The real Guru-dakshina
Swami Shankaranandaji blessed me with mantra-diksha on 31 March 1961. Prior to that Swami Bodhatmanandaji, who was my advisor and mentor, had told me, “Note down the details of your initiation in the same way that M., wrote the Gospel so that this precious memory will never be lost.” I did write it down and occasionally read it.
When I went to Bodhatmanandaji and told him about my initiation, he asked, “Did you offer guru dakshina?” I replied, “Yes, Maharaj. Since I did not have any money, and funds from Advaita Ashrama could not be spent on anything ritualistic, a brahmachari friend of mine gave me two rupees. I used one rupee to buy fruits and sweets for the offering and one rupee for guru dakshina.” Bodhatmanandaji commented, “No, you did not offer anything.”
Surprised, I again said, “Maharaj, I really did offer a rupee.”
Then Bodhatmanandaji said, “No. Do you know what real guru dakshina is? The seed mantra that your guru sowed in your heart today, that will germinate and grow into a tree in due course. That tree will bear leaves, flowers, and fruit. When you offer that ripe fruit [God-realisation] to your guru, that will be the real guru dakshina. That is what the guru wants from his disciple.”
— Swami Chetanananda
Three types of sadhus
Swami Bodhatmanandaji was indeed a sannyasi’s sanyasi. He would always remind us how to develop our spiritual life. One day, he jokingly said, “See, there are three types of sannyasis— those fried in cheap oil, those fried in ghee (clarified butter), and those fried in clarified butter and then soaked in a sweet syrup. Those fried in cheap oil have outgoing tendencies. They are always looking for good food, nice clothing, and other comforts. Those fried in clarified butter are indrawn. They spend their time in scriptural studies, prayer, and meditation; they are full of renunciation. Those belonging to the third category are well-versed in scriptures and are genuine seekers of God. They fry themselves in intense renunciation and then bathe in the sweet syrup of devotion. They remain inebriated with the bliss of knowledge blended with devotion and share that joy with others. Now, you decide which one of these categories you want to belong to.”
— Swami Chetanananda
A true teacher
A scholar like Swami Bodhatmanandaji is rare. Not only was he knowledgeable in scriptures, but he was also an ascetic. While teaching scriptures he would always point out their application—for example, how those truths were reflected in the lives of Sri Ramakrishna and his disciples. He used to teach with great feeling, and he knew the trick of communicating the substance to the students.
He suffered from chronic diabetes and high blood pressure. One day I saw he was really sick and yet he was studying Vedantasara before coming to our class. I took away his glasses and said, “Maharaj, you have been studying and teaching Vedanta for forty years. Why are you still preparing for the class?”
Bodhatmanandaji said, “Give me my glasses. Listen, I know the meaning of the texts, but if I deeply think and meditate on the subject before the class, I still find many new insights. Those new ideas and new light inspire me and my students. Superficial knowledge is not good for a teacher. It only exposes your lack of understanding before the students. In the future, never give a talk or a class without proper preparation.” I still follow Maharaj’s precious advice.
— Swami Chetanananda
Building a sadhu’s life
One day I saw Swami Bodhatmanandaji get upset in the Dining Hall. He sat in the first seat in the third row, and Swami Gangeshanandaji sat opposite to him. We brahmacharis used to serve the food. One day, Gangeshanandaji commented upon a brahmachari to his face. Hearing that, Bodhatmanandaji said, “Maharaj, these boys are not orphans. They do have a guardian.” I do not remember what else he said. The whole Dining Hall became silent. Gangeshanandaji kept quiet and finished his meal. Bodhatmanandaji used to protect the brahmacharis like a mother bird.
The following day, I witnessed a beautiful scene. Gangeshanandaji used to stay in a room on the first floor of the Monks’ Quarters. At about 9:30 A.M. Bodhatmanandaji went there, stood at Gangeshanandaji’s door, and called him. When the latter came out, Bodhatmanandaji fell at his feet and said, “Maharaj, please forgive me. I should not have spoken like that at the Dining Hall yesterday. Since then, my meditation has been disturbed. I want your forgiveness.” Gangeshanandaji embraced him and said, “Oh, that was such a trivial matter, Brother. Forget about it.” This incident took place before my eyes. Sri Ramakrishna said that the anger of a holy man is like a mark on the water.
Regarding this incident, Swami Bodhatmanandaji told me later, “See, while living together, sometimes there may be disagreements—but never nurture any ill-feeling because of that. It is better to resolve any misunderstandings sooner than later, otherwise your meditation will be disturbed. It is by subduing the ego that a sannyasi’s life is built up.”
— Swami Chetanananda
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