Fallibility - an open sesame to surrender

EPIGRAPH

In the depths of our fallibility
The Black Pearler
Smiles brightly

Oh Dear, the semantics of fallibility! I do not mean by fallibility a situation where the seeker fails due to temptation. To submit to temptation is a DELIBERATED response.

Here, what I mean by fallibility is a situation where the devotee does his or her very best and despite his or her best attempts fails whilst in the throes of service. At the point of failure the devotee is fully engaged in service - this is true fallibility.

I disagree... (never mind)

You cannot.

This is taken from the book ‘Yogi Sri Krishnaprem’ by Dilip Kumar Roy.



The experience he had at the feet of Ramana Maharishi was typical and revealing. I will do my best to tell it in his own words as far as possible.

“You know, Dilip,” he said, “how profound is my admiration and veneration for the Sage. I agree whole-heartedly with Sri Aurobindo’s verdict that His tapasya is a shining light of India. So I went to Ramana Ashram in Tiruvannamalai to receive His blessing.

“When , in the evening, I entered the hall where the Maharishi reclines daily on his couch, I sat down in silence along with the others, to meditate at his feet. But believe it or not, Dilip, as soon as I sat down I heard a voice questioning me over and over again: ‘Who are you ? Who are you? Who are you?’ I tried hard to ignore it, but it went on and on like an importunate visitor, knocking at the door, who insisted on being admitted. So, In the end, I just had to formulate an answer: ‘I am Krishna’s servant.’ At once the question changed, like a shape-changer into: ‘Who is Krishna?’ I answered ‘Nanda’s Son.’ No use; the question was repeated pauselessly. I thought up other answers like – ‘He’s an Avatar, the One-in-all, the Resident of every heart’ and so on….but the questioning would not cease, till, at last, I gave it up, left the hall, and returned, deeply disturbed, to meditate. But I had no peace: the voice gave me no respite, till, in the end, I had to evoke Radharani who asked me very simply what answers I had given. I told Her but She shook Her head and then, at last, revealed it to me.”

“She did?” I said, thrilled.

He anticipated me, holding up his hand.

“No, Dilip, don’t ask me please! I won’t tell you, for you will tell everybody, don’t I know you? But listen – there are more thrills to come”.

“Next morning,” he went on, “when I sat down again at his blessed feet, the Maharishi suddenly gave me a lightening glance, and smiled. I knew at once beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was the author of it all and that he also knew that I had divined his part correctly.

“Then, as I closed my eyes to meditate, a deep peace descended into me and settled like a block of ice as it were till my every cell was numb with an exquisite bliss…..

“As I meditated, it was borne home to me through the mystic silence that though this peace stemmed ultimately from the Lord Himself – doesn’t He say in the Gita that He Himself is the primal source of all experience – the peace in this instance was transmitted through His beloved agent; the Maharishi.

“But isn’t that precisely why He sends to us, as His deputies, the great saints and sages, Messiahs and Avatars?”

“Of course He does. Didn’t Ma explain to you the import of His naralila – that is, why He comes down to play hide and seek with us, humans, as a human being?”

He paused for a little and gave me a quizzical look.

“I feel tempted to tell you about the sequel – “

“Only you have misgivings about confiding in me?” I finished for him, laughing.

“Well, I’ll risk it,” he laughed back. “For what happened was too wonderful. So listen.”

I hung on his words.

“As I went on imbibing this delectable peace – meditating at his feet – I suddenly took it into my head to return the compliment and put a question to him in silence: “And who are you, may I humbly ask?’ It so happened that the next moment I had to open my eyes involuntarily when – lo, I found his couch empty!”

“You don’t say so!”

“Yes, Dilip,” he nodded, smiling and enjoying my mystification. “There was the couch where he had presided two seconds before, but in the twinkling of an eye as it were he had vanished – just melted into thin air! I closed my eyes once more and then looked again – and there he was tranquil and beneficent like Lord Shiva Himself! A momentary smile flickered on his lips as he gave a meaningful glance and then looked away.”

I caught my breath. “Marvellous!”

“It was indeed” he nodded again. Then after a while: “ You see the point of the miracle don’t you?”

“That he was beyond nama-rupa ?”

“That’s right,” he answered reflectively, “Or shall I say: The One beyond all maya, the Star beyond the phantoms, The Last Reality beyond ephemera, the Silence beyond the songs – you may make use of any simile you fancy. Personally, I look upon it as a sign of his Grace – giving me the answer in a way only he could have given.”

I smiled. “So, he met you more than half-way?”

“He is compassion itself, don’t you know?”

“I do. But what then?”

“The rest is silence,” he answered, “don’t you know your Shakespeare?”

There is one among us who keeps asking, "Who is Radha?" Some consider her a failure for asking this - a failure as a devotee. She asks and asks and the one who knows smiles brighter and brighter.

Do not fear, Brothers and Sisters - do not fear for fallibility caused by questions. Questions cannot shake the truth. Light does not cringe in the darkness.

Who is Raadha? It is not a question I would ask but glory to the one who is born to meditate on this question. Askance too is surrender. Sometimes the face of truth is a questioning face!