The parijat or ‘coral jasmine’ is blooming across India, heralding Sharad Navaratri, Dussehra and Durga Puja this month. It is called by the pretty name shiuli in Bengali, and I am tempted to retell a parable which Sri Chaitanya Mahaprabhu is said to have narrated to his disciple Sanatana Goswami. While it is from the Sri Vaishnava tradition, I feel it transcends narrow religious confines and illuminates one’s search for spiritual meaning.
Over 500 years ago, Sri Chaitanya Mahaprabhu of Bengal set off to rediscover and map the long-lost physical locations of Vrindavan where Sri Krishna is believed to have played and where the idylls and miracles of his childhood took place. This map is still followed by countless pilgrims.
Sri Chaitanya also conjured an inner landscape of a life absorbed in thoughts of Krishna, which he called ‘the hidden treasure of the Vrindavan within’. He urged that the path to this treasure lay in the practice of Naam, in repeating Krishna’s names. The practice of chanting names of God is upheld as greatly beneficial across religions, be it by Guru Nanak Dev, Tulsidas and other stalwarts of the Bhakti tradition, or in the Muslim practice of zikr or dhikr. Zikr is a form of intense devotion practiced by the Sufis in which the devotee rhythmically repeats the name of God and his attributes. The names of God may differ between Indian, Arabic and Persian culture but the intent is the same—to attain an active sense of the divine presence.
Sri Chaitanya travelled across India to spread his gospel of Krishna-worship, and met and debated with other religious personalities, attracting many followers. He taught his disciples how to find their way to the hidden treasure of Krishna-love through parables like this:
Sarvajna, whose name means ‘all-knowing’, was indeed omniscient but took care not to reveal it. He was trained in mathematics, astronomy and astrology in Ujjain, a city particularly well-acquainted with time and space. The prime meridian of the old universe of discourse passed through it. The lunar calendar or panchang calculated in Ujjain is still widely followed. Ujjain was the home of legendary scholars like Varahamihira and Bhaskara the Second.
Sarvajna belonged to this top university of minds but was not afraid of his own powers of divination. This was because he had true perspective. The time was rife with quarrels on every subject but Sarvajna refused to be drawn into them, especially when it came to topics of religion. He considered his almost miraculous powers merely as a gift that was meant to help floundering humanity. So, he kept a low profile and never showed off. He usually kept his distance from the rich, but when he found that some of them were inclined to be genuinely philanthropic, he dropped his guard a little and suggested deserving recipients.
One day, when walking to a scholarly meeting, he stopped at a village for a short rest. A thin, shabby young man caught his eye. Sarvajna sensed that there was some mystery about him and beckoned him over. He was not mistaken in these matters.
“You seem like a person of birth and education, my boy. May I see your horoscope?” asked Sarvajna pleasantly. “I was born to a good home, sir. But I have no skills and am destitute now,” said the young man, who was called Nalin. He fetched his horoscope obediently from the temple nearby. Sarvajna found his candour refreshing, a change from the weepers and wailers, and cast a keen, deductive eye on his horoscope.“But I don’t understand!” he exclaimed. “Your father buried a great treasure on your grounds. Why are you poor?”
“I don’t know where it is, sir,” said Nalin.
“Let’s find it,” said Sarvajna, and he began to meditate. When he had withdrawn deep into his mind, he was suddenly blessed with a revelation about the eighth verse from the tenth canto of the Bhagavad Gita: “I am the infinite treasure, worship me with love and discover my richness. The Vedas and all schools of thought and all forms of worship are my creation. Find me.”
Sarvjana emerged from his trance. A greater riddle had been solved unexpectedly. “We live in confusing times and are unable to realise our soul connection with God,” he thought soberly. “The south country is overly ritualistic. The north country is full of trickster yogis. The west is like a land of ghosts—it is emotionally barren, having discarded God. The east, which is the source of natural light, represents pure God-love, free of rituals, tricks and dry argument. It is the path of Sri Krishna. I see it clearly now.”He smiled affectionately at Nalin. “Let us collect some workers and go to your house,” he said. “I will pay them, don’t worry.”
When the excited party reached Nalin’s large old mansion, Sarvajna carefully surveyed the east side and selected a spot for the workers to dig. After an hour of steady digging, they heard the sound they were hoping to hear—the clunk of hitting a large, heavy chest. It was hauled up, dusted and taken into the house.
Nalin hacked at the lock with a hammer and almost fell down in shock when he opened the box. It was satisfyingly packed with gold ingots and also contained a heavy bag full of Burmese rubies, Sri Lankan sapphires and a long necklace of precious pearls collected from the seven seas.
Nalin fell at Sarvajna’s feet and thanked him profusely.
“My blessings, Nalin. I know you will do well and prosper,” said Sarvajna, pleased at the outcome of the hunch that had visited him when he saw Nalin. “Well, I must be off now. I will be back, you know, to demand my fee—that you help other people in the world.”
“Gladly, Teacher,” said Nalin with utmost respect. “I thought there was more to what you told me besides the location of my father’s treasure. Please come again so that I may learn of those other treasures from you.”
Renuka Narayanan
(shebaba09@gmail.com)