The Pilgrims Tell Their Stories – Part 3: Varanasi

The Pilgrims tell their stories – Part 3: Varanasi

Dhuti: Being in Varanasi was timeless, Ma Ganga carrying fathomless eons of souls on and in her sacred waters – it felt as if we were frozen in time. Walking in the passageways, I expected to see Sri Yukteswar at the end of a lane, or Lahiri returning from his daily bath in the river, or Mukunda on an errand to the market. The chaos didn’t bother me, it felt natural.

Giampi: Varanasi often comes back to my mind. I close my eyes and once again I see the colorful frames like a movie…the people, the animals, the cloths spread out on the steps to dry on those stones of the long Ganges, stones smoothed by the passage of thousands. How much life that begins and ends there, the river flows calmly…full of prayers and devotion, and at that point where there is Ananda Mai Ma’s ashram, the current goes north and looks upon the Himalayas where it originated.

I remember vividly the steep climb from the Ghat to get there. It was beautiful to meditate there, on that terrace. The ashram is now used to living with the chaos and the flow of Indian life. I was able to achieve, for several moments, a deep meditative peace.

I can still hear the engine of the slow boats in the distance. And when I briefly opened my eyes, I could see a soft golden, orange light on the river, and Ma’s eyes filled with compassion and divine light emanating from her picture.

Lahiri Mahasaya’s Ashram in Varanasi

Gloria: There is a small ashram within the old part of the city. There I was caught and stopped by a writing inscribed in a wall next to the Master’s ashes. It reverberated Silence, Wholeness and Nothingness at the same time – a site of great energy. A friend who just came back from Varanasi told me that she got inspired to put her head in the cavity where the ashes are. She was told that there she could clearly hear the sacred sound of Aum. She did it twice, and she heard it both times. Unexplainable little miracles happen.

At the Ashram of Lahiri Mahasaya

Babaji at the Ashram of Lahiri Mahasaya

“There is nothing to accept, nothing to reject
Nothing to dissolve!
Nothing to hold on to, Nothing to let go of.
Nothing to dissolve!
This is the truth.
There is nothing to grasp, Nothing to Spurn,
Nothing to dissolve!
This is the whole truth.
There is nothing to embrace, Nothing to relinquish,
Nothing to dissolve!
Free from attachment, Free from desire.
Still
Free am I, The Real One,
O how wonderful!
But in this me,
There is nothing to embrace,
And nothing to turn away.
When there is not this inferior little “I”,
There is freedom.
When there is “I”, There is bondage.
Consider this. It is easy.
You are the clear Space of awareness.
Pure and still, Limitless and free, Serene and undisturbed.
In whom there is no birth, no death.
No activity of mind,
No “I”.
Know you are free. Forever and truly free.
Free of “I”, Free of “Mine”.
When you know this in your heart,
That there is nothing,
You are very still,
As you are finished.”

From “ASHTAVAKRA GITA”

Lahiri Mahasaya’s House in Varanasi

Madri: “The first time we came to Varanasi, we could not find Lahiri Mahasaya’s house.” With these words a fellow traveller was telling me about her experience visiting the house of the great householder. “Then a child came and told us that he knew where it was located and would accompany us.” And so it was. She and her husband hesitantly and doubtfully followed that child who, appearing out of nowhere, led them right to the door of the Master’s dwelling. And my travelling companion added smilingly, “That child was an angel who had come to our aid.”

We pilgrims were moving away from the street where Lahiri Mahasaya had lived and we were still in an elevated state of consciousness in which our feet did not touch the ground, so to speak, and everything seemed to be pervaded by a wave of spiritual power and joy. The streets, steeped in acrid smells, stores, animals and motorcycles, followed one after another in our sight. With a decisive slalom, we proceeded happily to the ghat, having received the darshan of this hundred-year-old door. This time it had been easy to find. Sure enough, on a mid-February morning, as we entered the Muslim quarter of Varanasi, a group of forty pilgrims was standing in front of a rickety door – the only publicly visible element of the house of Lahiri Mahasaya and Kashi Mouni, his wife.
We had come to the place where the great Master had welcomed the still swaddling baby Mukunda and foretold his future as a spiritual locomotive that would lead thousands of souls to God. It was here that Sri Yukteswar and Babaji also used to visit the Yogavatar (embodiment of yoga).

Singing hymns and prayers, we spent more than an hour motionless, as if we were one organism breathing in unison, ending the visit with a long meditation as we clung to the walls of the narrow street.
Each of us, in turn, prostrated ourselves at the door, touching the sacred discolored wooden doors with our foreheads and hands. The outer eye could see this abandoned building, but the inner eye grasped the power that came out from behind the doorway. Hundreds of devotees, of kriya yogis, at every hour of the day and night had entered and exited that wooden passageway where worldly life ended and a world of love, spiritual guidance, bliss, realization and divine presence opened up.
That day it was our turn to come to the Great Teacher’s door. With emotion and gratitude, motionless with our eyes closed, we paused in that sacred place, sustained by the presence of Lahiri himself, who welcomed us with a big smile.

People of all ages and walks of life flowed before our eyes. Some slowed their pace, and, with a gesture of devotion, touched the sacred door, a quick touch which was almost imperceptible to human eyes. They then quickly continued on and disappeared down the street.

In meditation sometimes the mind returns to that place. A scent of incense pervades the air, the light is strong and intense, and I can cross the threshold, the door is unbolted, and if I push it, I can enter…

Who knows if someday that door will open again and the house, where it all began – the path of Kriya yoga for householders, for all those who sincerely seek God, will come alive once again, where one can go to meditate and breathe in the vibrations of our great Father, Lahiri Mashaya.

Boat Trip to Varanasi

Suryani: Ancient Varanasi, the name of the Indian city of Benares, also known as Kashi, is one of the most inspiring places in India. It is a magical place where its first impression may shock you, but if you take a deep breath and throw yourself into its energy, you discover something truly unique and inspiring.

On our pilgrimage we spent three days in this city that is rich in history, traditions, uses and customs.

Varanasi is the place of happiness and death. It is the sacred place of Hinduism. This is where worshippers come to purify their karma or die to attain moksha – the liberation of the cycle of reincarnation. In fact, Hindus believe that death in this city will bring them salvation.

The city is an important pilgrimage center and is known worldwide for its many Ghats which are embankments made of stone slab steps along the riverbank where pilgrims perform ritual ablutions.

One of the most beautiful adventures I personally experienced was definitely the boat trip that skirted the ghats of Varanasi.

We made our first trip up the Ganges to the ashram of Swami Trailanga, the saint described in the Autobiography of a Yogi. Along the journey I marveled at the energy that seeps out of this city; it is as if you are looking at a static painting that wants to speak to you and tell the many stories that have lived it. Every corner has its own particular vibration and beauty and you can’t take your eyes off this multitude of colors, scents and scenes of life.

On the return trip we stopped at one of the main Ghats where a special Arathi is performed every day. We stayed on the boat, so it was impossible to see everything in detail, but the atmosphere was absolutely idyllic with its dimmed lights, a light haze of fumes, and music that wafted across the Ganges and entertained hundreds of people. Unfortunately, the magic of the arathi came to an end after about 20 minutes, but this was an experience that will be forever etched in our souls and will prompt us to seek it again life after life.

Shri Kashi Vishwanath Temple

Atul: With an underlying current of love and blessings from Master, Ananda Moyi Ma and Mother Ganges, Varanasi was for me the clearest display of the impermanent and dual nature of life.

One morning on our way to Ananda Moyi Ma’s ashram, I paused for a brief moment to capture a scene of the sunrise over the Ganges. Looking back at the photo of that scene, I am reminded of how the water merged with the sky, making the horizon almost indistinguishable, and how the sun could be perceived as the moon, blurring the lines of reality in another sense.

Given the ancient nature of Varanasi, never did I expect that I would be spending time at a modern coffee shop in this city. But with a sign along the ghat that read “True Path to Caffeine Consciousness,” Sol Cafe easily drew me in on our free day. I spent a few hours here enjoying a few cappuccinos while staring out the window watching the stream of people strolling along the ghat. Eventually, I decided to ask the seemingly knowledgeable owner of the shop where I could “find a quiet place to meditate.” Her initial response was a hearty laugh. But then she told me to go much farther north along the ghat, where I would find less populated temples and ashrams.

As I began my walk along the ghat, I decided to stroll to the top of the steps of the Shri Kashi Vishwanath Temple. Atop the steps, I discovered an open rooftop sort of area overlooking the ghat and the Ganges. There were not many people around, and there were benches scattered throughout the clean, simple grounds. I picked a bench to get comfortable, and although it wasn’t pure silence or quiet by any means, it was “quiet enough” compared to other places we had been. After all, as I had learned by now, “quiet” was a relative term in India.

The rooftop bench at the temple ended up being just the right place for a long, deep meditation, during which I prayed to Master for guidance and assurance of his presence. Master certainly answered my prayers within the meditation, and I arose from the bench with a deep sense of gratitude and a loving presence within my heart. Afterward, I walked back to the front entrance steps of the temple and sat down to enjoy some snacks, while observing the flood of people going in and out of the temple. It was already early evening, and the flow of darshan-seekers had picked up considerably.

As I contemplated heading back to the hotel, a unique rendition of “Om Namah Shivaya” began to play loudly on the loud-speakers of the temple. I found the chant rather “enchanting” and decided to hang out on the rooftop chanting along and watching the scene down below along the ghat, which was full of people…many taking selfies, some simply walking by, some singing along to the music, some dancing, some eating, some begging for money, some selling souvenirs, some petting the stray dogs, some shooing the stray dogs, some catching a boat ride along the Ganges, and some being cremated. The cremations within sight really hit me, and I wondered how it was possible that all these people were going about their daily lives like nothing was happening while people were being cremated right next to them? It was a scene unlike anything I had witnessed, and it made me question everything. It was a scene that opened up the floodgates within me for a deep yearning for God.

As “Om Namah Shivaya” continued to blare on the loud-speakers, I continued to chant along on the rooftop with this yearning inside of me. After about 20-30 minutes with the chant on repeat, the music finally stopped, and some colorful lights turned on directly in front of the temple (right in front of me across the rooftop). After a closer look, I discovered that the lights were projecting a movie/show onto the front facade of the temple. As I walked back down to the front of the temple to see the show, it didn’t take me long to remember how Master describes life as a movie manifested by the projection of God’s consciousness. I felt this projection show was Master answering my yearning, with a loving reminder that this is all God’s drama, and that this scene I was witnessing was simply a manifestation of Her divine play, just like the rest of life. Nothing more.

To make things even more clear, the projection show was about Lord Shiva, known as The Destroyer within the Trimurti.

The “Shiva show” was about 5-7 minutes long, and it would repeat about every 20-30 minutes throughout the evening, with the “Om Namah Shivaya” chant blaring in between, all the while daily life along the ghat carried on. I stayed for a couple of hours chanting along, watching the “show,” and simply taking it all in.  The whole experience felt surreal to me, but I guess that was Master’s point. By putting the impermanent and dual nature of life on its fullest display, the lines of reality were blurred for me momentarily, reminding me that this is all God’s Lila.