Fire of separation

- Swami Amritatmananda

In the early days of ashram life, I would, with the freedom of a son, occasionally behave stubbornly towards Amma.

She brought us up with the care of a thousand mothers and a thousand gurus. Such was the closeness and freedom permitted by the indescribable bond between Amma and her children. Often, my obstinacy would arise over insignificant words.

Some times, it would lead me to the verge of a quarrel. Then, with satchel on shoulder, I would leave the ashram in a huff. That going away might take me as far as Oachira; if the fall out more serious, down to Kanyakumari. No farther.

Amma showed me right away that the root cause of my stubbornness and hostility was my inflated ego; not only that, She also indelibly inscribed in my heart the lesson that egoism was the most formidable enemy of the aspirant on the spiritual path.

Amma was very keen on her children studying the scriptures and discussing them. She always encouraged her children to participate in such discussions. And whenever the eight or nine of us ashram residents got together, the debates would usually escalate into a heated war of words. Sometimes, when the wrangling was about to reach its peak, Amma would suddenly appear, as if from nowhere, and participate animatedly in the discussion. Questions and doubts would be directed towards Amma, and she would respond to question after question with Her characteristic simplicity and insight. At times, during such occasions, some householders would arrive at the ashram. They would also gather around Amma to hear her wise words.

“It was one such day. I regarded it as a matter of great pride to ask a “tough” question. Well, here was an opportunity to stand out before a crowd of devotees, to become someone! I did not squander the opportunity: I threw Amma a question, one meant to baffle. Contrary to custom, Amma gave an unexpected reply, with some displeasure: “Dear child, you won’t understand the answer!” I got deflated before that audience. I felt as if I had literally been cut down to size. Amma had laid the axe at the root of my ego. I felt completely beaten. Making a fool of me before the gathering! Making me nobody! I was stung to the quick. No, the pain was more than my ego could bear. How many times Amma had said, looking at my face, “Ram mon (son) is really discriminating!” How much joy I had felt during such moments. And now… I won’t be able to understand anything??? The conspicuously scornful look on Amma’s face increased my discomfiture. My mind felt so hurt by the pain. Enough was enough! I got up, and with my satchel, left the ashram. I headed straight for Kanyakumari. Spend two days there; then return to the ashram: that would be my protest. At least, I only intended so much.

Nearing dusk, I reached Kanyakumari. Perhaps it was a reflection of my inner unease, but the surroundings seemed totally numb. I started walking aimlessly. Eventually, I wound up near the ashram of Mayiamma, the illustrious avadhutta (a class of self-realized beings known for disregarding social norms) who reigned in Kanyakumari. Upon inquiry, I learnt that Mayiamma was not in the ashram; a devotee from Salem had brought her to his hometown three days before. Going to a deserted corner, I scrutinized my surroundings. The rays of the setting sun had turned the western sky crimson. To my mind, it seemed like the blood from my bleeding heart. For a long time, I stood gazing at the horizon.

Suddenly, I felt someone’s hand on my back. When I turned around, I saw a middle-aged man whom I has seen around Mayiamma. Stretching out the food-vessel in his hand towards me, he said: These creatures have not even had water since they have not seen ‘Amma’ ( referring to Mayiamma). I’ve tried my best. Perhaps, if you offer the food, they may eat it. “ I followed his gaze.

About 50 dogs- Mayiamma’s darlings who constantly tailed her-were lying down with forelegs stretched out, chins on the ground and eyes closed. Tear streaks stained the faces of most. Wonder-struck I looked towards the man. Without pausing, he continued, “ When ‘Amma’ is not here, these creatures don’t eat anything. Do such beings exist?” The rays of the setting sun were reflected in the tears streaming down from the dog’s eyes. They were lying down there with their faces masked in an inscrutable emotion. Did these dogs have the appropriate discrimination and love to accept and experience the pain of separation? Is it not commonly thought that dogs lack the discrimination of humans who forget everything as soon as they gain even a little?

With the food-vessel in hand, I went and stood near the dogs. Without stirring in the least bit, the dogs lay there, eyes still, as if in samadhi ( a transcendental state where one loses all sense of identity.) After sometime, four or five dogs looked up at me and then resumed their original posture. Was it contempt towards me that was reflected in that look? How did these dogs attain the attitude of disdain towards the whole world, as if it were as insignificant as grass? What priceless treasure had the dogs gained from Mayiamma? Was it the food that she would occasionally throw their way? It could not be. As I looked into the dogs’ stricken eyes, a fresh, simple and subtle understanding permeated my heart and, later, into my awareness. Suddenly, feeling guilty, I felt darkness covering my eyes; my head reeled. I began perspiring profusely. I felt an immense burden weighing down my mind, as I had committed a terrible sin.

My mind flew to Vallikkavu. A glittering picture of Amma smiling at me with great affection and compassion, beckoning me to come near her, appeared before me, and then vanished. Losing control, I cried out loudly, “ Amma…” I flet an irresistible urge to see Amma at once. Handing over the food-vessel to the middle-aged man, I ran off from there.

When I reached the ashram in the wee hours of the morning, I saw Amma sitting cross-legged in the verandah of the kalari( the ancestral shrine of Amma’s biological family). I prostrated before her and then stood nearby, feeling guilty. Like an omen ( or was it Amma’s play?!), a dog passed that way. Looking at it and speaking to no one in particular, Amma said, “ Even dogs have the gratitude and love towards their masters…” Without completing the sentence, she turned her gaze away from the dog, and fixing it on some distant point, sat there exuding a mother’s love-tinged anger. I looked carefully into Amma’s eyes. They were brimming with tears. Overwhelmed by hurt and guilt in my heart, I feel into her lap. Very compassionately, Amma kissed me on my head, and caressing me, murmured, “ My naughty child, has your anger disappeared?” Amidst those caresses, I felt the clouds of pain engulfing my mind condensing into tears that poured out onto Amma’s lap.

I learnt the meaning of love and separation from those innocent creatures. Love and egoism can never go hand in hand. Where there is love, there is no ego; where there is egoism there is no love.

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