and Co., Publishers,
Madras. Besides these his other manuscripts,
mostly the lecture-notes of his American speeches,
taken down by some American friends, were found
in his box when he left us for ever. Excepting the
articles referred to above, that were published in
his life-time and which also have been included in
the present collection, all other lectures have not
had the advantage of his revision.
So much that he might have eliminated is still there
and so much more that he might have added is
absent. He had intended to thoroughly recast, in
fact to write anew all the valuable portions of the
subject-matter of these manuscripts, with much
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42
more that was in his mind, into a systematic
exposition of his teachings, a work that must have
been a fresh and novel contribution on the
philosophy of Vedanta advancing the latter
systematically as the individual and social religion
of the coming generations. But his work remained
unfulfilled mainly for two reasons, first because
about two years before his Samadhi, he seriously
and earnestly undertook a thorough and complete
study of the Vedas in original as preparation for his
proposed work, and thus, I think the time which he
could have perhaps more profitably devoted to the
systematisation of his own writings was spent in
the efforts of making his final work grand and
monumental in every way; secondly, living in his
beloved solitude of the Himalayas, out of touch
with people whose hopes and aspirations might
have stimulated his intellect to work for their
fulfilment, his mind soared higher and higher till it
lost its foot-hold by his daily increasing absorption
in the Infinite. When the writer was for the last time
with him, he kept silent for most of the time. He
had ceased taking interest in reading and writing.
When questioned, he would expound to us the
secrets of his state of consciousness, this supreme
silence he called then by the name of Death-in-Life.
He would tell us, the more one dies in Life, the
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greater is the good that naturally and
spontaneously comes out of such a man for the
benefit of others. “Rama may not seem to finish the
task in hand, but Rama knows it will sometime be
done all the better when he is gone. The ideas that
saturate Rama‟s mind and have guided Rama‟s life,
will gradually in the fullness of time filter down to
society and can work their destiny properly when
Rama loses himself now in the Divine, foregoing all
plans, wishes and aims.”
He had taken to this idea so ardently that no
entreaties could prevail upon him to commence
writing his work.
Thus, though deprived of the systematic exposition
of his teachings by himself, it is a matter of
consolation that we still have with us some of the
subject-matter of his thought, however scattered
and fragmentary it may be. It has, therefore, been
decided, not without some hesitation, that this
subject-matter of his thought and the reflections of
his consciousness in his extempore speeches, with
his essays and note-books, should be put before the
public in a printed form, almost in the same form as
he left them. Those that have met Rama personally
will recognize him in many and perhaps all of the
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speeches and will feel as if they were still listening
to his wonderfully eloquent character. They will
feel enchanted once again by the spell of his
personality supplementing as they would all that
may be lacking in the printed form by the
affectionate and reverent associations of him in
their minds. Those that have had no occasion to see
him will be able to realize the state of that
supremely blissful consciousness which is at the
back of these utterances and gives them their charm
and meaning, provided they may have the patience
to read them through. They may not be able to
follow him in some of his ideas at one place but at
another place they will find those ideas expressed
much more clearly and with greater force. Men of
different shades of opinion and thought, on reading
through these pages, will find ample food for their
thought and spirit, and much that they will surely
recognize to be their own. In these volumes, he
appears before us by no means as a literary man
and has no desire to be judged as an author, but he
comes before us with the majesty of a teacher of the
spiritual laws of life. One great feature of his
speeches is that he speaks to us directly from his
heart and never endeavours to give us a
lecture-room demonstration of Vedantic doctrines,
not because he was unable to do so—for those who
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know him, know him to be the master of the subject
he is handling but because he is trying to lay before
us only those ideas which he practically carried into
his own life and which, he thinks, would, if
followed by others, guide, as they did in his case,
the life of man to the pinnacle of glory, of happiness
and success. He, therefore, does not lay before us
the intellectual side of his mind, but tries to give us
some of his own experiences and speaks out clearly
with an inspired enthusiasm of the effects that
certain thoughts produce on life when carried into
actual practice. As such these speeches are only
aids and suggestions to the realization of Truth that
he believed in, rather than the philosophical and
closely reasoned expositions of that Truth. Are we
not already sick of works overloaded with intellect?
It is indeed refreshing to see a masterly mind
coming home to us in simpler and clearer and
commoner accents of life. Instead of an argument,
Swami Rama gives us a story, believing that the
actual life of a man sympathises more with the life
of another and weighs it more than all the abstract
architecture of mental reasoning. There is that
airiness and freedom in his expression which
characterises the speech of a poet only.
Poet-philosopher as he was, the suggestiveness of
thought and speech is marvellous, pointing as it
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does to Infinity. He is the philosopher of that deep
music of life which is audible to those only who go
deep enough.
A few lines may be appropriately devoted here to
give an idea of what Rama was in himself and to us.
Born in an ordinary Brahman family in the Punjab,
(now in Pakistan) he was the patient architect of
himself from childhood to manhood. He built
himself little by little, moment by moment, and day
by day. It may be said that perhaps the whole
career of his future life was sketched already before
his mind‟s eye, because even as a boy he was
working so gravely, so silently and so consciously
for a definite mission. There was the resolution of a
riper mind in the steps of the poor Brahman boy
who faltered not under any circumstances, and
who was never daunted by any difficulties. Under
that extremely humble and winsome appearance,
touched with resignation and purity almost like
that of a shy and modest maid, there was concealed
in this thin frame of the Brahman boy an iron will
which nothing could sake. He was a typical student
who loved to study not with any hope of gaining
worldly ends, but for satisfying the ever-growing
thirst for knowledge which was firing his soul
anew with every new Sun. His daily studies were
sanctified oblations on the altar of this havan kund.
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He would forego an extra suit to himself, and an
extra loaf or even a day‟s meal for the sake of oil for
his midnight lamp to read his books. It was not
unoften in his student life that he kept absorbed in
his studies from sunset to sunrise. There was that
love of knowledge which pulled strongly at his
heart so much that the ordinary comforts and
physical needs of a student life were entirely
forgotten. Hunger and thirst, cold and heat, could
not tell upon his supreme passion that he felt
towards knowledge. There are witnesses of his
student life still living at Gujranwala and Lahore,
(Pakistan) who say that the pure-minded Goswami
toiled unarmed and alone day and night, fighting
with life without the sinews of war, and they
remember the occasions when even in this country
of boasted charity, the poor Brahman boy had for
many a day little or nothing to eat, though every
muscle of his face always exhibited an ineffable joy
and satisfaction.
The knowledge, therefore, that Swami Rama brings
to bear upon his teachings in after-life was gathered
grain by grain with the greatest penance and
hardest labour and is full of intense pathos for us,
remembering as we do the extreme penury and
thorny life in which he managed to bloom up as a
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poet, philosopher, scholar and mathematician.
When the Principal of the Government College,
Lahore, offered to send up his name for the
Provincial Civil Service, Rama expressed himself
with a bent head and a moist eye that he had not
toiled so much for selling his harvest but for
distributing it. He would, therefore, prefer being a
teacher to being an executive official.
A student so absorbed and so amorously fond of
knowledge naturally grows into a pure and sincere
man.
Enjoying perfect intellectual isolation from his
surroundings even as a student, Rama lived by
himself keeping company only with the greatest of
men through their books. He looked neither to the
right nor to the left being wholly absorbed in his
own high pursuits. He set his life early in tune with
his ideals. All who knew him in his student days
reverently acknowledged the transparent purity of
his character and the high moral purpose of his life.
In his student life Swami Rama was growing
inwardly. He was melting and casting and melting
and casting his life again and again into moulds of
perfection. He went on chiselling day and night to
shape out the curve lines of his model and to finish
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its beauty. From good to better, he stood daily
self-surpassed. When he became a professor of
Mathematics, the very first pamphlet he wrote was
“How to study Mathematics.” The lesson he teaches
there is that overloading the stomach with greasy
and rich stuffs makes even an intelligent student
unfit and dull, while on the other hand light food
always gives free and uncongested brain which
forms the secret of a successful student life. He says
purity of mind is another essential condition for
securing proper attention to work, and devoid of
this one element no method would be able to keep
the mind in the proper mood of a student. Thus he
condenses the experiences of his student life in such
simple pieces of advice as we find in the said
pamphlet.
He does not write for writing‟s sake, nor speak for
speaking‟s sake, but he takes his pen or opens his
lips only when he has something to give. “I try hard
for gathering facts, but when they are mine, I stand
on a rock proclaiming my message of Truth for all
time.” The pieces of advice referred to above are
mentioned here to indicate his method of getting at
a lesson and then of teaching it. He would observe
the effects of things and thoughts on himself and
then form his independent and unbiased opinions,
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which he would put to crucial tests for years in his
own life before taking them to be true or otherwise
for himself, and he would take still longer time for
maturing them before working them out for others.
As said above, he had made up his mind not to
open his lips and pose as a teacher before he had
mastered as a student and disciple for himself the
lessons that he had to teach. This is one of the secret
keys to his character. Swami Rama, whether as a
student or as a professor, had always been secretly
toiling for a higher knowledge than that of
Literature and Science and patiently building up
his convictions and thoughts on the higher laws of
life exactly after the manner of Darwin, before he
went out as a Swami to proclaim his Truth in the
world. We always find him working with the
solemn consciousness of a great moral
responsibility of his life to mankind. This toiling for
the higher knowledge of Self has, therefore, been all
the more arduous and keener struggle, considering
that he was fully weighing in his mind the
responsibility of his mission of life to accomplish
which he knew he had to leave the chair in the
college for a platform from where his words would
be addressed to the whole of humanity and to
posterity. He slowly and resolutely began floating
his life on the divine bosom, on the wings of Love
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and Faith, and daily winged higher and higher till
he was lost in the Infinite, the Brahma, God, or as he
called it, the Atmadeva. The history of the yearnings
of his soul, spiritual privations, emotional
difficulties and mental miseries is hidden from our
eyes. But it is the harvest of the hard-earned
experiences of this part of his life that we find in his
teachings as a Swami. Many a night he wept and
wept and his godly wife alone saw his bed-sheet
literally drenched in his tears in the morning. What
ailed him? What made him so sorrowful? Whatever
it be, it is these tears of that intense spiritual
yearning of his soul for the highest love which
fertilizes his thoughts. On the banks of rivers, in the
dark solitudes of forests, he passed many a
sleepless night in watching the shifting scenes of
nature and in contemplation of the Atman,
sometimes chanting songs of his own composition
in the dolorous tone of a love-lorn bird separated
from his mate, and at others, fainting away in the
intensity of his devotion divine, and reviving
bathed in the holy waters of the Ganga of his eyes.
His moods of love shall for ever remain private, for
he has chosen to keep his own personal life hidden
from us and none knows except himself the details
of the development of his consciousness. But he
was undoubtedly in the company of a galaxy of
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saints and prophets and poets before he came to be
a poet and an apostle himself. He was a constant
companion of the Sufis of Persia, notably of Hafiz,
Attar, Maulana Room and Shamstabrez. The saints
of India with centuries of their religious culture
informed his spirit. Tulsi Das and Sur Das were
undoubtedly his inspirers. The love-ecstasy of
Chaitanya, the sweetness of Tuka Ram and Nanak,
the meditations of Kabir and Farid, of Hasan and
Boo Ali Kalandar, the faith of Prahlad and Dhruva,
the intense spirituality of Mira Bai, Bullashah and
Gopal Singh, the mystery of Krishna, the
consciousness of Shiva and Shankar, the thoughts
of Emerson, Kant, Goethe and Carlyle, the free
chants of Walt Whitman and Thoreau of the West
reacting on the Vedantic Maya of the East, the
scientific candour and truthfulness of Clifford,
Huxley and Tyndal, of Mill, Darwin and Spencer
reacting upon the superstitious theologies and
religious dogmas of both the East and the West,
liberalising the human heart and emancipating the
human mind from centuries of mental slavery, all
these and many more influences individually and
collectively went to idealise his mind. As a Swami,
we see him always living in the divine, and we do
not recognize in him the humble and shy student
boy that he was. His voice has grown powerful, his
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character eloquent, his realization inspiring and his
flesh magnetic over and over. His presence
charmed the very atmosphere around him. In his
company, the seasons of one‟s mind shifted in a
beautiful panoramic rotation. Now the spell of his
sincerity moved the audience to tears and then to
smiles of supreme satisfaction. He succeeded like a
poet to exalt in our eyes the commonest things into
the highest Avataras of Divinity. Some people by his
touch got tastes of a poet, others of a painter, some
of a mystic and some of a soldier. Many common
minds felt inspired to such an extent that they felt a
distinct increase in their mental power. One of his
American friends addressed the writer the
following letter on his death. It describes him
literally as he was to all of us, and may, therefore,
be appropriately quoted here.
“Words fail me when I attempt to express what is so
difficult to make apparent in the cold narrow
words of language.
Rama‟s language was that of the sweet innocent
child, the birds, the flowers, the flowing streams,
the waving tree branches, that of the Sun, Moon
and stars: His was the language running under the
outer shows of the world and of people.
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Under the oceans, continents, under the fields and
the roots of the grasses and trees, his life passed
deep into nature, nay, was the very life of nature.
His language penetrated far under the little
thoughts and dreams of men. How few are the ears
which hear that wondrous melody. He heard it,
lived it, breathed it, taught it, and his whole soul
was imbued with it. He was the messenger full of
joy.
O freed soul! Soul that has completed its relation to
the body! O soaring, happy beyond words, into
other worlds passing, salutations to you, freed,
redeemed Soul”
* * *
He was so gentle, unaffected, childlike, pure and
noble, sincere, earnest and unassuming that all who
came in contact with him, with a heart yearning for
the truth, could not but receive inestimable benefit.
After each lecture or class-lesson, questions were
put which were always answered so clearly and
concisely, sweetly and lovingly. He was ever filled
with bliss and peace and was constantly humming
OM, when not employed in talking, writing or
reading. He saw Divinity in each and all, and
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everyone was addressed by him as „Blessed
Divinity.‟
* * *
Rama was a continual bubbling spring of
happiness. In God he lived, moved and had his
being—nay he was the very Self of God. He once
wrote to me, “Those who have a mind to enjoy can
enjoy the diamonds shining in the brilliant starlit
skies, can derive abundance of pleasure from the
smiling forest and dancing rivers, can reap
inexhaustible joy from the cool breeze, warm
sunshine and balmy moonlights, freely placed at
the service of each and all by nature. Those who
believe their happiness depends upon particular
conditions will find the day of enjoyment ever
recede from them and run away constantly like
will-o‟-the-wisp. The so-called health of the world
instead of being a source of happiness only serves
as an artificial screen to shut out the glory and
aroma of all nature, heavens and free scenery.”
Rama lived in a tent on the hill-side and took his
meals at the Ranch house. It was a beautiful place,
rugged wild scenery, high mountains on either side
draped with evergreen trees and thick tangled
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under bush. The Sacramento River flowed
turbulently down this valley and here it was that
Rama read many, many books, wrote his sublime
poetry, and meditated for hours at a time. He sat on
a large boulder in the river where the current was
very strong day after day and week after week,
only coming to the house at meal times when he
always gave us beautiful talks. Numerous visitors
from Shasta Springs would come to see him and
they were always welcomed gladly. His sublime
thoughts left a deep and lasting impression on all.
Those who came out of curiosity went away with
their curiosity satisfied, and the seed of Truth
planted forever in their hearts, may be for time
being unconsciously to them but bound to sprout
and develop into a strong and sturdy tree whose
branches will twine together from all parts of the
earth in a bond of brotherhood and love divine.
Seeds of Truth always grow.
He took long walks. Thus he lived while there in
Shasta Springs a busy, simple, free and joyous life.
He was so happy. His laughter came spontaneously
and could be heard plainly at the house when he
was at the riverside. Free, free was he like a child
and a saint. He would remain in
God-consciousness for days together. His
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unflattering devotion to India and his desire to
raise her benighted people was indeed perfect
self-abnegation.
* * *
After I left there, I received a letter from him which,
I afterwards learnt, was written during a period of
severe illness. “The degree of concentration and
pure divine feeling is wonderfully high these days
and God-consciousness is possessing with a
marvellous sweep. As the body is subject to fickle
whims and constant change, Rama will never,
never, identify himself with this naughty
will-o‟-the-wisp. In sickness, concentration and
inner peace is supremely intense. He or she must be
a poor stingy miser whose close-fistedness grudges
to accord due hospitality to passing guests of
bodily ailment and the like.”
Always he would tell us to “feel, feel all the time
that the power supreme that manifests itself in the
Sun and the stars, the same, the same I am, the
same, the same is yourself. Take up this real Self,
this glory of thine, contemplate this Life eternal,
meditate on this your real beauty and forget clean
all thoughts of the little body and its ties as if you
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never had anything to do with these false, seeming
realities (nay, shadows). No death, no sickness, no
sorrow. Be perfectly happy, thoroughly blissful,
saturated with peace. Keep yourself thoroughly
collected above the body or little self.” Thus he
taught each and all.
What a brave, true, loyal and God-intoxicated soul
it is who ventures to a foreign country without
money on behalf of his country.
* * *
To think that it has been my privilege to have met
and conversed with and aided such a holy man as
Rama is wonderful. He was a child of Aurora and
emitted his music from sunrise still evening. It
mattered not to him what the clocks said or the
attitudes or labours of men. His elastic and
vigorous thoughts kept pace with the Sun and so
the day was the perpetual morning. “The millions
are awake enough for physical labour, but only one
in a hundred millions for a poetic and divine life,”
so says Thoreau. Rama was one of those rare souls
who occasionally visit this earth.
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“They say the Sun is but His photo,
They say that man is in His image.
They say He twinkles in the stars,
They say He smiles in fragrant flowers,
They say He sings in nightingales,
They say He breathes in cosmic air,
They say He weeps in raining clouds,
They say He sleeps in winter nights,
They say He runs in pratting streams,
They say He swings in rainbow arches,
In floods of light, they say, He marches.”
So Rama told us and it is so.
He may be said, spiritually speaking, to be a man of
only one idea. That great idea which runs as an
undercurrent in all his discourses is the
renunciation of body-consciousness or „ahankar‟
and the realization of Self to be the Self of the
universe. It is the realization of that higher life
where the local „I‟ is forgotten and the universe
grows to be the „I‟ of man. “All that thou seest, that
thou art.” Man is divine. The false ego is the cause
of all limitations. Eliminate it and the spirit of man
is the universal spirit pervading everywhere and
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everything. This higher life is to be realized, and
Rama sanctions all means by which it may be
attained. The bed of thorns or the bed of roses
whichever induces the state of realization in us is to
be blessed. Total self-abnegation is the essential
prelude to this realization, and it may be effected
by different individuals in different ways. Rama
does not at all insist upon the methods and peculiar
private associations of thought and belief which
may be requisite for the growth of an individual
but tries to lay before us the general outlines of his
main conclusions and sketches the methods which
were most helpful to him. The intellect, when it
questioned his ideal, was satisfied by him through
a systematic study of the monistic philosophy of
the East and the West, and was thus made to bow
before his Truth. He similarly referred all those
who came to discuss with him his philosophic
position to a systematic study of philosophy and
declined all controversy on the ground that not
through controversy but through real, earnest,
serious thought can Truth be discovered. When the
heart questioned his ideal, then he saturated the
former with the highest love through different
emotions and made it realize that all is one and love
never knows any twos. The heart was made to
emotionalise the intellect and the latter was made
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to intellectualise the former. Truth, however, stood
supreme in his consciousness and above both. This
process he not only adopted to agree with his own
head and heart but with those of others as well.
When any one differed from him intellectually, he
gave up the discussion for the love of him and thus
secured the agreement or oneness with him, an
agreement which to him symbolised truth and
which he would not sacrifice for anything. When
the heart of any man disagreed with him, he would
give up the regions of heart and meet the man in
the intellect. He was one with whom none could
disagree. If his thoughts did not appeal to you, then
his Purity and his Love did. Even without talking to
him you would feel that you could not help loving
him. All controversies were thus hushed in his
presence and I believe the writings of such a man
are open to no lower criticism for he means
essentially to agree with you and to be at one with
you. Whoever
you may be, he would readily concede what you
may yourself be thinking or asking him to concede
to you.
In conclusion, I wish to explain the meaning of the
word “Vedanta” that so often occurs in his writings.
With Swami Rama, the word Vedanta which he so
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lovingly uses is a comprehensive term. He does not
restrict its sense by applying it to any particular
system of philosophy or religion. He somehow fell
in love with this word and was always willing to
exchange the name but not the sense that he
attached to it. The mere name of rose mattered not
to this realist, only he would have the rose and its
perfume. In order to understand and appreciate his
teachings, we need not get into the labyrinthine
mazes of metaphysical subtleties, for Swami Rama,
as he walks along with us in the white, broad-day
light on the paths of life, takes us by surprise and
teaches us Vedanta in the aurora of the rising Sun,
in the blushes of the rose and in the dimples of the
pearly dew. As we walk along with him, the echoes
of his teachings we catch in the warblings of the
merry birds, in the liquid music of the falling rain,
and the life throbs of „both man, bird and beast.‟ In
the morning bloom of flowers opens his Bible. In
the evening sparkle of stars flashes his Veda. His
Alkoran is writ large in the living characters of
myriad-hued life.
Time and thought were my surveyors,
They laid their courses well,
They poured sea and baked the layers,
Of granite, marl and shell.
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The lotus Petals of the human heart were the pages
of his reference and he found that every man and
woman embodied in their Self the meanings of
Vedanta. Every rising race vindicated its truth and
every dying one showed the lack of its realization.
Every hero beaconed its light. Every saint did shed
its lustre.
Every poet tasted its glory. Every artist rolled it
down from his eyes in his ecstatic tears. Never did a
happy and satisfied face greet Rama without being
entitled by him, a Vedanta face. Never did a victor
come across him whom he did not call a Practical
Vedantin. He observed the daily life of Japanese
and called them the followers of his Vedanta. The
daring adventures of the American people in their
scalings of the Alps and the Rocky mountains and
in their swimmings across the Niagara rapids, he
spoke of as manifestations of the Vedantic spirit.
When he read the news of some noble offers by
some persons of their own bodies for the purpose
of scientific research by vivisection, he saw the
practical realization of his philosophy. On such
occasions, his face glowed and his eyes became
moist, and he said, “This is indeed the service of
Truth.” In modern ideals of true democracy and
true socialism, Swami Rama saw the final triumph
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of the Oriental Vedanta. Standing on the truth of
the fundamental unity of the inner man and the
inner nature, he says that those alone live who
realize the universal harmony of love. Those alone
have the real joys of life who recognise the blood in
the veins of the lily and the violet to be their own.
To see all things in one‟s own Self, and to see one‟s
own Self in all things is to have a real eye, without
which there can be no love nor beauty attracting it,
and without love or attraction he asks what is life?
In this spirit, whenever he sees in individual life
rising into spheres above body and mind, he sees a
rainbow in the sky and leaps with an infinite joy.
Vedanta is to him by no means a mere intellectual
assent but a most solemn and sacred offering of
body and mind at the holy altar of love. Intellectual
assent can feed upon philosophies and logics,
books and quotations, learning and rhetoric, and
thus grow big, but such are not the means by which
one can realize Rama‟s Vedanta. The body and
mind can be actually and practically renounced
only when the hearth fire of love is lit in the soul.
Mental renunciation of the body and every muscle
of it in love, and the dedication of mind in loving
service opens the portals of the paradise within
man. Rama‟s Vedanta is the beautiful calm of the
super consciousness which transcends the limits of
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body and mind, where all sound dies, where the
Sun and Moon get dissolved, where the whole
Cosmos ripples like a dream and is eddied into the
Infinite. It is from here that he throws the ladder for
us to reach him and see the sights of the world
below. Perennial peace in diffused there and the
man is entirely lost in God. All discussion ceases
there. And those who are there simply look around
and smile and say to every object, “Thou art good,”
“Thou art pure,” “Thou art holy,” “Thou art That.”
Neither the Sun shines there, nor sparkles the
Moon, Pranas and sound are hushed into Silence.
All life reposes in Soul‟s Sweet Slumber, No God,
no man, no cosmos there, no soul, Naught but
golden Calm and Peace and Splendour.
Puran, Dehra Dun 1909 A.D.
