Raychandbhai

I said in the last chapter that the sea was rough in Bombay harbour, not an unusual thing in the Arabian Sea in June and July. It had been choppy all the way from Aden. Almost every passenger was sick; I alone was in perfect form, staying on deck to see the stormy surge, and enjoying the splash of the waves. At breakfast, there would be just one or two people besides myself, eating their oatmeal porridge from plates carefully held in their laps, lest the porridge itself find its place there.

I said in the last chapter that the sea was rough in Bombay harbour. That is not unusual in the Arabian Sea in June and July. The sea had been choppy all the way from Aden. Almost every passenger was sick. I alone felt perfectly well, staying on deck to watch the stormy sea and enjoy the splashing waves. At breakfast, only one or two people would join me. They ate their oatmeal porridge from plates held carefully in their laps, so the porridge would not end up there instead.

The outer storm was to me a symbol of the inner. But even as the former left me unperturbed, I think I can say the same thing about the latter. There was the trouble with the caste that was to confront me. I have already adverted to my helplessness in starting on my profession. And then, as I was a reformer, I was taxing myself as to how best to begin certain reforms. But there was even more in store for me than I knew.

The storm outside seemed to me a symbol of the storm within. But just as the storm outside did not disturb me, I think I can say the same about the storm within. I would have to face trouble with my caste. I have already mentioned how helpless I felt about starting my profession. And as a reformer, I was also struggling to decide how best to begin certain reforms. But even more lay ahead of me than I knew.

My elder brother had come to meet me at the dock. He had already made the acquaintance of Dr. Mehta and his elder brother, and as Dr. Mehta insisted on putting me up at his house, we went there. Thus the acquaintance begun in England continued in India, and ripened into a permanent friendship between the two families.

My elder brother had come to meet me at the dock. He had already met Dr. Mehta and his elder brother. Dr. Mehta insisted that I stay at his house, so we went there. The acquaintance that began in England continued in India and grew into a lasting friendship between the two families.

I was pining to see my mother. I did not know that she was no more in the flesh to receive me back into her bosom. The sad news was now given me, and I underwent the usual ablution. My brother had kept me ignorant of her death, which took place whilst I was still in England. He wanted to spare me the blow in a foreign land. The news, however, was none the less a severe shock to me, but I must not dwell upon it. My grief was even greater than over my father’s death. Most of my cherished hopes were shattered. But I remember that I did not give myself up to any wild expression of grief. I could even check the tears, and took to life just as though nothing had happened.

I longed to see my mother. I did not know that she was no longer alive to welcome me into her arms. I was now told the sad news, and I performed the customary ritual washing. My brother had kept me from learning of her death, which happened while I was still in England. He wanted to spare me the blow in a foreign land. Even so, the news was a severe shock, but I must not dwell on it. My grief was even greater than it had been over my father’s death. Most of my cherished hopes were shattered. But I remember that I did not give way to any wild expression of grief. I could even hold back my tears and went on with life as though nothing had happened.

Dr. Mehta introduced me to several friends, one of them being his brother Sjt. Revashankar Jagjivan, with whom there grew up a lifelong friendship. But the introduction that I need particularly take note of was the one to the poet Raychand or Rajachandra, the son-in-law of an elder brother of Dr. Mehta, and partner of the firm of jewellers conducted in the name of Revashankar Jagjivan. He was not above twenty five then, but my first meeting with him convinced me that he was a man of great character and learning. He was also known as a shatavadhani (one having the faculty of remembering or attending to a hundred things simultaneously), and Dr. Mehta recommended me to see some of his memory feats. I exhausted my vocabulary of all the European tongues I knew, and asked the poet to repeat the words. He did so in the precise order in which I had given them. I envied his gift without however coming under its spell. The thing, that did cast its spell over me, I came to know afterwards. This was his wide knowledge of the scriptures, his spotless character, and his burning passion for self-realisation. I saw later that this last was the only thing for which he lived. The following lines of Muktanand were always on his lips and engraved on the tablets of his heart:

Dr. Mehta introduced me to several friends, including his brother Sjt. Revashankar Jagjivan. He and I became lifelong friends. But the introduction I must especially mention was to the poet Raychand or Rajachandra. He was the son-in-law of Dr. Mehta’s elder brother. He was also a partner in the jewelry firm operating under the name Revashankar Jagjivan. He was no more than twenty-five then. But our first meeting convinced me that he was a man of great character and learning. He was also known as a shatavadhani (someone able to remember or attend to a hundred things at once). Dr. Mehta suggested that I see some of his feats of memory. I used up my vocabulary in all the European languages I knew and asked the poet to repeat the words. He repeated them in the exact order I had given them. I envied his gift, but it did not captivate me. I learned later what did captivate me: his wide knowledge of the scriptures, his spotless character, and his burning passion for self-realisation. I later saw that self-realisation was the only thing he lived for. The following lines of Muktanand were always on his lips and engraved on his heart:

Raychandbhai’s commercial transactions covered hundreds of thousands. He was a connoisseur of pearls and diamonds. No knotty business problem was too difficult for him. But all these things were not the centre round which his life revolved. The centre was the passion to see God face to face. Amongst other things on his business table there were invariably to be found some religious book and his diary. The moment he finished his business he opened the religious book or the diary. Much of his published writings is a reproduction from this diary. The man who immediately on finishing his talk about weighty business transactions began to write about the hidden things of the spirit could evidently not be a businessman at all, but a real seeker after Truth. And I saw him thus absorbed in godly pursuits in the midst of business, not once or twice, but very often. I never saw him lose his state of equipoise. There was no business or other selfish tie that bound him to me, and yet I enjoyed the closest association with him. I was but a briefless barrister then, and yet whenever I saw him he would engage me in conversations of a seriously religious nature. Though I was then groping and though I could not be said to have any serious interest in religious discussion, still I found his talk of absorbing interest. I have since met many a religious leader or teacher. I have tried to meet the heads of various faiths, and I must say that no one else has ever made on me the impression that Raychandbhai did. His words went straight home to me. His intellect compelled as great a regard from me as his moral earnestness, and deep down in me was the conviction that he would never willingly lead me astray and would always confide to me his innermost thoughts. In my moments of spiritual crisis, therefore, he was my refuge.

Raychandbhai’s business dealings involved hundreds of thousands. He was an expert on pearls and diamonds. No business problem was too complicated for him. But business was not the center of his life. His central passion was to see God face to face. Among the other things on his business table, there was always a religious book and his diary. As soon as he finished his business, he opened one or the other. Much of his published writing comes from this diary. One moment, he would be discussing important business dealings. The next, he would be writing about the hidden things of the spirit. Clearly, he was not a businessman at heart, but a true seeker after Truth. I saw him absorbed in godly pursuits amid his business, not just once or twice, but very often. I never saw him lose his composure. No business dealings or other selfish interests connected us, yet I was very close to him. I was then a barrister without clients. Yet whenever I saw him, he would draw me into serious conversations about religion. I was still searching for my way and could not be said to have a serious interest in religious discussion. Even so, I found his talk absorbing. Since then, I have met many religious leaders and teachers. I have tried to meet the heads of various faiths. But I must say that no one else has ever made the same impression on me as Raychandbhai. His words went straight to my heart. I respected his intellect as much as his moral seriousness. Deep down, I was convinced that he would never willingly lead me astray. I also believed that he would always share his innermost thoughts with me. So, in moments of spiritual crisis, I turned to him for refuge.

And yet in spite of this regard for him I could not enthrone him in my heart as my Guru. The throne has remained vacant and my search still continues.

Yet despite my respect for him, I could not place him on the throne in my heart as my Guru. The throne remains empty, and my search continues.

I believe in the Hindu theory of Guru and his importance in spiritual realisation. I think there is a great deal of truth in the doctrine that true knowledge is impossible without a Guru. An imperfect teacher in mundane matters may be tolerable, but not so an imperfect one in spiritual matters. Only a perfect gnani¹¹ deserves to be enthroned as Guru. There must, therefore, be ceaseless striving after perfection. For one gets the Guru that one deserves. Infinite striving after perfection is one’s right. It is its own reward. The rest is in the hands of God.

I believe in the Hindu idea of the Guru and the importance of a Guru in spiritual realization. I think there is a great deal of truth in the belief that true knowledge is impossible without a Guru. An imperfect teacher may be acceptable in worldly matters, but not in spiritual matters. Only a perfect gnani¹¹ deserves to be honored as a Guru. We must therefore strive continually for perfection. For each person gets the Guru they deserve. We have the right to strive endlessly for perfection. That striving is its own reward. The rest is in the hands of God.

Thus, though I could not place Raychandbhai on the throne of my heart as my Guru, we shall see how he was, on many occasions, my guide and helper. Three moderns have left a deep impress on my life, and captivated me: Raychandbhai by his living contact; Tolstoy by his book, The Kingdom of God is within you; and Ruskin by his Unto this Last. But of these more in their proper place.

So, though I could not give Raychandbhai the place of my Guru in my heart, we shall see how he often guided and helped me. Three modern figures deeply influenced and captivated me. Raychandbhai did so through personal contact, Tolstoy through his book The Kingdom of God is within you, and Ruskin through his Unto this Last. But I will say more about them at the proper time.