In one of His letters, our loving Lord Pagal Haranath had drawn a beautiful analogy to life on earth. He compared us to eternal travellers, set for a very far away destination (crossing ‘sahasra koti yoni’). At the end of each day, as the sun sets, the wary traveller checks-in to an inn for rest and night’s sleep – to get rejuvenated for the onward journey next morning. The checking-in at the inn is what we call ‘birth’……the night spent there as the ‘life’ on earth……and departing in the morning for the next leg of the journey as end of worldly life (‘death’)….. What can be a more wonderfully appropriate analogy to this cycle?………And, for me personally, the unstated yet the most beautiful aspect of this analogy is that it takes the sting out of ‘death’. It makes ‘death’ appear gentle and benign – even a kindly entity to be welcomed!……In this context, the Lord has painted in my mind yet another charming imagery for it; which is as follows:

Each of us is a small child in the lap of mother Kusum Kumari. Her radiant, smiling face showers ethereal love and affection on the child. He feels happy, contented and secure in Her lap,  …..Then, as ‘kaal chakra’ rolls on inexorably, it is time for the child to sleep. The mother, smiling and running her fingers through his hair, starts singing softly the sweetest lullaby there is. The child gently and slowly drifts into deep sleep……That is his entry into the life on earth – his ‘birth’…..Then in his dream he observes myriad senseles events unfold. Some are pleasant and sweet….some scary and intimidating (nightmares)…….That is the ‘life on earth’ ! In his deep sleep, the child goes through all these experiences, feeling lost, helpless and vulnerable – but completely unaware he is still safe on his mother’s lap………………Then, when it is time for him to wake up (departing the earth), he opens his eyes to again find himself firmly secure in the mother’s lap, with her smiling, loving gaze fixed on his face. The fear, anxiety and hopelessness of the moment earlier washes away in a flash !……………..If we only we are blessed to visualise and believe in that imagery,  so called ‘death’ will truly resonate with that famous line – “maran re, tuhun mama Shyam samaan”

VRINDAVAN – Episode II

Tilak Ghoshal

In blog post no. 39 on the ‘shoe episode’, I had mentioned about my resolve (Borobaba willing) to walk back to Banke Behari temple absolutely barefoot – to at least partly atone for my extreme stupidity and insolence of not ‘soiling’ my feet with Braj raj (dust of Vrindavan). Thankfully, Borobaba ensured that resolve was fulfilled. Next morning I set out from Kusumharanath ashram barefoot and reached the temple – alone this time. And as on the previous day, I was blessed to be granted yet another opportunity of a hesrt fulfilling darshan of Banke Behari from very close quarters. Since I was due to leave for Kolkata the following morning, I said my ‘bye’ to Him for this time.………In the previous post I had also mentioned about another resolve – to hand over the pair of shoes that I had bought from the roadside vendor to the very first barefoot poor man I come across when leaving Vrindavan (hoping it will lessen a bit the suffering of some friend of my ‘friend’ in the ensuing cold)……..Oh, by the way, I missed telling you about my third attraction in Vrindavan (besides Kusumharanath ashram and Banke Behari temple). And that is, piping hot Puree-sabzi at roadside eateries, especially during winter months !

My return trip to Kolkata was via Delhi. Bulbul had asked if I could drop him on the way, at Gurgaon. I was only too glad to do so – for what could be more welcome than a company in the 3-4 hour drive. Next morning I packed up my things in the suitcase and carried the new pair of shoes in a polythene bag, to hand over to the first barefoot, poor person I come across. Bulbul had also arrived by then. As I was about to board the car, I saw a lanky, barefoot guy with dishelved hair and a lost look on his face cross me – headed in the opposite direction. I considered handing him over the shoes but then, for some inexplicable reason, thought the man was some sort of a pretender and also didn’t quite appear impoverished enough !! So I decided to look for a ‘proper and real poor’ guy and told Bulbul so. But, in the process, I forgot the operative part of my own resolve – “the first barefoot….”And he was indeed the first !! Anyway, we were on our way. Bulbul asked me not to worry and that I will find my man The driver had already been reminded several times to stop at a Puree-Sabzi stall before we cross the town limits of Vrindava. As we sped, I kept my gaze fixed on the road, looking for the poor, barefoot man.

The car finally pulled up at an eatery about 3 kM from where we had started. Strangely, I had not seen a single barefoot prerson all this while. As we ate our Puree-Sabzi, I didn’t take my eyes off the road. As the minutes ticked by and knowing we were very close to the town limits of Vrindavan, I began to despair at the prospect of my resolve remaining unfulfilled…….Then suddenly, out of nowhere, the same lanky, barefoot guy with dishelved hair and lost look appeared right in front of the eatery – the very ‘first’ barefoot man I had come across earlier – and whom I had considered ‘unworthy’ of the gift!! I was stunned beyond words. Bulbul was dumbfounded too ! I couldn’t figure out how the man had covered such a long distance in so a short time and what, after all, made him turn back (he was headed in the opposite direction, when I had first seen him). Hesitantly and with trepidation I offered him the bag, saying in Hindi – ‘just a pair of shoes. May be of some use to you”. The man looked at me for a few seconds. I was petrified he might refuse and walk away; dashing my hope of fulfilling my vow. Then, with a look of someone doing me a big favour, he took the bag from me, casually glanced inside and was on his way again – without a word !!………..My heart unburdened, I thought to myself, the chappie will never know how big a favour he had indeed done me that day !!….Then it occurred to me – perhaps he knew !!!

Our Lord had so lovingly shone His light on two cardinal truths in two days for me. No reprimand, no disciplining – with just unadulterated love. It is not for nothing that we call Him the ‘Premavatar” !!

LESSONS IN VRINDAVAN – Part I
Tilak Ghoshal

Brajbhumi (Vrindavan) is one of my all time favourite destinations. If memory serves me right, it was in the winter of 2006-07 that I first visited the holy land and was completely floored rightaway. Besides the charm of His modest ashram, what Kusumharanath also did to tie me down to that place for ever was a darshan of Banke Behariji. I still haven’t quite figured what it was about the deity or the temple environment that Vrindavan could hold such sway over me for a decade – the attraction undiminished….nay, probably growing stronger with time. I had the opportunity of visiting the place 3-4 times since. Therefore when Borobaba made everything fall in place for me, I set out for Vrindavan yet again, on the occasion of this year’s Naam Trayham (17/11-19/11/2017) at the original Kusumhara Ashram……..

In between being soaked in the uninterrupted chanting/singing of ‘Radhe Krishna jay, Krishna Murari jay, Jay Haranath jay Kusum Kumari jay” and in the holy company of some true devotees, I, naturally, also called on Banke Behariji three times – and all three times, finding myself right in front of the bedi (alter). On the first two occassions Bulbul (Masterda’s son) accompanied me – last time around, it was all by myself. How in that teeming crowd of devotees and all the jostling I ended up right below the alter all three times, is another tale for another day. Here let me share two very ‘funny’ incidents in the company of Bulbul. Here’s the first part….

When I was setting out for Vrindavan, Ruma (my sister) had messaged – “get us ‘raj’ (dust/soil) of Braja”…and I had jokingly replied – “Brajraj will be on my shoes. How do I give you?”………. On the first day morning – around 11 o’clock – two of us (Bulbul and me) reached Banke Behari temple. As we were taking off our shoes at the temple entrance stairway, I muttered in jest –“I hope the shoes don’t get stolen”. Bulbul said – “Bapuda, footwears never get stolen in this temple”……..With the pair of socks on, we walked to the santum sanctorum. The moment I entered, the face of Banke Behari came into full view ! I raised my left hand and shouted playfuly – “Hi friend, here I am’………and then set myself free in the jostling crowd. After being pushed around for a while I found myself right in front of Banke Behari, holding on to the railing under the bedi !! I stood there transfixed – simply gazing at Him, oblivious of all the pushing and shoving around, mind chatting ceaselessly with Him (monologue)….. After having my ‘fill’ for the moment, I started back and was out the gate in a breeze – heart satiated with indescribable joy of having met ‘friend’. Bulbul was already there near the shoe heap and the moment he saw me, he called out – “hey Bapuda, here are your shoes. Let’s go”…… On returning to the ashram to rejoining the naam gaan, I suddenly remembered that in my euophoria of meeting Him, I had completely forgotten to tell Banke Behari that my mother too had sent Him her pranam. Armed with that excuse, visited Him again in the evening !! And thats when the real fun started !!

Like in the morning, Bulbul and I removed our shoes and walked in. And, like in the morning, I allowed myself to be jostled and pushed around till I found myself again at the feet of the bedi – where the Hundi boxes are located. I first conveyed Him my Ma’s pranam and then stood there, amazed at the great fortune of a double darshan in one single day! As the guys on top the bedi threw prasad garlends over to the waiting devotees below, flower petals showered and covered my bald pete. Then someone shoved a piece of prasad (that famous Peda of Vrindavan) into my palm – accepted and immediately put in mouth gratefully………It must have been over 20 minutes before the silver gates in front of the deity closed for Bhog and I began my trudge back.

Again, as in the morning, I found Bulbul standing near the shoe heap and anxiously looking around for me. The moment our eyes met, he shouted – “Come, come Bapuda, I have kep your shoes here – pointing to near his feet……………But shoes? What shoes? Mine was nowhere in sight. Bulbul was dumbfounded. He said –‘It can’t go anywhere. Got to be here. I had kept it close to me and have been keeping an eye since. I saw it just a few seconds back also Where can it go’….he kept muttering, looking around and unable to believe his eyes……But gone it was. We examined every pair of footwear in the heap, but mine had just vanished into thin air !! For me the most perplexing asprect was that while there were many expensive, branded as well as very ordinary footwears on offer, it was my 3-year old pair of canvas shoes (the seam at the top had also started coming off) that the ‘thief’ had chosen!! There was simply no logic……As I wondered and Bulbul continued with his search, a family of four arrived and began taking off their foot wears. From the mutterings of Bulbul and the confounded look on my face the head of the family had figured it out and told me– “You are really blessed. Footwear getting ‘stolen’ from the temple is a sign of great fortune’….and then added with a smile – “People say this even clears the bad phase of Shani maharaj (shani dasha)…….I was glad to hear that, but a storm was already brewing in my head….The first rush of feeling was of immense joy and gratitude that the thought that my ‘friend’ had chosen only my shoes to give it to another ‘friend’ of His, who needs it for the ensuing winter !!! …… And then the came thunder, as my stuipd words to Ruma (“Brajraj will be on my shoes….) began tormenting me….. Such words for Brijraj? Such obnoxiou words for something that is considered equivalent to Puri’s Mahaprasad ?? How could I utter those – even if it was meant as a joke? Troubled and deeply embarrassed by my inexplicable stupidity and insensitivity, I decided that Borobaba (Thakur’ji) granting it, I will walk back to the temple the very next morning, completely barefoot – as a penance for my insolence and a reminder for the future.

Walking out on to the main street, we stopped at a roadside footwear vendor and I bought myself a pair of ordinary slip-on shoes (I had a formal one back in the hotel) and I said to myself that before leaving Vrindavan I will pass on the new pair to the first barefoot poor man I come across……may be that will be of some help to another friend of my ‘friend’ in the ensuing winter…….What happened in the process is another story……In the next episode…

Experience of Smt. Neena Rewal – NJ, USA

[As narrated to her sister Smt. Trupti Parikh]

Besides being enormously blessed to be the grand daughter of devout Haranathite Sri Umiyashankar Khambolja, I have also been a very fortunate recipient of Baba and Ma’s unbound love and grace throughout my life. In this forum I wish to share with fellow devotees a few of those wondeful experiences. Here are the first two.

Incident-I

After my marriage I moved from my parents’ home in Ahmedabad to a village called Bhor, near Pune – where my husband lived. We soon settled down to a family life and over the years were blessed with two children too – a son and a daughter. Years rolled by without our even noticing, so preoccupied were we in the business of daily living. Finally in 1999, we travelled to Ahmedabad on vacation and to visit my family members. Since I was having some problem with my eye sight at the time, my sister Manishabehn took me to an eye specialist for consultation. After examining me the doctor diagnosed it to be a case of cataract in both eyes and advised surgery as soon as it matured a little more. My brother then took me to another specialist for a second opinion. But his diagnosis and prognosis too were exactly the same as of the first doctor. With two specialists independently arriving at the same conclusion, the surgery seemed unavoidable.

A few days later we returned to Bhor and within months of it my husband suffered a massive heart attack and was gone in no time. I was devastated. Besides the personal grief and pain of loosing one’s husband, the unnerving future of having to single-handedly run the household and bring up two young children – just 9 and 7 years of age – confronted me. With meagre financial resources at my disposal, the future looked even more ominous. On top of it the thought of having to go to Pune for the eye surgery with no one to look after the children at home, nagged me no end and I felt completely lost.

I resorted to what any Kusumharanath dependent would do in such a state of mind. I began praying and crying at Their feet. As this went on, one day I suddenly had a vision that went something like this:- I observe my elder sister Manishabehn has come to Bhor to look after my childen and I am lying on a hospital bed in Pune awaiting the surgery. My sister Anjubehn is sitting on a chair across the room. Then I see Baba and Ma by my bedside and find myself saying – “Look , look Anju. Baba has completed my eye surgery and has removed the stitches too”………The vision kept recurring over the next 4 days – and then it was gone – just as abruptly as it had begun….. Gradually thereafter the task of running the household and raising the children kept me so preoccupied that the planning for the surgery slowly receded to the back of my mind. Ten years passed like this before I had the oportunity of meeting the same eye specialist at Pune in 2009. He examined me thoroughly and said bewilderingly that the cataracts were no longer there !! What two specialists had independently seen 10 yers ago had simply vanished ! The doctor was bewildered but I knew who the surgeon was who had removed them !!

Experience –II

Since it was getting increasingly difficult to single handedly run the household and bring up the two children, I, alongwith my young son and daughter moved to the USA and settled down in a town in New Jersey, where my sister Trupti and brother Asish lived. To manage living expenses, I also took up a small job in New York city. Every morning I would board a specific train to reach NY and travel back after work by a similar train. That was all I knew of the route – nothing beyond that. One evening in 2016, as I was returning from work, the sky suddenly started turning black and darkness began to descend rapidly. I hurried and boarded the train but in that hurry burry I got into a wrong one, which I realised only when the train crossed the next station. I panicked, not knowing what to do. Because of the language barrier, I wasn’t sure I could properly communicate my problem to any fellow passanger too. And even if I did, I doubted if I could follow the instructions and act accordingly. Just when I was so utterly confused and panic stricken, I saw a young boy with sparkling eyes and a bright smile come over and say very reassuringly – “Do not worry. I will show you the way to your home’ ! At the next station I followed him as he got down from the train and we crossed over to the other platform. Since I have had a surgery in my legs earlier, I was limping a bit and was not able to keep pace with him. But he kept a close watch on me, with an indulgent smile constantly on his lips. Now, at the entry barrier of the platform I had to have my pass scanned. But I had a pass for another route that would not work there. The boy smiled and said – “Don’t worry. I have a Metro Card and I will swipe it for you. I told him – “Please come with me’. He smiled and said – “You go in first. I will follow you”. He scanned his card, the gate opened and I entered the platform. I immediately turned back, hoping to see him crossing the gate too. But there was just no sign of him. He had just vanished into thin air. No one even remotely resembling him was anywhere in sight !!…….Then it dawned on me. Eyes of my Haragopal are deeply etched in my heart. And I know it was none other than Him who yet again came to my rescue that evening, when I had lost my way and was stranded …….

I am enormously blessed to be able to feel the presence of Matusree and Baba around me at all times and at all places. I intend to share a few more such wonderful experiences in the days ahead. Till then Kusumhara….

Blog Post # 37; 05.09.2017

‘The Lord Himself ensures one’s promise to Him never fails: A devotee

Locations of my house, my office and our Lord’s temple form a triangle of sorts. One particular evening I had a strong urge to visit the temple before proceeding to office the next day. Since this was going to be quite a round-about way (office nearly 20 km from the temple), I started early from home so that I could reach office in time after having darsan of the Lord. When I entered the temple, I found Ma’s and the Lord’s murtis adorned with very thin and dull garlands. I felt so sad at that sight that I promised Lord and Maa then and there to put bigger and better Mala’s (Garlands) of Lilly on Them everyday for the next one month. I immediately rushed to the nearby flower shop, purchased two beautiful, large garlands and put it on Lord and Maa. I felt so happy. From that day on, I changed my daily routine and started coming to the temple very early everyday to buy the garlands to put on Them, before proceeding to work. I was deriving immense pleasure in doing this service to the Lord and Ma.

But I soon ran out of luck. After a few days I was suddenly asked by my office to travel to Kandla (Gujarat) for a week for some very urgent work. I was, naturally, quite upset at the thought of not being in a position to keep my promise to the Lord and Ma. And, since I did not want to tell anybody of my stupid promise desire and, at the same time, wanted to perform this seva with my own hands, I did not give any money to anyone else also to do it on my behalf. This might have been a selfish act, but I was fine with it. Therefore, I sincerely apologised to Ma and the Lord for my failure and reluctantly left for Kandla. But my agony did not end here. For some reason, the work at Kandla got extended by an extra week to add to my mounting disappintment. Anyway, when I reached back after 15 days, I went directly to the temple for Their darshan, before going home. As soon as I entered the temple, my joy knew no bounds on seeing Ma and Lord, looking resplendent with beautiful rose garlends adorning Them. I simply kept staring at Them, mesmerised by the beautiful sight. My trance was broken by the arrival of the temple Poojari and he told me something that unstoppable tears streamed down my face and I dropped at the feet of Lord at His mercy. What the Poojari told me was this :– A particular devotee couple had recently been blessed with a child after many many years and as a mark of gratitude they had decided to donate rose garlands to Lord and Maa for one month, exctly from the day I had left for Kandla !! Mere coincidence? Or, yet another manifestation of Their unbounded love for us? The Lord Himself made sure my promise to Them did not fail and He arranged everything Himself on my behalf !! If this is not Love, I don’t know what is?

Blog Post # 36; 11.06.2017

‘Unfailing promise fulfilment of Thakur’ : Gunomoy Mukhopaddhay

[Written in ‘first person’ by Tilak Ghoshal based on oral narration of Sri. Mukhopaddhay]

(English translation: Tilak Ghoshal)

Since, like me, my Dadu Sri. Kuloda Ronjon Mukhopaddhyay too had worked in the railways, whenever I visited him, we would often get to talk about our work. He would reminisce about his times and, with a great deal of curiosity, enquire about various aspects of my job. One day he asked – “so, who is coming to Sonamukhi as the new station master”? I said – “Dadu, we now have a trade union here. The company (railways) had sent a few officers but all of them have been driven away by the union. Now one Gaur Kishor Das is being sent”. Dadu seemed stunned and exclaimed incredulously – “what? That non-matriculate ticket clerk of my time? Is it the same person”? I replied – “oh yes Dadu, very much the same person. Wasn’t he promoted as guard during your time”? Dadu jumped up from his bed and touching the feet of Jugal Prabhu in the photograph on the wall exclaimed – “oh Thakur! Who can ever fathom your leelas? Ultimately you made him an officer, didnt you”? And then he proceeded to tell me the ‘story’.

Prior to his retirement, Dadu was the station master of Sonamukhi railway station. During that time Sri Gaur Kishor Das had joined as a ticket clerk. He was a non-Matriculate. In those days Sonamukhi station used to maintain a few Sonamulhi-Howrah First Class tickets – exclusively for the use of Thakur’s family members and some devotees from the south and the west. The ticket used to cost abour Rs.3 & Anna 8 (Rs.3.50 in modern currency lingo). As I have mentioned in my previous narration, Thakur used to come to the station almost every evening for some chat with Dadu and his staff. After joining, Gaur Kishore began to learn some bits and pieces about Thakur from his colleagues.

One day Thakur was to travel to Kolkata. So, Dadu told Gaur Kishor to take out a 1^st. class ticket for Him when He arrived. In his extra zeal, or for whatever he though, he took out a ticket, punched it and kept in his pocket, well before Thakur was due to reach the station. So, when He arrived, Gaur Kishor prostrated in front of Thakur and placed the ticket at His feet. Thakur enquired how much He had to pay, to which Gaur Kishor replied – “nothing Thakur. That is my small gift to you as a mark of my reverence”. Thakur was quite taken back and asked – “what are you saying? Nobody gives such expensive gifts”. With folded hands Gaur Kishor again said – “but that is nothing Thakur”. Thakur then asked Dadu – “I say Kuloda, how much does this boy of yours earn a month”? Dadu replied about Rs.7 & Anna 4 (Rs.7.25 in modern currency lingo). Turning to Gaur Kishor He queried – “but, with half your salary gone in this gift, how are you going to manage your household expenses this month”? Gaur Das insisted – “oh, that will not be a problem”. The mischievous smile on His face clearly showed Thakur was by then quite amused. He said – “Kuloda, this boy of yours is very smart and clever! But now that he has offered me a gift, I have to bless him. Tell me what I should say”. Then, without waiting for his answer, he turned to Gaur Kishor and said – “ok, I bless you that you will be an officer in the railways, even if that is for one day”. In that British period nobody even in his wildest dream could have foreseen a non-matriculate, native rising to that level. But turning everything on its head that prophesy had finally come true. That is why that exclamation of Dadu – “oh Thakur! Who can ever fathom your leelas….”

Blog Post # 35; 08.06.2017

“Thakur – the eternal guide in ‘all our journey’ : Gunomoy Mukhopaddhay

[Written in ‘first person’ by Tilak Ghoshal based on oral narration of Sri. Mukhopaddhay]

(English translation: Tilak Ghoshal)

Like me, my Dadu (maternal grand father) Sri Kuloda Ranjan Bondyopaddhyay too was a railway employee. He retired as the Station Master of Sonamukhi railway station. His younger brother’s wife was a niece of Kusumkuari Ma. Therefore, besides knowing each other for a long time, this familial relationship farther deepened the friendship between Thakur and my Dadu. When Dadu was posted in Sonamukhi, Thakur, if He was not out of town, would almost invariably drop by at the station every evening for some chit chat with him and his staff. And, like Dadu, they too addressed Him as ‘Thakur’. But He would be so elegantly dressed, that it was hard for any outsider to tell if He was a spiritual soul or some wealthy aristrocrat!

As soon as Pointsman Nobarun would notice Thakur approaching the station, he would set up a chair for Him under a Neem tree in the station premises. Dadu used to live in a railway quarter adjacent to the station. Those days Brooke Bond Company had a depot at Sonamukhi and their agent would send some good quality tea to Dadu every month. Thakur liked its flavour. So, as soon as Thakur was seated, my grand mother would prepare that tea and send it across to Him, along with some biscuits. Sipping tea, Thakur would then break into conversations and banters with Dadu and ot hers.

It was a day in the month of Ashad (June-July). Monsoon had set in. Dadu suddenly received an intimation got the information from his native place Ichcharia that he had to go there to help sort out some issues with cultivation of their land. In those days of British rule, it was hard for a native railway officer to get even his due weekly off. Therefore, it is easy to imagine how tough it was to get a 2-3 day leave sanctioned. Dadu approached his superior – one Bose Babu. After lot of pleading finally he was told that next day a temporary relieving officer would arrive at Sonamukhi by the afternoon train. Dadu would have to hand him over the charge and only then he could leave. However, he would have to finish his work the following day be back to Sonamukhi the next day, so that the stand-in officer could be relieved to take the evening train back to his own place of work. Bose Babu told Dadu clearly that any failure to release the stand-in officer as discussed could lead to serious actions against him. Ichcharia was quite a distance from Sonamukhi and the only mode of transport was bullock cart. Just the to and fro journey itself took enormous time; and with the monsoon rains it was set to be much longer. But what choice did he have?

Next evening Thakur was on His way to the station for His usual evening ‘session’. As he neared Dadu’s quarter, he saw a canopied bullock cart waiting. He called out – “hey Kuloda, what’s this cart for? Who is going? And where”? Dadu came out and dejectedly replied– “what can I say Thakur. I have to go to Ichcharia on some urgent work”. Thakur said – “but why are you leaving so late in this time of heavy rains”? “What else could I do, Thakur. The stand-in officer arrived just now. I couldn’t leave without handing him over the charge. And the work at Ichcharia is so urgent that I have no option but to go. Anyway, please take your seat and chat with others. Your tea is on its way. I must rush ” – he replied. Thakur looked deeply worried and finally said – “ok proceed then, if you must. But know for sure there will be plenty of hardship along the way”.

As the cart entered the deep forest, the sky darkened farther and it began to rain heavily. In the blinding rain, even the wheel tracks naturally formed by travelling bullock carts could not be seen. It was virtually impossible to navigate. Worried stiff, Dadu just kept chanting “Narayan, Narayan, Narayan” – the name of our family deity Satya Narayan. But, not once did he take the name of Thakur. Then suddenly he saw a dog trudging along ahead. He asked the cart driver if he was carrying Muri (puffed rice) with him. He replied he was. Dadu told him – “call the dog and throw some muri for him”. He did. The dog came running, sniffed the muri and started trudging ahead again. Some thought struck Dadu and he told the driver – “just follow that dog. Don’t lose sight of him’. He dutifully started calling the dog from time to time. The dog would come, sniff the ‘muri’ and then be on its way again. It continued like this and, following the dog all the way, they reached Panchal. By then the rain too had relented a bit and the wheel tracks were again visible. The rest of the journey was somewhat easier and they finally reached Ichcharia very late at night.

Hurriedly finishing his work at Ichcharia next morning, Dadu started back for Sonamukhi very early the following day and reached in time to relieve the stand-in officer as scheduled. Like other days, Thakur was on His way to the station that afternoon too. And when He was close to Dadu’s quarter, He shouted – “Hey Kuloda, Are you back”? Dadu came out and replied – “yes Thakur, just got back. But I had to undergo a lot of trouble on the way”. Thaakur looked at him quizzically and said – “you had to undergo trouble, Kuloda? You sat in the comfort of the cart under the canopy, while I walked in the heavy rains. And now you say you had trouble”? Dadu couldn’t comprehend His words and asked – “You got drenced? How? I don’t understand’. Thakur smiled and said – “tell me then, who walked in front of your bullock cart in that torrential rain and led you? Did your “Narayan” come to your rescue”? As the fog slowly cleared in Dadu’s mind, tears stremed down his face. Falling at His feet he said – “oh, Thakur, but who can ever know your leela”. Thakur lifted him to his feet and two friends were locked in an embrace.

Blog Post # 34; 18.04.2017

“The elusive answer – finally”: Smt. Bishnupriya Biswas, Bardhaman

(English translation: Tilak Ghoshal)

Jugal Prabhu Kusumharanath’s grand daughter-in-law Smt. Dhira Bandyopaddhay is my elder sister (Didi). Naturally, after her marriage, I have visited Sonamukhi many a time, which has led to an ever-deepening attraction for the Lord and Ma. Even if not on all utsavs and occasions, I continue to visit Bagan and Sri Mandir, whenever I can, to soothe my mind and soul. But I did attend the Lord’s 150^th advent celebrations in 2015 and here I wish to share an incident during it.

The reader might remember that two magazines were published on the occasion. In one of those, Didi had written an article in Bangla, titled – “Thakur’s favourite items”. Based on an exhaustive research, she had listed under various categories of items, the particular variety that the Lord liked the most. On the last day of the utsav, Didi and I were chatting in her house (‘Snehalata’) when someone called out – “is Dhira Devi home’? Since no known person in Sonamukhi adresses her as ‘Dhira Devi’, we were both very curious and came out. There stood an elderly gentleman outside the gate. As Didi introduced herself, he said – “I am Gunamoy Mukhopaddhyay. I have come today to express my deep gratitude to you, as your article in the magazine has cleared a nearly 30-year old lingering confusion in my mind. May I come in for a few minutes”? He came in and seeing the bewildered look on our faces smiled gently and said – “let me explain”. And then he went on to narrate an extraordinary event in his life, which is as follows.

Those days Gunamoy babu was the Station Master of Sonamukhi railway station. It was a small station with just a few Up and Down trains a day. Naturally, the number of emplyees was also quite small. Then there was frequent leave/absenteeism among the staff. Therefore, most days Gunamoy babu had to himself carry out all the chores associated with operation of a train station. That particular 31^st December also happened to be one such extremely busy day. He was very very hungry by mid morning, but such was the workload that he couldn’t even afford to go home for a quick lunch. He was continually shuttling between the platform, the signal room, the exit gate and his office – not a moment for rest. And then in the midst of this a train arrived. He had to now check/collect tickets from disembarking passangers also. While busy with it, he saw an elderly gentleman approaching. Clad in white dhoti and Kurta, his face was adorned with snow-white moustache and flowing beard. He handed over his ticket to Guniram babu and said – “you are hungry, aren’t you? There is this Haranath mandir close by. Today they are celebrating Ananda Milan utsav and everyone is invited for a hot meal. I am going there. Why don’t you join”? As it is Guniram babu was famished and then this mouth-watering proposition! But how could he go leaving all the work?

After some time had passed, he noticed the same gentleman coming towards him again. But this time with a Shaal leaf plateful of steaming food, covered with another leaf plate. Handing over the plate he said – “since you could not come, I have brought you something to eat. Have it”. Deeply touched and somewhat surprised at such an act of kindness of a complete stranger, he looked at Him more closely and suddenly a vague thought ran through his mind. With folded hands he asked – “Who are you sir, who really are you? Kindly tell me and clear my mind”. The stranger smiled and gently patting him on the shoulder, slowly walked away. But he returned after a few steps and handing him over a small envelope, said –“oh yes, take this flower” and went his way again. Gunamoy babu stood there transfixed, his mind unable to fully comprehend the hazy picture that was taking shape in his head. When he had recovered his wits a bit, the gentleman was taking a turn towards the red mud road outside the station. He hurried behind him but by the time he rached the spot, the stranger was nowhere to be seen. Thinking he might be hidden from sight by the hut ahead, he ran towards it. But reaching there he found no one – there was not a soul anywhere, as far as eyes could see. He stood there motionless, overcome with grief of letting go off Bhagawan, who had come to him on his own. Then slowly he removed the envelope from his pocket and found a single rose inside. But rose is never used in any Puja, he thought. Who then was He? Doubt all over again!

He has lived in this light and shade since then. Finally he found his answer, after nearly 30 years, in that article of Smt. Dhira Bandyopaddhay. There, under the heading Thakur’s favourite flowers, was written – ‘ROSE’!

Blog Post # 33; 12.04.2017

“Thakur – the eternal saviour & the ultimate preceptor: Chandan Kana Ghoshal; Kolkata

(English translation: Tilak Ghoshal)

Dadu – our eternal saviour

I am doubly blessed to be the grand daughter of Jugal Prabhu (daughter of Sri Krishnadas Banerjee) and also the daughter-in-law of the great Thakur devotee Sri Sisir Kumar Ghoshal. It has been two years since my husband Sri Sanat Kumar Ghoshal found his final resting place at the lotus feet of Kusumharanath. Here I wish to share with fellow devotees two aspects of Thakur as I have personally experienced or heard first hand from my husband and mother-in-law – one, of the eternal saviour in our worldly life and the other as the Acharya (teacher) par excellence.

Dadu – the saviour: 2 incidents in the life of my late husband

The first incident occurred sometime before our marriage, which my husband to be had written to his father-in-law to be (my father) on a postcard. At the time he was posted in Guahati. One day he had to go for inspection of a tea garden across the Brahmaputra. After finishing his work he was returning to Guahati when the boat he had hired suddenly capsized mid steam. He not only lost his bag and other posessions, even the shirt he was wearing got swept away as fell into the turbulent waters. He started swimming towards the shore, but so strong was the current that he was making very slow progress. Slowly he began to tire – the limbs refusing to work any further, though by now the shore wasn’t very far off. At this time, when he had completely given up, he felt a gentle push from behind that slowly took him to the shore. Who was He who guided him to safety when everything seemed lost?

The second incident was shortly after our marriage. At the time we were living in Rangia (Assam). He had to travel often on official work. That day he set out by train for an inspection in another town. But for reason he could not fathom, instead of the destination station, he got down with all his luggage at the one before that. Anyway, he made alternate arrangement and reached his destination. It was arrival there that he gathered that the train he was travelling in had met with a serious accident a short distance away from where he had disembarked, that killed and severly injured many passangers. What triggered him to get down at that wrong station?

Dadu – the great preceptor (Acharya)

I heard this ‘story’ from my mother-in-law (Ma). Once Thakur had come to Calcutta and put up at the residence of one of the devotees (I cannot recall now which devotee). My father-in-law (Baba) would go there everyday for the company of Thakur and fellow devotees. One evening Thakur suddenly told him –“I will come to your place tomorrow for lunch prepared by my Ma”. Baba was so ecstatic that he immediately rushed back home to convey the news. A wave of joy swept through the house. Very early next morning Baba himself went to the market and picked up bagfulls of all the vegetables there was. At home he delivered a stern order that every item must be cooked and nothing was to be kept aside. Thakur, accompanied by a few devotees arrived in time. As usual, talks and banters carried on, till Ma informed lunch was ready. Then Thakur, alonwith the devotees, went for bath in the Ganga (the river ‘ghat’ is not very far from the house at Bakul Bagan Road, Bhowanipur). An hour ticked by and it was time He should have been back. But there was no sign of Him. Suddenly a poor Brahmin arrived at the main door and called out – “Ma, can you give me something to eat?” Everybody was taken aback and didn’t know what to say. Ater all the food had been prepared for Thakur. How could it be given to anybody before serving Him? Baba seated the Brahmin and requestin him to wait for a while, running in and out of the house every now and then to check if He was coming. But Thakur was nowhere to be seen. It began bothering Baba that the Brahmin had also been kept waiting and he must be hungry. Finally with no sign of Thakur in sight, he asked Ma to serve the Brahmin. No sooner had the Brahmin started eating, Thakur and his entourage returned, joyously and loudly chatting with one another. On seeing my mother-in-law Thakur said –“Ma, we are all very hungry. Let us have all the tasty things you have prepared”. Then He had a hearty meal, heaping lavish praise on every item and asking for more helpings of some……..Once again through this personal example Thakur explained the great significance of ‘Daridra Narayan Seva’. And Thakuma (Kusum Kumari) carried that teaching forward. I have personally witnessed during Ananda Milan Utsavs, that She will not put a morsel in her mouth till the ‘Kangali Bhojan’ was over. And then She would pick up a few grain of left over rice from the heap of used leaf plates and only after taking that prasadam would she eat anything.

“The idols at Sonamukhi & Ma calming my mind”: Smt. A. Jayalakshmi, Hyderabad

(Written by Sri Haragopal Sepuri, based on Smt. Jayalakshmi’s narration)

Live idols of Sonamukhi Sri Mandir

The Murtis of the Lord and Mother at Sonamukhi are ‘Jagrata’ (live, conscious). I was convinced of this even more through a personal experience. The occasion was the Dashera Naam Saptaham in 2003. I, alongwith Nanduri Venkateswara Rao, Nanduri Kusumamba, Nanduri Sampath Kumar, Nanduri Ramani and Indira’s second son Chaitanya, reached Sonamukhi five days in advance and our Satsang started right from the day of our arrival. One evening, as I sat on the ledge of the window near Mother’s idol silently chanting naam, I suddenly felt my body being stung by ants. I opened my eyes and started dusting my clothes. But there was not one single ant. And the stinging sensation was gone too. I could not figure out the reason for it. Anyway, after a while I went and sat near Baba’s idol. Then I suddenly noticed ants all over Baba’s dhoti and kurta. I felt as though Baba’s whole body was being stung by ants and He had rashes all over. I was dazed and lodly called out Kusumamba, who was performing naam japa near Mother’s Murti. She rushed over and I showed her the ants and narrated my experience a short while back of being stung by ants, when actually there was no ant at all! We both stood there speechless. How does anything explain this?

Calming my troubled mind

When my husband was serioisly ill, I used to serve him with the thought that the Lord had entrusted me with the task. Of course I was aware that what I was doing was my bounden duty too. But I had an undercurrent of feeling that because of this preoccupation, perhaps my seva for the Lord was suffering. This thought was troubling me a great deal. Then one night Mother Kusum Kumari appeared in my dream and told me that I was doing both the sevas perfectly and there was nothing more that I needed to do. Saying this she drew me to Her and kissed my forehead. Then She lay down and I began Her Pada Seva. When I woke up, the niggling doubt that had been tormenting me for so long was completely gone and a deep sense of relief calmed my mind…………Though the Lord has never appeared to me in person, I often get indication of His presence, sometimes in the form of a light, acompanied by a beautiful fragrance that would fill the air.

“Ever alert to our minds’ woes”: Smt. A. Jayalakshmi, Hyderabad

(Written by Sri Haragopal Sepuri, based on her narration)

Whom did I see?

Long ago, in the garden of our Hyderabad home, there were many hibiscus plants, yielding beautiful flowers. Whenever visiting Kusum Haranath Mandir, I would collect a large number of them for offering the Lord. In those days Satyavatamma garu used to live in a room within the Mandir compound. She would always keep my flowers aside and shower them on the deities after conclusion of Sankirtan. It was probably the 1980 Janmotsav day of Mother Kusum Kumari and we were preparing to go to the Mandir to attend the celebrations. But when I went to the garden I found only 4-5 flowers there. I was deeply disappinted but gathered whatever was there. On reaching the Mandir, as always, I handed over the flowers to Satyavatamma garu. After a while another devotee came with a basketful of roses. I then sulked in my mind “oh Baba, perhaps because you were to get so many beautiful roses, you granted me only those few”. No sooner had the thought crossed my mind, Satyavatamma garu brought the flowers that I had carried and placed them at the feet of Mother and the Lord and then, turning towards me with a smile asked – “are you happy now?”. Then she went back to her room. But there was something strange in her smile and face that raised my curiosity. I immediately followed her to her room to ask. But she was not there. Those around told me that Satyavatamma garu had gone to the bathroom quite sometime back and had not returned yet! I was dumbfounded. Who then it was who had placed the flowers at the feet of the deities and asked me – “are you happy now?” !!

Answering my question

I had been performing daily seva of the Lord on a photo of His, as instructed by Sepuri Mother (Sepuri Alluramma). I felt a motherly affection towards the Lord (Vatsalya Bhava) and treated Him as my child. However, the question that constantly nagged me was whether my affection was just one-sided or was being reciprocated and He too loved me like His mother. I somehow felt only Sepuri Mother could answer my question, as she would often hear the Lord’s voice. At the time she had been staying at Tirupati, with her daughter Dr. Varalakshmi. Fortunately for me, during that disturbed state of my mind, one day Dr. Varalakshmi came visiting us in Hyderabad. Naturally I confided in her the thought that had been troubling me but asked her not to mention anything about it to Sepuri Mother and just let me know if she on her own conveys any message for me. After Dr. Varalakshmi returned to Tirupati, one day Mother Sepuri said to her that the Lord has told her that I was treating Him like my own child and performing my seva with Vatsalya bhava. Dr. Varalakshmi promptly informed me about this and that removed all my doubts and filled my heart with immeasurable happiness.

“Mercy of the Lord”: A devotee 

(Name of the devotee has been withheld at his request) 

(Written by Sri Haragopal Sepuri, based on the devotee’s narration)

I am an Engine driver in Indian Railways. I came into the Haranath fold sometime in February 2011. Right from the beginning, I used to feel very deeply attracted by Thakur and would attend Naam Sankirtan sessions whenever held in and around Kolkata. Once, a Sankirtan was scheduled for 8th August, 2011 in Haranath School at Bag Bazaar, Kolkata. I was excitedly looking forward to attending it. Unfortunately however, around the same time there was some temporary shortage of Engine Drivers and, therefore, my leave for 8th August was not sanctioned. But my heart was intensely longing to take part in the Sankirtan.

On the 6th morning I was assigned the duty of piloting a local train from Howrah to Chandanpur. I drove the train out of Howrah Station and passed through the first green signal. After a while I do not know what came over me and I passed through the next signal while it was still red ! This is a serious offence which could lead to dismissal from service. As soon as I reached Liluha station, the Station Master came over and informed me about the transgression that I had committed and said it has been recorded in the cabin room. At Dankuni Station, a traffic inspector was assigned to escort me from there onwards. After I reached the destination (Chandanpur), I was immediately called by the office at Howrah and my statement was taken. An enquiry also started the same day. After that I came home. Next day I did not get any call for duty. On the 8th I spoke to the Senior Crew Controller and asked him if I could go to Bag Bazar to attend the Sankirtan. He agreed and advised me to carry my mobile with me so that he could inform me if there was any call for duty. I knew that if I took the ferry route across the Ganges by launch, it would take me about half an hour from Uttarpara to reach Bag Bazaar. Therefore I could also rush back and report for duty in that time, should there be any call. The merciful Thakur thus fulfilled my heart’s desire of attending the Sankirtan session.

                  But Thakur’s mercy did not end just there. After the official enquiry, no charge sheet was also framed even for that grievous mistake and except for keeping me off-duty for about a month, no serious punishment was meted out to me ! I even received my full salary for the period ! Thereafter I started receiving regular duty allocations as earlier……To date I am still not able to understand how all these miraculous things happened one after the other ! My merciful Thakur gave me a taste of His infinite mercy right at the beginning of my attraction towards Him.

“Helping hand of the Lord during my desolation”: Smt. A.Jayalakshmi, Hyderabad

(Written by Sri Haragopal Sepuri, based on oral narration of Smt. Jayalakshmi)

I and Dr.Varalakshmi of Tirupati were classmates in a Guntur College . Their family is devotees of Haranath. That is how I got introduced to Haranath, though I had darsan of Mother Kusuma Kumari when She visited Chennai in 1937. In those days parents of Dr.Varalakshmi (Sepuri Lakshminarasayya and Sepuri Alluramma) used to treat me as their own daughter. Even today their children also treat me as their eldest sister. I could not properly understand their affection in those days. After some days, (in 1944) during holidays I went along with Dr.Varalakhsmi to their home at Kalahasti where her father was working as Deputy Inspector of Schools. From there I wanted to go to Erode to my father’s house. I saw a locket of the Lord with Dr.Varalakshmi. I wanted to have one like that one. I also wanted to have a japamala. Suddenly brother Haragopal Sepuri brought a small japamala and gave it to me. It is still in my possession. He was just 10 years old at that time. After staying in their house for a few days, I left for my father’s place by train.

On Tirupati railway platform, I saw a boy selling the lockets of the Lord. (Usually Lord’s lockets are not sold on Railway platforms like general Merchandise.) I bought one. Keeping the locket in hand while I was musing, my purse was lost. In those days I had to change the trains at Katpadi. The money was in that purse only. After getting down at Katpadi, I just stood on the platform with a vacant mind. One gentleman (Satyam) was talking to a tall gentleman in the railway compartment. I was just looking at them. That gentleman mentioned the name of my uncle, Ethirajulu Naidu. After the train left, that gentleman came to me and enquired where I had to go. I asked him whether he knew Ethirajulu Naidu. He said that he was very well acquainted with him. Then I told him about the loss of my ticket and purse. He asked me not to worry. He made me sit in the waiting room and went and brought a ticket for me. I borrowed Rs.5/- from him for my journey expenses and assured him that I would send the money by Money Order. I took his address.

Thus I felt the presence of the Lord during the train journey. After reaching home I remitted Rs.5/- by Money Order to that gentleman (Satyam). I received back the Money Receipt, but the signature was not legible. After some days when I happened to meet my uncle Ethirajulu Naidu, I enquired about that gentleman (Satyam). My uncle told me that he did not know any such person. Then who was it that came to my help in my state of desolation? I realized that it was no other than the Lord.
Kusumahara
(Comment: This happened when Smt.Jayalakshmi was 18 years old. Now her age is 90.)

“Kusumharanath – our eternal deliverer: Dhira Bandyopadhyay, Sonamukhi

(Grand daughter-in-law of Thakur & Ma)

(English translation: Tilak Ghoshal)

It was 1965. We were then vacationing in Bombay. My son was arounnd 4-5 year old at the time. After spending a few days in Bombay we travelled to Pune and put up at the house of Sri. B.D.Vohra – the great devotee of Thakur and Ma. After a couple of days there, everybody very enthusiastically planned a trip to Mahabaleshwar. Though I too should have been as excited about the trip to the hill station, I could not quite fathom why the idea didn’t quite appeal to me. Little did I know that the reason for that was to unfold soon …….The evening before we were due to leave for the trip, my son suddenly developed severe throat pain. A local homeopath was called who, declaring it as ‘infection’, gave some medicines, assuring us all will be fine. But contrary to his prognosis, the child’s condition actually started deteriorating and by late night he had developed severe breathing difficulty, along with bloating of the stomach. The sight of him tossing about in agony was unbearable and all I could do was cry my heart out to Dadu and Ma. It was evident from the look on the face of others that they too were seeking divine intervention.

With his condition progressively worsening, around at dawn break someone called up the doctor of the local ‘Jahangir Nursing Home’. On hearing the symptoms, the kind doctor immediately rushed to our place on his scooter and the moment he saw the patient, he could only mutter – “Quick, quick…. it’s already quite late’. I stood there like one in trance. The doctor ordered me to sit on the pillion of his scooter with the boy and drove at breakneck speed, asking Sri Vora to take his car out and follow. At the nursing home he quickly administered two injections. Others had arived by then and he declared that it was an acute case of diptheria and unless the boy was operated upon immediately, it would be difficult to save his life. And then he broke the other devastating news – that no hospital or nursing home within the city limits was allowed to treat diptheria cases and the patient would have to be immediately shifted to a designated hospital far outside the city. I wondered how could both be done simultaneously – transfer him immediately, but to a far away hospital! With my mind having gone completely numb, I simply followed others to the car like a walking corpse, with the boy in my arms. But our trouble hadn’t yet ended. When we reached the car, the driver was nowhere to be seen. As everybody scrambled around to locate him, I stood still, faintly aware how precious minutes were ticking by. Then suddenly I saw a large number of people in white jackets walking in through the nursing home gate. We overheard someone saying that a conference of some renowned doctors from Maharastra had earlier been scheduled at another venue but that had to be cancelled at the last moment for some reason and only the previous day it had been decided to hold that in this nursing home! Then, from amongst them a middle-aged doctor suddenly walked over to me and asked – ‘What’ is the matter ma’am? What’s wrong with your child?’ I was in no state even to respond to him and as I stared blankly at his face, the nursing home doctor hurriedly briefed him about the case. He then glanced at my son and shouted – ‘His condition is extremely critical. Get the OT ready immediately” – and saying this, he rushed the boy in to the OT – ignoring all rules and protocls. It was evident to me instantly that Dadu and Ma’s another leela was at play. All my anxiety vanished instantly a deep sense of calmness descended in my mind. The operation was a complete success and my son received a new lease of life.

But how could all those incredible things happen one after another – the kind hearted doctor rushing my son to the nursing home and administering the very vital first injections……the conference venue getting shifted at the last moment to this very nursing home……….the surgeon going out of his way to operate on him, disregarding all rules……Who made such miracles happen?…………….I realised afresh how my compassionate Dadu and Ma just cannot turn a deaf ear to the cries of the helpless and the suffering……And, after the surgery when the doctor said – “Don’t worry, we are there”, it was as if to remind me of the famous reassuring words in Thakur’s bhajan – “Ami re toder kachhe niti achhi pachhe pachhe: (“I am with you every step of the way”).

Witness to the entire saga, as it unfolded, were great Kusumhara devotees such as Sri. Krishnadas Modi, Sri. Madhavdas Modi, Sri. B.D. Vohra, Sri P.B. Vohra, Smt Jaya Modi and Smt Rasika Modi. And this brought about another realisation that also because in that period of crisis such great devotees surrounded us, the Lord had to Himself come for our deliverance. Aren’t devotees His soul?…….And I was reminded of that Bengali couplet: “Great is the devotee who never lets go of the Lord’s lotus feet; Great is the Lord who never deserts His children…..And, in a moment of madness if the servant were to ever stray; Great is the Lord who pulls him back by his hair”………. Hail my Lord. Hail His devotees.

“Baba (Thakur Haranath) – my unfailing safety armour”: R.G. Prakash, Bangalore

In my life I have had the great fortune of experiencing our Baba’s love and fatherly care many many times. These have not only provided me immense joy, but also the confidence in facing all odds. I feel He is always by my side every moment and every step of the way. It is beyond my capacity to put to word most of these experiences. So, let me share with fellow devotees a recent small incident.

On my return from Sonamukhi Naam Saptaham in October 2016, I felt physicaly very unwell. I called up dear Kishor, who took me to a hospital for check up. After evaluating the X-ray report, the doctors suspected pneumonia and I was admitted to the ICU. As my condition improved a bit, I was shifted to the general ward 3 days later and was finally discharged after 2 more days. At home, I felt fine for the first 2 days and could move around the house and have my usual food. But after that I started experiencing severe physical discomfort and could not sleep one whole night. In the morning again Kishor took me the hospital, where the doctors were shocked to see in the X-ray plate the quantum of phlegm accumulated in my lungs. They assessed my condition to be so grave that they asked my USA based son to retrun immediately. He arrived by the earliest flight he could get. The doctors informed him that my condition was potentially life threatening, especially in view of my age, and that even though the treatment would be expensive they still could not guarantee my survival. Given this background, he was advised to think over the matter thoroughly and decide quickly. My son told them of our faith in God and asked them to proceed with immediate treatment.

Treatment procedure went on in the ICU for 15 days and my condition gradually improved. One day in the ICU, when I was feeling a little better, I wanted to get off the bed and sit for a while on a wheel chair kept by my bedside. I requested a nearby male nurse for help. He gently and methodically put me on the chair. I sat for about an hour and then, feeling a little tired, wanted to get back to my bed. But I the male nurse was not around at the time, and therefore I sought the help of two sisters. They stood on either side of the chair and with my one arm on the shoulder of each I tried to stand up. But, I had no idea how weak my legs were and that they were moving in opposite directions. As a result, my entire body weight abruptly fell on the two sisters and all three of us were on the verge of falling over very badly. Just at that moment a senior sister appeared out of nowhere, lifted both my legs and in one gentle sweep, put them on the bed and I managed to sit. After adjusting my position I looked up to thank the sister, but she was gone. I asked the other two sisters who she was, but they didn’t know. We subsequently checked with other staff members too, but none could identify anyone matching that senior sister’s description. I now had no doubt my Baba had come to my help in the garb of a woman. He is with us evry moment of our existence, only we often fail to recognise Him. By His love and grace I have now fully recovered and except for some protein powder and vitamin tablets to overcome weakness, I also need no medication now.

“Easing the burdens of our minds”

Written by: Tilak Ghoshal

(Based on the narration of a devout Haranathite)

In the evening of my life, the Lord has lovingly put me in touch with a few true Haranath-pran devotees, which have evolved into bonds of the soul. I am in frequent touch with some of them through phones or emails and the interactions on Thakur and Ma are enriching me immensely. During one such recent telephonic tet-a-tet, a devotee shared an exceedingly beautiful experience of his daughter-in-law, which I am narrating below. However, in deference to his wishes, I am not disclosing the names of either.

Post her mariage, the girl was naturally exposed to the world of Kusumharanath at her in-laws’ place, and experienced first hand how deep love and devotion towards the Lord and Ma ran in every family member. She was surely destined to be a part of the Lord’s devotee family (“I will choose my own flock”, He had said), as she too felt deeply attracted and took to Kusumharanath like a duck to water. She heard and read about Thakurji and could internalise His emphasis on constant chanting of Krishna naam. But this is here she had problem. At the back of her mind was a niggling question as to how does one worship a ‘God’ (Krishna) who took 16108 wives. As an educated modern woman, she found that hard to accept and this caused a great deal of confusion and doubt in her mind. And then it happened. Very recently the son of this devotee called him uup, excitedly informing him that his wife has had an extraordinary experience that morning and wanted him to hear it directly from her. When she took the phone to speak to her father-in-law, she was yet to fully ‘recover’ from the after effects of the incident. What she narrated to him in a quivering voice is as follows:-

She was engaged in her daily puja that morning too, though her mind was troubled by her usual thought of Krishnaji taking so many wives. After a while she suddenly felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Startled, she turned her head to see who it was and was numbed in mind and body to find Lord Haranath standing behind with a smile on His face. Then, pointing to the photo of Krishna’ji on the puja stand the Lord told her in a soft voice – “Ma, He and I are the one and the same”! And then He was gone – just as suddenly as He had appeared. She sat motionless in a trance like state, body trembling life a leaf in the wind, unable to believe her eyes and ears. But also gone in a flash were her doubt and confusion.

It is important to note that this lady is a well-educated, senior level professional in a reputed organisation and frequently travels within and outside the country alone on her work. In short, a thinking, self confident, intelligent woman with a questioning mind and modern outlook. Perhaps that is the reason Thakurji had to be so emphatically overt and straighforward with her, instead of subtle hints that He uses for some. Amazing are the multitude of ways the crazy one employs to suit the different frames of minds of His devotees. No ‘one-size-fits-all’ principle. He lovingly takes care of individual needs of individual minds in His own way. And that’s what makes Him so endearingly unique.

“Our eternal guide”: Experience of Late Bijoy Krishna Banerjee [Grand son of Thakur]

(Written by Tilak Ghoshal, based on narration of Smt. Dhira Banerjee)

The incident that I am about to narrate here is based on Dhira mami’s recollections that she shared with me recently and is about an extraordinary personal experience of her late husband Sri Bijoy Krishna Banerjee – our Biju mama [grand son of Thakur and Ma]. I am making it public now post whole-hearted consent of Dhira Mami.

Mama was a little quick tempered by nature and those he genuinely loved often bore the brunt of it. He held the strong belief that the immediate task before the devotees was to start activities in right earnest to propagate Kusumharanath name far and wide, so that thosands of people outside the fold could also benefit from THEIR love, grace and shelter. However, over a period of time he felt most of the devotees were spending time only on bhajan, kirtan, singing, dancing etc and there was little inclination or enthusiasm for that ‘real’ work of the Lord. This led to a sense of deep frustration growing in him. As a result, whenever any devotee visited Sonamukhi and met him, it invariably ended with Mama reprimanding him very harshly. These interactions would leave Dhira Mami not only hugely embarrassed but also with the overpowering fear of some disaster striking her family because of such treatment of the Lord’s devotees. Mami would often plead with Mama not to behave so rudely with them and he too perhaps used to regret it. But such was the extent of his despair at the Lord’s work (as he saw it) not progressing, that he would often fail to have a hold on himself.

Mama, Mami and their son (Rana) used to stay on the ground floor of that familiar ‘Bisher bari’ – the two-story mud house just across haranath santi kutir. There were two neat rooms, a small verandah and a patch of garden in front. It was on this verandah that they met all visitors and friends. The incident I am narrating here took place in this very ‘Bisher Bari’ – sometime in 1980 or ‘81. After dinner one night mama said he wasn’t feeling sleepy yet and wanted to sit for a while in the verandah before retiring. Mami, therefore, went off and was soon asleep. Next morning Mami observed Mama to be not only unusually quiet but very distracted and unmindful too. Sensing something was very seriously wrong, she kept pushing him to share with her what was weighing his mind down so heavily. After initially dismissing there was anything at all, he finally relented and said – “something extraordinary happened last night” – and then proceded to describe it (as follows)…….

As he sat on a chair in the verandah, the night grew darker and, save the chirping of crickets, there was absolute silence and stilness all around. He wasn’t sure how long it had been, but suddenly felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned around but couldn’t discern much in the darkness. Then, just as sudenly, he felt warm breathing near his ear. As he struggled to make some sense of it, a soft voice whispered in his ear – “Baba, why are you bothering yourself so much with my naam prachar. Stop worrying”……. And then everything was gone in a moment – the hand on the shoulder, the warm breath and the whispering voice – just as they had appeared……

Since that night and till his death, Mama had not spoken another word on THEIR naam prachar !

“Karta Ma’s loving grace”: Pallab Mitra (Bulbul), Kolkata

(Pallab is the grand son of devout Kusumharanathit Sri. Lalgopal Mitra – ‘Lalu dadababu’ to older devotees)

(English translation: Tilak Ghoshal) 

Over the last four generations, every member of our family has known Thakur Haranath and Ma Kusum Kumari as Karta Baba and Karta Ma respectively (‘Karta’ meaning head of the family). My grand father (Dadu) Sri. Lalgopal Mitra was very dear to Karta Ma. He addressed Her as Didima (grand mother) and She called him Lalu. Ma’s love and affection for Her Lalu was as unbound, as was his total devotion and complete surrender at Her feet. The incident I narrate here is one that I heard directly from my grand mother (loving ‘Kapu’di to older devotees of all ages).

Dadu used to work as cashier in Bird & Heilgers – that renowned British company of those days. Once Karta Ma was travelling to Bombay by the evening train. Dadu finished his office work and rushed to Howrah station to see Her off. Many other devotees from Kolkata and neighbourhood had also assembled there for the same purpose. Lots of chatter, banter and laughter filled the air. But as soon as the train was about to start, Karta Ma suddenly ordered – “Lalu, board the train”. Dadu was caught completely unawares at this command. Hesitatingly he muttered – “But Didima, I have the office cash box key with me and unless I hand it over to someone, work will be badly affected. Moreover, abstaining from work without authorised leave will not be viewed kindly. I am also not carrying any money nor any change of clothes. How do I go, Didima? Karta Ma said – “I have told you to board the train, haven’t I? That sealed the matter. Without any further if’s and but’s Dadu quietly got in the train. But the thought of such act of ‘indiscipline’ in an organisation like Bird & Co and his very stern English boss kept bothering him and he mentally braced for losing his job. And when a fellow devotee informed my grand mother about his departure to Bombay, she was crestfallen at Dadu acting so ‘irresponsibly’, wondering how she would feed so many mouths at home, now that he was sure to lose his job too.

Anyway, after about 10 days Dadu returned to Kolkata. Worried stiff at the impending mouthful from his stern English boss and at the prospect of summary discharge, he somehow reached office the next morning and quietly took his seat at the cash box. Time went by – yet neither his superior called him nor any of his colleagues mentioned or asked anything about his sudden and long absence. Even though this was causing some discomfort, a sense of relief was also simultaneously creeeping in him. By and by the whole day passed like any other, and nothing untoward happened. Not only was there no question of losing his job, there was not even a single query, even out of curiosity, by anyone as to where he had been all the while. It was as if he had not been away at all! Dadu then realised that during the entire period of his absence everybody had seen ‘another’ Lalgopal Mitra at his desk !! ……..What a charming way of showing devotees that no harm will come their way if they take refuge at our Jugal Prabhu’s lotus feet !! Jay Sri Kusumharanath…

“Swami (Baba) – our eternal protector: Smt. V.S.Sanath Kumari, Bangalore

(Translated & edited by Tilak Ghoshal. Being posted after approval of the tex by Smt. Sanath Kumari)

In post no. 15 of kusumharaleelas.com blog site I have already introduced myself briefly and shared with fellow devotees a few leelas of Swami (Baba) in our lives. Today I wish to narrate two more incidents that clearly show how closely He is watching over and protecting us at all times.

Incident – I

One evening my husband and I were returning home on his scooter. The traffic was very heavy at the time. In that crowded street suddenly we noticed a cow coming towards us from the opposite side. There was no way of avoiding a collision, as a part of the road was blocked with iron rods kept for repairs and there was heavy traffic flow on the other. The inevitable collision meant we would be thrown off the scooter and crushed under the wheels of the heavy vehicles. Imminent death stared us in the face. Then, at the very last moment, the cow suddenly moved sideways over the iron rods as if someone very strong and powerful had taken her by the horns and pushed her aside. Yet, there was no one in the vicinity of the cow! We were completely dazed at this miraculous escape from the jaws of certain death. Even today, whenever I recall that incident, my eyes fill up with tears of gratitude to Them. I now regularly do ‘pada seva’ of Ma and Swami. Because in the process of rescuing Their devotees from all kinds of dangers all the time, won’t They feel a little tired and Their hands and feet be aching? That’s how I feel.

Incident – II

Once six of us – my borther/sister-in-law, elder sister/brother-in-law, my husband and I – took a holiday trip to Singapore. Unfortunately, on arrival there, my husband suffered a stroke at the airport itself. The doctors there attended to my husband and advised immediate hospitalisation. We were completely shaken and bewildered – stranded, as we were, with a stroke patient in an alien land and with limited cash in hand. We understood he needed to be hospitalised, but what could we do in a foreign country, where we knew no one and language barrier was a major communication challange? Anyway, we somehow convinced the doctors that we would return home by the next available flight early morning and get him admitted in India. Return bookings were hurriedly arranged and our seemingly endless wait for the morning started. All we could do in that state of mind was to carry on with our inceassant ‘Kusumhara’ naam japa through the night, praying to Swami to restore my husband to normal health.

As the night wore on, we observed some movements in him and his condition seemed to be improving gradually. And, to our utter amazement, he had fully recovered by daybreak. How could a stroke victim recover fully so fast and, that too without any major medical intervention?  Swami’s leela was at full play again right in front of us. The extent of my husband’s recovery can also be judged from the fact that not only did we carry on with our trip, we also visited the ‘Sentosa Island’ here he climbed the steps all the way to the top in a park, without any trace of fatigue. This experience has probably changed me as a person more than His numerous other leelas in our lives. This one enabled me take more rapid strides in the path of complete surrender at the lotus feet of Ma and Swami. Their love and affection for Their children knows no bound….

“Fulfilment of Balaji darshan desire”: Shyamali Chatterjee, Bankura

(Daughter of the Lord’s grandson Sri. Basanta Kumar)

(English translation: Tilak Ghoshal)

It was 2012. My younger son, an engineer in the Chennai office of TCS, had bought a small apartment near Tambaram station. I, along with my husband, sister, borther-in-law and their two little daughters had gone there for the ‘Griha Pravesh’ ceremony.

One day we all took an early morning bus to Tirumala for darshan of lord Balaji. On arrival at the temple we bought the ‘special’ darshan tickets and queued up with hundreds of other devotees for entry. After we had proceeded in the queue for a while, we learnt that cameras and cell phones are not allowed inside the temple. Though we did not have any camera, my sister and I were carrying our cell phones. We thought it will be enough if we just switch off the phones and keep them in our hand bags. We did so, feeling a little bad at being deprived of the opportunity of taking a picture of the deity. Little did we know that our darshan itself was going to be in jeopardy shortly! The queue advanced at the usual snail’s pace and after sometime we found ourselves close to a check point where people were being frisked by security staff with metal detectors. We were scared stiff. To get stuck there because of the phones would be the end of our hope for the darshan. But there was no time to think and – as is the habit when faced with any trouble – the mind started chanting ‘Kusumhara’, ‘Kusumhara’…..To our utter surprise we just cleared the checking without the slightest problem! Though hugely relieved and happy, we just couldn’t figure out how the metal detectors couldn’t pick up the presence of the phones.

Anyway, around 10 at night the main gate opened and the queue surged forward – all loudly chanting ‘Govnda, Govinda’….. But as we neared the entrance, we realised we were in for deep trouble. There was yet another check post at the final entrance and security was so tight that not a fly could escape. Each and every person was being thoroughly frisked and made to pass through a metal detector frame, before being let in. We had absolutely no chance ! After so many hours of jostling in the crowd and perspiring in the oppressive heat, the hope of darshan was rapidly evaporating. I could take it no more and started crying, with the ‘Kusumhara’ chant only growing louder. The two little girls of my sister started crying too, with naam on their baby lips. It was so near, yet so far for us. Then I told my prabhu’ji – ‘You say I am with you every step of the way. Then do get us through this obstacle too, Prabhu’ji and allow us a Darshan”…..

We then noticed a growing restlessness in the crowd and there was some jostling and commotion near the entrance. And at that very moment a group of Sadhu Babas appeared just at the mouth of the gate. I do not know what prompted us, but we just sprinted through the middle of that group and the detector frame to deep inside the pathway to the sanctum sanctorum and melted into the crowd. Though the commotion provided us cover for escape, the metal detectors didn’t fail this time and started beeping loudly the moment we ran through the frame. it. As a result, the inocent sadhu babas were stopped for a more rigourous check. I am not sure of the quantum of sin we had committed, but we were overcome with such deep sense guilt that we hid in a corner and watched the proceedings at the gate from a safe distance. After frisking each of them from head to toe, the security staff found nothing, and they were let in. Awash with huge relief, the pang of the guilt subsided a little bit…… And, finally, our long standing desire of Balaji darshan was fulfilled by the grace of our Lord.

I offered my pranams at the feet of dayal Prabhu and sought His forgivness. Even today we remember what a close call it was. That our dayal Prabhu is with us every step of our way gets reinforced with every psssing day. May my mind never waver from Their lotus feet, is all that I pray to them.

“Back from death throes – our Lord, the eternal saviour”

Hareshbhai Zaveri, Mumbai

It was 1968. I was 22 and my younger brother Pradeep about 10 years old at the time. He used to commute to his school by the family car. One day as the car had gone for servicing, he was returning home by a taxi. After some distance he noticed a bus coming from the opposie side, and as it approached the taxi, the bus driver suddenly lost control and the bus rammed into the taxi head-on, at full speed. The taxi driver was killed on the spot and Pradeep, who was sitting right behind him, was very grievously injured. His skull suffered fractures and by the time he was rushed to the hospital, he was in coma. As if things were already not bad enough, he was also vomitting and the stomach material was choking him. Therefore, putting everything else aside, the doctors had to do first and immediately carry out a Tracheotomy (i.e. making an opening on the front of the neck and insert a tube to create a direct airway to the windpipe, so that the lungs have air supply). Besides the fractures in his skull, he had multiple fractures in various other parts of his body too. To further aggrevate matters, his heart stopped pumping twice during the medical procedure itself. The doctors somehow managed to revive him on both occasions. It is easy to see how perilous Pradeep’s condition actually was. Though the doctors worked very hard, they clearly had absolutely no hope of his survival. But my mother, Rukmini Devi, steadfastly refused to accept the ‘reality’ – such was the depth of her faith in Thakur’ji. As operation after operation was conducted on Pradeep’s body, she simply sat outside the operation theatre for three days straight, without even a sip of water, just carrying on with her incessant Naam japa – ‘Kusumhara sharanam mama, Kusumhara sharanam mama”.

On the fourth day and after multiple surgeries in different parts of his body, Pradeep was finally moved to the intensive care ward. Though doctors were themselves amazed at his miraculous physical survival, they knew it could be a badly impaired ‘existence’ for him, given the extent and severity of the injuries. But here too, my mother would have none of such dark thoughts and was certain that her son would lead an absolutely normal and happy life…….

One year later, she took Pradeep to Sonamukhi for pranam at Sri Mandir. Not only did my brother survive that certain death situation, he led an absolutely normal life thereafter and is now a proud grand father of two lovely children. What do we – the subjects of His kingdom – have to fear or worry about?….. Jay Sri Kusumharanath…

“Lord – our guardian angel”: Arpita Mitra, Kolkata

[Arpita is the grand daughter-in-law of devout Haranathite Sri Lal Gopal Mitra – ‘Lalu dadababu’ to many senior devotees]

I wish to share with fellow devotees a small incident that reminds me of Thakur’s Bangla bhajan – “Ami re toder kache niti aachee pache pache, Barek pagol bhebe koris smoron” [“I am for ever with you every step of the way; just remember this Pagal from time to time……”]

I cannot recall the exact date, but it was in May 2015. My son’s class-12 board (ISC) exam result was due to be published that day. But it also happened to be the day he was to leave (accompanied by my husband) for admission councelling at a University in another state. My son was naturally quite anxious to know his exam result. We too were checking the board website frequently, but the result had still not been posted by the time they were ready to leave for the station. As the train departure time was drawing closer, my husband suggested that I look up the result when it is posted and convey them over phone. I don’t know what happened to me but I stubbornly refused to do that, saying it was the boy who had put in all the effort and that he must see the result for himself first. Because of that they waited till the result was put up and left after reading the marks.

I anxiously waited at home for their call to be assured they had boarded the train. After a while I realised it was well past the train departure time, yet there had been no call from either of them. Frantically I tried calling both alternately, but it went unanswered each time. Intutively I knew my worst fear had come true. I panicked and started praying (though I can’t recall what exactly I said in my prayer). After a nervewracking hour or so, my son finally called – only to inform that they had missed the train and that my husband was furious at being delayed in leaving home because of my stubboen insistence. A chill ran down my spine at the thought of my son missing out on college admission. My mind went blank and I broke down completely. But, while I cried and cried, the mind never stopped chanting the sweet name of Karta Ma and Karta Baba (that’s how Thakur and Ma are addressed at my in-laws’ place – ‘Karta’ meaning head of the family).

As I sat there completely blanked out, the phone rang again after an hour or so. This time my son at the other end informed me that they had managed to get reservation in another train that was to leave in a short while. A wave of relief and joy swept over me, quitening down my mind. I again and again expressed my profound gratitude to Karta Baba and Karta Ma for answering my prayers and coming to our resue. But it was only on their return home two days later that I could truly gauge the true extent of the near impossible situation from which THEY had extricated us. After having waited for the exam result at my insistence, they already quite late. To add to their woes, taxis were also hard to come by – it being lunchtime. Finally by the time they managed to reach the station, the train had already left. My husband had imediately rushed to the booking office and showing them the university councelling letter pleaded for booking in some other train, only to be told there was no vacancy in any other train to their destination that day. He was completely lost and did not know what to do next. After a while he felt being prompted and egged on to try again. He went back to the same booking clerk and appealed again. Something happened this time. The clerk re-checked all his charts and unexpectedly informed him that just two berths were available in a train that was to leave in half an hour. My husband immediately bought the tickets and they boarded the train. That’s how my son finally got his seat in the college and is now pursuing his studies.

What do I call this? Could it have been possible If THEY are not watching over or protecting us all the time? Aren’t we, the devotees, enormously blessed to be the receipents of the boundless love of Karta Baba and Karta Ma. Let me end with that sweet chant: Joy Haranatha joy Kusumkumari joy”…

“Devotees’ Bhagawan Kusumharanath”: Smt. Mau Das, Kolkata

(English translation: Tilak Ghoshal)

My mother’s family had been Kusumharanath devotees for many years. Since childhood I have witnessed puja of Kusumharanath jugal murti at my parents’ place. Though formal celebration was limited to two days in the year – Maha Ashtami during Durgotsav and Ma Kusum Kumari’s birthday 16^th December – my mother would carry on with naam chanting all the time. But since she passed away when I was quite young, I could never make it to Sonamukhi dham. While those childhood memories remained fresh in mind even after my marriage, what I sorely missed was a Kusumharanath jugal photo and the association with THEIR Kolkata based devotees. One can quite easily obtain murtis and photos of many a great saints and aposotles but since any form of promotion is forbidden in our Haranath community, THEIR photos are much harder to come by.

In 2007, my life was being ravaged by a series of familial and circumstantial issues. I was being tossed around like straw caught in a strong current and was desparately trying to hold on to something to stady myself. Never before did I feel the need for a jugal photo as much as at that time – just to stand in front of it and cry my heart out to THEM. One day I remembered my aunt (mother’s sister) had once mentioned that when in Calcutta, Kusum Kumari Ma would often stay in a house in Palit Street. I requested my husband to try there, but his response was that in a city like this it is impossible to locate a house just by the street name. Whatever little hope there was seemed to be vanishing. Finally, in a huff, I told Thakur – “From this moment on I stop seeking your photograph. If You indeed are bhagawan of your devotee, You will come to me by Yourself” !

In the midst of all the turmoil I was somehow managing to attend work regulary. I would board a mini bus from Ekdalia Road that would take me to my office. Then one day, less than a week after my ‘outburst’ to Thakur, I boarded a bus, and as I looked in front, I was stunned by what I saw. On the windscreen, in large letters, were written the words –“Jay Kusum Haranath”! I immediately put the bus ticket in my handbag and on return home in the evening told my husband everything and handed him the carefully preserved ticket. Using the phone number printed at the back of it, he contacted the bus owner Sri. Ashoke Ghosh and enquired if he could help me in getting a jugal prabhu photo. He himself couldn’t, but gave the address and contact number of someone else, who turned out to be none other than Sri. Swaraj Dutta from the Haranath devotee family of generations. And, as luck would have it, he happened to be staying very close to our place. Without wasting anymore time we met him at his residence and I finally received my object of desire – the jugal photo!! Not just that. He also introduced me to the Kusumharanath parivar in Kolkata, which has now become an integral part of my life. …… Through this experience was born my conviction that THEY know exactly when a devotee’s heart aches and reach him/her at the right time. The all-loving can never fail to respond to the yearnings and love of THEIR devotees.

“Lord’s words  (‘I shall choose my own flock’) coming true”: Shyamali Chatterjee, Bankura (Daughter od the Lord’s grandson Sri. Basanta Kumar)

(English translation: Tilak Ghoshal)

It was sometime in May 1976. My husband Sri. Tarun Chatterjee, had been selected for a training course at NSNIS, Bangalore. Though he immediately bought train ticket for the journey, his name was 115^th in the reservation wait list – a near impossible position for confirmation. Even till the day before the journey there was not much improvement in the status. We were all very despondent over the looming prospect of his missing out on the course that would be so helpful for his career. Anyway, with a mind laden with anxiety, he set out from Bankura (where we lived) for Kharagpur, where he was to board the train. Since our marriage my husband had been very deferential to Thakuri’ji and Kusum Kumari Ma. I just told him to keep chanting Their name. He reached Kharagpur station in time and waited for the train with a fluttering heart and wondered what he should do after he is told he cannot board it. And, in any case, it was impossible to travel without a reservation, given it was a long, 2-night journey.

Sometime later the arrival was announced and in a short while the train chugged in to the station. With Kusumhara on his lips, he rushed to the nearest TTI he could find and anxiously asked if he stood any chance. The TTI checked his list and totally unexpectedly said – “yes, your reservation is confirmed. Please board coach number such and such…… Awashed with huge relief and excitement he ran, boarded the coach and took his allotted berth. While his joy knew no bounds, he also wondered how he could be so lucky – that wait list position 115 gets confirmed !! Anyway, after dinner he spread out his bed-roll to retire for the night. Perhaps because of the sudden release of such a huge tension he fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow…….Suddenly, late at night, he sees in his dream Thakur’ji standing with a smile on His face and jokingly admonishing him – “What is this Baba? Don’t I deserve even a simple Thank you?”….. My husband woke up with a start. With folded hands he sought Prabhuji’s forgiveness and offered his pranams to Him again and again………..Since then my husband is a changed person. Now it seems He is more devoted to Them than I am. Didn’t the Lord say He will choose His own flock?…….. May our minds never waver from Their holy feet is all that we pary….Sri Kusum Haranath.

“Lord – the eternal saviour”: V. Subbarao, Vizag

(Text: V. Subbarao & Tilak Ghoshal)

On 22nd of Nov 2015 I visited Hyderabad to attend the wedding marriage of a relative. My wife Kusuma could not travel and stayed back at vizag. At Hyderabad I put up with my cousin, who lived with his wife in a house on a corner plot. The prospective bridegroom was the nephew of my cousin and the wedding was to take place the following day. So on the day of my arrival, my cousin, his wife and I went around and met other relatives in the city and returned home around 7-30 PM. After dinner the three of us – all over 70 years of age – talked on the glory of our Lord and discussed about my book “The Divine Glory Of Lord Haranath” till about 11 PM and then went to sleep – my cousin and his wife in their bedroom and I in the guest room.

At around 2-30 AM I was suddenly woken by loud shrieks of my cousin’s wife – “thief, thief, thief…” Both my cousin and I rushed out of our respective rooms to check out. After going through every nook and corner carefully, we realised the intruders had already escaped. But what we observed around us was very alarming……. A small patch of the net on a window in their bedroom had been nicely cut to make a small opening…..The main doors (front and rear) were ajar…….the key bunch containing the key to their bedroom steel cupboard (which contained all the valuables) lay on a flight of steps. This bunch also carried the keys to the front and the rear doors of the house. My cousin’s mobile phone had been taken from their bedroom and was lying on the divan in the living room. A long cylindrical pillow from the same divan had been brought over to their bedroom and lay beside the bed, apparently to smother my cousin or his wife should either try to raise an alarm………. It was obvious the miscreants had spent a good deal of time inside the house and had gone about their work very systematically……..First they had made the small opening in the window net, through which the key bunch (lying on a stool near the bed) was drawn out – probably using a magnet tied to a rod – and then they used the keys to open the two main doors……Then they must have picked up the mobile phone and brought over the round pillow near the bed…………But what completely baffled us was why and what made them run away despite everything being in place for a smooth burglary ! Except perhaps being unaware of the presence of a third person (me) in the house, they had everything else under their complete control – the main doors were wide open for easy escape…they had the keys to the cupboard to take out all the valuables…..they were ready with the round pillow to kill in case any one woke up……..Yet, in spite of everything being to their complete advantage, why they just bolted from the scene, leaving everything behind !! After we had secured the place again, my cousin, who is a great devotee of Hanuman’ji, said to me – “your Baba Haranath has come to our home along with you. It is He who today saved us from not just theft but our lives too” !! He then urged me to share this incident of Baba’s grace with other devotees. I am extremely delighted to be doing exactly that through Chy Tilak on the website kusumharaleelas.com … I also shared the incident the following day with dear Madhuri and Geetaben.

The words that ran in my mind after the incident was – “they came to kill, but ended up giving us thrill” ! More glory to our Lord and to HIs Name. My humble prsyer to Him is that may HE be always by our sides …….Pranams to all devotees.

 “Pulling me back from the brink of disaster – yet again”: Tilak Ghoshal, Kolkata

Having lived away all my work life, Kolkata looked like the place to settle down after retirement. With our daughter and son both based in other cities, I started looking for an apartment in Kolkata, good enough for just the 4 of us – my parents, wife and myself. But deep within I also had a secret thought – how nice it would be if the apartment were also to have a small study – where I could read/write and spend sometime with myself !!………. Anyway, this was just a ‘thought’, not an absolute must. We looked at quite a few apartments, but none was suitable – either the locality was not right, or the shops/markets were too far off…..or the price was beyond my budget.

Then, one day a property agent suggested an apartmen which, he said, I will surely like. I went to have a look – and it was ‘love at first sight’ !! It perfectly met all our requirements. But, more than that there was something else that mesmerised me……..There rose from the corner of the living room an elegant wooden staircase, spiralling up to a spacious, well-ventilated study !! Wasn’t this exactly what my ‘secret thought” was? The only question that crossed the mind briefly was how the price of such a great place could be so modest. But then so charmed was I by the prospect of ‘owning’ an exclusive study that the mind didn’t want to be bothered with such a ‘minor’ issue. So as not to let this ‘golden oportunity’ slip by, I told the agent that I will be back the same evening with my parents and wife and if they approve, I will pay the advance then and there and seal the deal.

We all reached at the appointed hour in the evening. Barring some small issues about the kitchen that Ma and my wife raised, there was consensus that we could go ahead with the apartment. The seller’s agent suggested that I pay an advance to seal the deal. With the lure of the study so overpowering, I immediately took out the cheque book to write out the advance amount. But the moment I began writing, electricity supply went off and it was dark all around. We were assured that the back-up generator will kick in and power will resume soon. And indeed it did. But the moment I got ready to write the cheque again, this power went off too. The seller’s agent was slightly embarrased. When power returned after a short while and I proceeded to complete the cheque, my mother said – “Let us skip it now. It seems Thakur doesn’t want this done today”. Frankly, so overcome was I with the fear of losing out on the study that I was little annoyed at this fresh interruption from Ma. Sensing my eagerness, the agents also told Ma almost in unison – “Mata’ji, this is just coincidence. Do not worry about this’. It was then that my father, who was never given to offering unsolicited advise to anyone, said to me – “since your Ma is hesitating, let us postpone the payment for another day”….. I regained my senses at his words and it was agreed the advance payment would be made the following week.

The very next morning I spoke to one of my oldest and closest friends about the flat. After hearing a very broad description of the flat, he began asking a number of questions related to it. I was quite puzzled why he was getting into all these details. Then he told me to hold on for a day or two so he can make further enquiries. I was a little irritated that Ma and this friend of mine are dimming my prospect of landing that ‘study’ !! But what option did I have except wait?

That very evening my friend called me with this stern warning – “Tilak, don’t touch that flat even with a barge pole. It belongs to ******* (here I refrain from naming the gentleman. Suffice it to say that he was the Kolkata head of a global religious organisation). He told me that the property was mired in scandals, disputes and court cases and the owner was now trying to palm it off. He also added for good measure that given the high social standing the gentleman enjoyed, there had also been plenty of very adverse observations and comments about him and the property in the press and TV the previous year……….. Thereafter I made my own enquiries and discovered that every word of what my friend had said was wholly true and if I had proceeded with the flat, I would have lost a large chunk of my retirement fund – because the flat could never be registered in my name !!……I continue to wonder to this day why the light went off twice that evening, just when I was about to write the cheque……what made my mother ask me to skip the advanceme payment….what prompted my usually reticent father to suggest postponement of the booking to another day…….how did the mere mention of flat ring the alarm bell in my frien’d mind and he could vaguely recall some old irrelevant news about the property that he had heard a year back ??!! ……..Jay Borobaba. Boroma……..

Many leelas of Swami (Baba) in our lives: Smt. V.S.Sanat Kumari, Bangalore

(English translation: Sri. V. Subba Rao & Tilak Ghoshal)

Before I share with my fellow devotees some of the many Leelas of divine Mother Kusum Kumari and Swami (Baba), I think it will be in order for me to briefly introduce myself. My name is Viralam. S. Sanat Kumari and my husband is Virala. N. Srinivas. We live in Bangalore. I am the proud daughter of Sri. S. Satyanarayana Shetty, who reached the lotus feet of Lord Vishnu on a Baikuntha Ekadasi and Smt. S. Navaratnamma, who left for her heavenly abode during Naam Japa, with the Japa Mala in her hand. In my childhood I used to write the ‘panchakshari’ (the 5 words -‘Ku’ “Su’ ‘Ma’ Ha’ Ra’) and would often ask the Lord to make me a ‘crore-pati’ with Naam Dhan (i.e. enable me to write the ‘Panchaksari’ one crore time). Baba made this possible by introducing me to brother (late) Vema Reddy of Rajahmundry, who initiated me and my sister (Uma Rani) into the ‘Kusum Hara Koti Naam Yajna’ (group of devotees who are on the same path). Now I am treading that path and the Lord is fulfilling all my desires and guiding me at every step in life.

Experience – 1

Once we were passing through a very diifficult phase faced in life, including ill health. Over time, I felt so dejected that one day I prayed to the Lord – “Swami, I am no more interested in life. Please take me away”. I prayed and cried inconsolably. Within a few days of this, I came by a magazine, where I read Lord Haranath’s following words: “Lord Krishna is taking care of you and considers you as His own. If you cry like this and lament for nothing, don’t you think you are causing Him great pain? Should you even entertain such thoughts?”……..I instantly knew that message was meant for me. He was answering me – through consolation and a mild rebuke! I regained my senses and said to Him – “Baba, please pardon me for having caused you pain through my thoughts and words. I will never again express any desire that pains you. Please grant me the strength of mind to face all difficulties squarely. Just hold my hand and lead me, Baba’….. Ever since then I feel Baba is with me at all times and is guiding me at every step of my way – infusing me with confidence and courage to face this earthly life.

Experience – 2    

Once I was suffering severe knee-joint pain. We met one Dr. Raju, who gave some medicines and within a few days I was relieved of the pain. I was so grateful that I thought in my mind – “These doctors are really noble and holy souls. They bring so much relief to the suffering”. And what do I read the same day in a magazine on the Lord ? He saying something like this – “Crazy woman! It is not the doctor who provides relief. It is Me in the garb of a doctor who actually relieves you of your pain”! I was overjoyed at He addressing me as ‘crazy’. Who will not be delighted to be called the ‘crazy’ child of the ‘crazy’ Lord? Swami (Baba) has answered me so promptly so often that it has only reinforced my belief that He is always with me. His compassion towards me is the mainstay of my life.

Experience – 3

As I have mentioned earlier, my elder sister Uma Rani is also a great devotee of Mother and Swami and she too had joined me in the ‘Kusum Hara Koti Yajna”. Once, for some reason, she was unable to participate in the ‘Naam Saptaham’ at Bangalore. She felt so miserable and so depressed at this that lying on the cot she was lamenting her ill luck and crying. Suddenly she saw the Kusum Kumari Devi standing near her head. Divine Mother , who gently tapped her head and said to her – “Why are you crying at not being able to attend the saptaham? See, I am with you here – look at me’…..and then She slowly melted away from sight ! My sister was thrilled beyond words at her great fortune of having the darshan of the divine Mother. She says that experience is beyond description……..I too crave for the privilege and joy of having Their darshan. When will I be granted that Lord – just one darshan? I urge You Swami to keep me immersed in Your Naam Japa and allow me the taste of just one drop of Your Premamrut……

The divine Mother and Swami willing, I will share with you all a few more instances of Their immense love and grace for me in the days ahead.

Blog Post # 14; 07/08/2016

Earning a livilihood – the incident that made it all possible: Shankarbhai Mehta, Bharuch

(Edited by Tilak Ghoshal and being posted after approval of the text by Shankarbhai)

I began my work life in 1972 in Bank of Baroda, Bharuch branch in the clerical cadre. My father had passed away many years before this and my mother had been running the household with her megre earning through domestic work in others’ homes. I thought with my job I would be able to take care of the family and my mother will not have to work anymore. But fate dictated otherwise and I lost my job just after a few months. I felt totally helpless and despondent.

But, providentially, the previous year (1971), a close relative had told my mother that she had been visiting Bharuch Pagal Haranath Ashram every Tuesday and that by Thakur’s grace her son had been able to secure a job. So my mother also started the same practice and I accompanied her to the Ashram every Tuesday. Fortunately for me, I had the great privilege of meeting Param Pujya Kaka, Sri. Narmada Shankar Trivedi’ji during our very first visit and on the same day he told me how powerful chanting Thakur Haranath’s name was. One day Kaka mentioned about Sunday Kusum Haranath bhajan kirtan in the Ashram and I began attending that also regularly. With those Tuesday and Sunday visits I drew closer to Kaka and benefitted immensely from his advice and talks on Thakuri’ji. So, when I lost my job at the bank I turned to him for guidance. He just told me ‘don’t worry. Thakurji is there’. And that one inspiring sentence changed the course of my life.

Within a few months of it, there was a NIBM (National Institute of Bank Management) examination for selection of clerical staff for government banks. I appeared in it but failed to make the grade. My last hope was dashed. I was heart broken again and did not know what to do with my life. And it is then that a ‘miracle’ happened. For some completely unknown reason, NIBM cancelled the earlier examination and conducted a fresh test. This time I managed to get through and was appointed in a temporary post. After 3 months I was required to appear for a personal interview for appintment in a permanent position. Though I was grateful to Thakurji for the temporary job, I was deeply worried whether the past record (loss of job at Bank of Baroda) would affect my prospect during the interview. But Kaka told me to forget about the past and just carry on with Kusuharanath name chanting of. With Thakurji’s grace yet again and Kaka’s timely advice I got through the interview also and was appointed in a permanent grade as a Cashier in State Bank of India, Valsad branch. Thereafter, I served a total of 32 years in the bank before retiring as an Asst. Manager. With this I have not only met all my family responsibilities but, with the handsome pension that I now earn, I am able to lead a comfortable life, taking the holy name of Prabhu Kusum Haranath. I shudder to think what would have happened had that first NIBM examination not been miraculously cancelled and I had not got a second chance ! That was one of many instances of Thaurji’s immense grace in my life.

Blog Post # 13; 04/08/2016

“My first day to work after prolonged illness”: Bhaswati Chakrabarty, Durgapur

English translation: Tilak Ghoshal

I am a government school teacher and a resident of Durgapur. From 2004 my work place was the primary school in Gopalpur, a remote village in Bardhaman district. It was an arduous daily journey. From Durgapur I had to take a local train to Talit – seven stations away. From there a bus to another village – about 6 kM away – and then a cycle riksha ‘van’ to reach my destination – another 4 kM from there. On occasions when no ‘van’ was available, I would either walk all the way or hitch a ride on someone’s motorbike. In all it took me about 12-13 hours everyday to get back home. Seven years went by like this.

In 2011 I fell gravely ill and had to be shifted to Vellore for treatment. Because of this, I could not attend work for months and by the time I was well enough to take the rigors of travel to the school, 5 months had already gone by. Finally, it was my first day to work after such a long absence and it was crucial for me to reach in time. My husband accompanied me to ensure I had no difficulty on the way. But we had little idea of what lay ahead. On reaching Durgapur station we learnt to our dismay that the local train we were due to take, had already left. If I were to wait for the next train, I would be late to work on the very first day by over 2 hours and face the music. Not knowing what to do, we stood there helplessly, with just ‘Kusumhara’ on our lips. After a short while a long-distance Express train arrived. But with the local train tickets that we had, this train was out of bounds for us. If we were to get caught, our destination will be the police lock-up instead of the school. Moreover, being an Express train, it would also not halt at my destination station Talit but at Bardhhaman, one station further down. That meant, even if we took it, we would again have to find our way one station back to Talit – and consequent delay. But left with no other option and mind numbed, we boarded the train. Too scared to even look around, I headed for the empty seat in front and sat there with my eyes tightly shut out of fear of getting caught – just continuing with ‘Kusumharanath’ name chanting. I don’t know how long it was before I felt the train was slowing down. Thinking we were approaching Bardhaman station, we went to the compartmen door to disembark as soon as it stopped. But on looking out I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was not Bardhaman, but actually Talit – my destination station – approaching slowly! Before I could think any further, the train reached the platform and stopped. We immediately got down and just then the train started moving again – as if it had stopped just for us !! With mind filled with amazement, awe and gratitude I stood there for a few moments and paid my obeisance to my Thakur. There was no further problem with the bus and riskshaw ‘van’ thereafter for the rest of the journey and I made it to the school dot on time and saved myself the huge embarrasment of being late.

My totally hassle-free travel by an express train, the train’s absolutely unscheduled brief halt at my destination station and consequently my reaching work place in time – how could all these events fall in place so beautifully ?…….This was just one of so many instances of His grace in my life. If He permits, I will share those too with fellow devotees some other time.

Blog Post # 12; 28.07.2016

“Thakurji’s advent centenary celebration”: Rathindra Madhavdas Mody, Pune

I clearly remember the date. It was 26th of June 1965. About 15 of us from Bombay were travelling to Sonamukhi, to attend the advent centenary celebration of our beloved Prabhu Haranath. Many many years before this, Vimala Ma had got a white marbel statue of Thakurji sculpted by Talib – the well-known sculptor of Mumbai. Her plan was to build a temple in Borovili (suburb of Mumbai) and have it installed there. But, for some reason, that did not materialise. Therefore, when we were going for the centenary celebration, Vimala Ma requested my father (Late Sri. Madhavdas Mody) to carry the murti with us and have it installed at Sonamukhi Sri Mandir. Accordingly, the murti (the one that we see today at Sri Mandir) – weighing about 860 kg – was securely packed by professional packers and was placed in the brake van of our train with the help of just 4 coolies. Two workers of Talib also accompanied us to instal the murti. Our plan was to disembark at Asansol station and then take a truck for the murti and 2-3 taxis for us, for onward travel to Sonamukhi.

In due time on 28th morning the train arrived at Asansol and we were delighted to find Thakurji’s two grandsons – Biju Mama and Tulu Mama (Sri. Bijoy Krishna & Sri Tulsidas Banerjee respectively) waiting at the station to receive us. They had already arranged the truck and the taxis for us. My father deployed 4 coolies to unload the statue from the brake van…. But no matter how hard they tried, the statue just refused to move…Then he deployed 2 more people, but still no luck. In desparation more people were engaged but the statue simply won’t budg even by an inch…. Slowly it was time for the train to depart and the Guard was telling us continually to hurry up. But with the statue not moving even one bit, all our efforts were proving to be futile. Finally the Guard lost his patience and started screaming at my father, telling him that the train cannot be delayed further for us and that he should collect the statue from Howrah station (the final destitaion of the train)……My father, who was already chanting ‘Kusumhara, Kusumhara’ got very upset with Thakurji and said in his heart – ‘It is for you that I have to listen to all these”. And the moment he said that, the statue began to slide and finally came out smoothly without a hitch! And just 4 collies could then carry it to the truck via an over bridge! Thakur always enjoys a prank or two with His children…..

We reached Sonamukhi Sri Mandir around lunch-time. But instead of a festive mood, we found everyone there very anxious…. We learnt that there had been no rain in Sonamukhi for many days and the water level in Ananta Kund and the wells were running very very low…..They worried how to manage cooking, washing and bathing of the large number of devotees to arrive from across the country….Everyone was praying for Thakuriji’s intervention. And granting their wish, suddenly rain started the very next day (29^th) and soon turned in to a very heavy and uninterrupted downpour…..There was huge relief and cries of joy all around……….But next day (30^th) the mood again turned sombre, as the wind and non-stop rain had not only completely destroyed the temporary kithen structure, the supplies (grocery, vegetables etc) and other cooking items too could not arrive. Now everyone was woried how food of so many devotees over 4-5 days could be aranged. With ‘Kusumhara, Kusumhara” again on everyone’s lips we went to bed that night. But lo and behold – when we woke up next morning, (1^st July), it was bright and sunny all around. Anant Kund too was brimming with fesh water !! The kitchen came up again, the supplies started coming in and the centenary celebration was a grand success !!

“Bringing my son back from jaws of death”: Shyamali Chattopadhyay (Labha)
– daughter  of Thakur’s grand son Sri. Basanta Kumar Bandyopaddhyay (kotu babu)), Bankura
(English translation: Tilak Ghoshal)

Even though it is nothing short of audacity for an ignorant like me, I cannot resist the temptation of sharing with fellow devotees two instances of Prabhji’s and Ma’s grace in my life.

First incident:

This was sometime in April 1974 at Bankura. One night I dreamt that after offering puja at Sri Sambhunath Mandir in Sonamukhi, I was massaging thakur and Ma’s feet. Simultaneously I also found myself offering puja to Gopal (at the time I was not into Gopal puja). After a while I could see Gopal no more. Instead a beam of light began emanating from His throne. All these visions rolled in one after another. Then my sleep was abruptly interrupted and I immediayely woke my husband up and told him everything I saw. A few days after this incident I happened to be visiting Sonamukhi (my parents’place) and narrated every detail of that dream to my aunt Atasi (wife of Sri. Tulsidas Bandyopaddhay). She was more of a friend than an aunt to me. After hearing out everything she forbade me from sharing it with anyone else. That very month I conceived my first child. A short time after this Atasi aunt brought me a Gopal murti from Puri. Since then, Gopal has been part of my daily puja of Thakur and Ma. I feel like a mother to Him.

On 27th November afternoon that year, I began having labour. By evening I was admitted to the Bankura Hospital. The labour pain started intensifying and I kept murmurring the only mantra I knew – “kusumhara kripa koro, Kusumhara kripa koro”. But when I could bear it no more, I said to Them – “forget it. I will not call you again” and started screaming the usual line every woman in labour does – ”oh Papa, oh Mama…”. But when that did not bring any relief either, the mind automatically went back to Kusumharanath naam. It is then that I thought I saw Ma Kusum Kumari standing near me. But Her face was very serious, very grim.

Late that night at 1-30, my son was born – preamture birth by nearly two months. Only his face resembled that of a human being. The rest of the body was all bones and ribs, like a pink skinned bird. And, in that drowsy state of mine, I could hear the doctors and nurses telling each other that such a premature baby had little hope of survival. It is then that it crossed my mind why Ma Kusum Kumari had appeared so serious and grim earlier. I left his fate to Her, telling myself it is only She who can either save the baby or take him away…..For one full month he remained wrapped in cotton pads……..And then the same boy grew up bit by bit, completed his engineering and MBA and is now working as a senior manager in a large reputed company…..At least I know whose grace made it all possible !!

Second instance

When my same son was about 2 years old, he was down with severe dysentery one day. Initially we put him on the traditional barley water feeding schedule. But his condition did not seem to be improving. On the 3rd afternoon day his body started taking a bluish tinge and he appeared to be collapsing. As soon as my husband returned from work, both of us ran out for a doctor and proper immediate treatment. But, as luck would have it, we couldn’t find a single rikshaw that afternoon. So panick striken were we that with “Kusumhara kripa koro” on our lips and wailing, we just ran all the way to the chamber of Dr. Ajit Nandi. I don’t know what he thought after checking the baby but told us to get him admitted to the hospital right away. I fell at the doctor’s feet, crying and pleading with him to take up the treatment himself.

Some time before this, we were fortunate to develop a strong bond with the family of advocate Sri Hangsagopal Nandi – the second son of Sri. Akinchan Nandi, one of Thakur’s greatest devotees. Both Hangsagopal babu and his wife Lalita Devi were very affectionate towards us and treated me as their own child. My husband and I addresed them as Jethu (meaning father’s elder brother) and Jethima respectively. On Jethu’s request, Dr. Nandi agreed to treat the boy at home himself and also arranged a nurse. Alongside his treatment, continued my husband’s and my japa of the only mantra we knew – “Kusumhara kripa koro”. Jethu and Jethima also stayed back at our place that night to provide emotional support and reassurance.

By the grace of Prabhuji and Ma, the condition of my son started improving gradually. On the fourth day late afternoon, the baby was on my lap. Dr. Nandi, the nurse, Jethu and Jethima were also present in the room. Suddenly I thought I saw Ma Kusumkumari Devi near my son. At that very moment Jethu quickly went out of the room. Then he called out from there – “No further need for worry. Ma is with your son”…….The most surprising thing was that except for Jethu and I, no one else present in the room could see what we saw. When Jethu returned to the room he said ecstatically – “my life’s purpose has now been fulfilled today”……..After my son recovered fully, Dr. Nandi told us – “in his recovery there certainly was a divine hand. Today I have learnt that there is something profound beyond medical science”.

A few days later we took our son to Sonamukhi Sri Mandir to offer puja and pay our respect to Prabhuji and Ma………. Today my joy knows no bound at being able to share with others these two instances of Their limitless grace in my life. May my mind remain anchored at Their holy feet at all times is all I pray.

“My father’s death anniversary episode”: Soumitra Mukherjee, Durgapur

(Written by Tilak Ghoshal based on Soumitra’s oral narration and is being posted in this blog after his approval of the text)

My father Sri. Rameswar Mukhopaddhyay (son of ‘Menku” – Thakur’s eldest grand daughter) passed away in September 2010. My Dada (elder brother) Subrata and I managed to conducted the rituals to the best of our financial ability….Time roled on and before we realised, almost a year had gone by and the date of the ‘Batsorik Kaj’ (the very important first death anniversary shraddh) was approaching fast. Thakur has endowed Dada with a melodious voice (from which he derives enormous satisfaction singing the Lord’s songs) but not any sustainable means of a regular earning. And my own meagre income is from selling insurance policies. Therefore, as a family, we were financially not well off. But notwithstanding this, we brothers were keen that our father’s ‘Batsorik Kaaj’ be conducted in a manner that will be emotionally satisfying to our mother. We kept asking how she would like the ‘kaaj’ to be conducted and if she had any specific wish but, knowing our financial capacity, she would leave it to us to decide. After a lot of pursuasion we finally had a broad sense of what she really wished. I told Dada that the ‘Kaaj’ must be done as she wished and that we will see how to manage the expenses later.

Those were brave words, but I hadn’t a clue as to how the money would be arranged. One day I suddenly met a gentleman whom I had been unsuccessfully trying to sell an insurance policy over the previous few months. I believed it was the best suited policy for him, but he was undecided. When I met him this time, I raised the matter again. I don’t know why, but he asked me to meet him at home. I did so without wasting much time. He informed me that he had decided to take the same policy. All paper work were completed and the policy was activated, thereby netting me a handsome comission ! This helped us could conduct the ‘Kaaj’ just as our mother had desired !!

Every aspect the ‘Kaaj’ went off very well. After the last of the guests had left, I sat down to relax a bit. Then with a ‘paan’ in my mouth I said in my mind – “Lord, from the way You got everything done, I think I now know at least 1% of You and Your ways”. But even before the complete sentence was finished in my mind, a piece of ‘supari’ got stuck in my throat. I tried every possible trick, but it stayed stuck. I began to choke. And then it stuck me and I cried out within – “Lord, I apologise for my audicious thought of knowing 1% of You. I promise such a thought will never cross my mind from here on. But do please get this ‘supari’ out, else I will choke to death”…..The moment my mind finished the sentence, the ‘supari’ piece came out without any further fuss !!

Blog Post # 9; 04.07.2016 – “Baba Seth’s cigarette episode” – Hareshbhai Zaveri, Mumbai

(Written by Tilak Ghoshal, based on Hareshbhai’s oral narration and is being posted in this blog after his approval of the text)

It was 1955. At the time I was a boy of 9-10. The mid-size tumour on Mathusri Kusum Kumri Devi’s right forehead was growing in size and some puss had begun to ooze too. Immediate surgical resection was considered necessary. My grand father Late Tribhovandas Bhimji Zaveri desired that the treatment be carried out in Bombay where medical facilities were better. On obtaining Mathusri’s consent for the same, he and my father Late Mangaldas Zaveri proceeded to Sonamukhi to accompany Her to Bombay, along with a few of Her family members (including Tulu dada).

Within a few days of Her arrival, she was admitted at Bombay Hospital where surgeon Dr. Govardhandas, removed the tumour. However, to ensure due and regular post-operative care, She was requested not to travel back to Sonamukhi for the next 6 months. On Ma agreeing to it, a wave of joy travelled through the heart of everyone at the very thought of having Ma amidst us for 6 months. She, along with Tulu Dada and others stayed at the Zaveri House – at the time the joint household of the extended Zaveri family.

It was pure festivity during Her stay there. Everyday 100-200 devotees would arrive from farflung places – especially from the South – for Her darshan. And nobody was allowed to leave without having prasad and a meal. The kitchen ran 24×7 those six months. Besides daily Puja and arati, Ma would give audience to all, for hours on end in the large hall. One of the daily visitors was a 60-65 year old gentleman by the name Baba Seth who hailed from Vimala Ma’s family. He would come, take his place on a sofa that was directly underneath a framed photo of the Lord on the wall and sit quietly all through.

Baba Seth was not of sound mind. He spoke very little and kept to himself……But he really loved his smokes. However, because of his condition, the doctors had forbidden him from smoking and his family members strictly ensured that…….That day, like any other, he was sitting quietly on the same sofa under Thakurs photo on the wall. When I happened to pass by him, he held my hand and signalled for a matchbox. I was just a 9-10 old boy then and knew nothing about his condition or why he wanted it. I just went in, fetched a matchbox and gave it to him. After a while devotees noticed Baba Seth had lit a cigarette and was puffing away to glory!! His wife was aghast and started asking who had given him the cigarette or the matchbox. I confessed to having given the matchbox but told very clearlyI had no idea of the cigarette. It is then that a child of my age, sitting among the devotees, shouted out –“I saw the cigarette falling on fell lap from that photo” – pointing to the framed photo of the Lord on the wall overBaba Seth’s sofa…….A pindrop silence ensued !!

P.S. Many years back Tulu dada had told me that while Ma was at Sonamukhi, an elderly lady had visited Ma and told Her about the agonising pain she was undergoing because of a tumour. Surprisingly, sometime after this her tumour vanished completely by itself and around the same time the one on Ma’s forehead started growing !!

“Boroma’s [Kusum Kuari Devi’] Janmotsav at Bankura” – Jayasree Chakraborti [Daughter of Chandan Kana Ghoshal], Kolkata

[English Translation: Tilak Ghoshal]

I think it was 2006. My husband Arun and I had accompanied about 8-10 devotees from Kolkata to attend the advent ceremony of Boroma (Kusum Kumari) at Bankura. It takes about 4-5 hours by train from Kolkata (Howrah station). I had made reservation for the onward journey but, for some reason, couldn’t get it done for the return leg. I thought there would be so many of us and we will somehow ‘manage’. But Arun is never comfortable with such bohemian ways with train travels and said to me a couple of times – “should have got the return reservation done too. We might land up in trouble’. But finally he gave up, as I wasn’t paying much attention to it. Just to reassure him I told him not to worry and that Thakur will take care of everything.

On arrival at Howrah station on the appointed day, we were thrilled to find so many friend devotees already waiting for us. Arun also looked relaxed. We all boarded the train – full of excitement – and took our seats in a cluster. Tea, coffee and snacks that we had carried was put to good use amidst happy chatters and banters…….Then began the inevitable bhajans of Thakur in unison – one after another….And, what a blissful environment it created…Some co-pasengers tapped their feet for a while and then also joined in. Time just flew

It was winter and therefore pretty dark when we arrived at Bankura station. Thanks to the organisers of the Utsav, a few volunteers were waiting to receive and take us to the venue – which turned out to ba a big building. The large auditorium in it was the main function area and the other spacious rooms had been set aside for stay of outstation devotees.

For the next three days it was unadulterated joy for the 600-700 assembled devotees. Right from the crack of dawn to late night, it was all puja, aarati, bhajan-kirtan and devotional dance-drama – interspersed with heart touching discussions on Kusumharanath. Add to that anecodte sharing, variety of tasty meals all day and the endless flow of tea/coffee – and you get a broad picture of the joyous atmosphere. It was pure bliss…..

With the celebrations coming to an end, it was time for us to leave on day-4. After thanking the organisers profusely and with heavy hearts we, the Kolkata devotees, set out for the station on 5-6 rickshaws. On the way we heard about some major disruption in train services. My heart sank at the thought of Arun’s fear coming true and I prayed desparately that the news not be true. I looked at his face from the corner of my eyes, trying to assess his mood. He had just recovered from a cerebral stroke and it would be disasterous if his blood pressure were to shoot up in anxiety. On arriving at the station I was further distressed to learn that my prayer had not been answered. There was indeed a massive disruption in the services. Adding to my enormous tension was the fact that we did not even have any reservation…. Arun, by nature is quite calm and blessed with the ability to adjust to most situations. But this was troubling him. Since our devotee friends know him quite well and were aware of the recent stroke, they tried their best to keep him distracted….

As the day rolled on, my anxiety kept growing too. With ever increasing number of potential passengers, the station was also getting very very crowded……. After a long wait, finally we saw a Howrah bound train approaching the station. But as it chugged in, the sight of the jam packed compartments passing by made me increasingly despondent. We had absolutely no hope of getting in……. But, as the train came to a complete stop, there was this empty compartment right in front of us! I couldn’t believe my eyes, as the vacant seats invitingly beckoned us……. How could it be, when all other compartments are chok-a-bloc? Then we thought it must be reserved for the railway staff. Assuming this, a few amongst us went to try their lucks in the packed compartments. But it was inconciveable for me to do that with Arun. The departure time of the train was closing in rapidly and I still hadn’t a clue what I should be doing. Then someone from us said – ‘let’s board that vacant coach and see what happens next”. Board we did, but I was under constant fear of an official coming any moment and getting us off it. As we waited anxiously, the train slowly started moving. Some respite, I thought, at least till the next stoppage…….. We sat with bated breath as the train stopped at the next station – the platform as crowded as it was at Bankura. But, surprise of surprises, here too no one entered our compartment – like it didn’t even exist……Then at the next – and the next, it was the same. Everybody was ignoring our compartment and trying the others…… Moreover, there was still no sign of anyone coming to get us out! Arun began to relax more and more with every passing station…….And we finally reached our destination – Howrah station – in just as much comfort as in a reserved coach !!…….

It is then that free of mental stress I bagan to wonder with a clearer head as to how this was possible. How could a potentially disasterous situation could so completely turn on its head! ……..And then it all began to sink in – and my heart was filled with a divine joy…. My eyes welled up and all I could mutter was “Jay Kusumharanth ki jay”…….. I couldn’t express my gratitude – Just sought Their forgivness for still failing to let go of things and surrenderring completely to their eternal and unbound love !!

“Dadu’s (Thakur Haranath) pranks on His birthday” – Chandankona Ghoshal, (THakur’s grand daughter), Kolkata

(Translation: Tilak Ghoshal)

Dadu (grand father – Thakur Haranath), please forgive me my audacity. What can I talk about you? But when Bapu (Tilak Ghoshal) started pleading with me, I thought why not share with devotees those two pranks I was personally witness to on that birthday of yours in Sonamukhi ! This small piece is about that.

I was then about 8-9 years old (must be around around 1939-40). Along side grand ‘janmotsavs’ elsewhere, Dadu’s birthday used to be celebrated on a modest scale at home in Sonamukhi also, just as a member of the family. Like every year, that year too on His birthday (18^th Ashad), my mother (Gulima or Gauri Ma to the world) wiped the large framed photo of Dadu, rubbed bath oil on the photo, gave it a bath with a soap-soaked towel, washed it off with a wet cloth and finally ‘wiped Him’ dry with another towel. She then put chandan tika on ‘His forehead’ on the photo and began ‘combing’ His hair. As she did this, all of us suddenly noticed a strand     of grey hair caught in the tooth of the brand new comb!! At that age I didn’t quite understand divinity and all that stuff, but remember being quite dumb struck at what I saw !

The same afternoon lunch was seved to Him on a large thali placed before the same photo. It was quite a spread. After sometime, my mother (Gulima/Gauri Ma) went in, wiped His lips on the photo and placed and few paans on a small plate in front of it and left – to distribute the prasad and oversee lunch of others. In the flurry of activities everybody forgot that Dadu’s post-lunch favourite ‘555’ brand cigarette had not been kept along with paan! We were all busy eating when suddenly the aromatic smell of cigarette began wafting out of His room ! And it was then that everybody realised the slip up !!

“My father’s last journey”: Haragopal Sepuri, Chennai

I shall narrate the incident of my father’s demise to demonstrate how the Divine comes to our rescue in times of adversity. My father passed away on 11.11.1986 at 11.00 hours in his 89th year at Cuddapah in my brother’s house. On that day I was at Srinagar on office work. We were three officers constituting a team sent to gather information for Neyveli Lignite Corporation. Since we were moving from place to place, for any information from office, we had to periodically contact our Head Office through telephone. There were no mobile phones then. Therefore though the message of my father’s death reached our Delhi Guest House, it could not be communicated to us.

On 11th we left Srinagar Airport around 2 p.m. and reached Delhi Airport by 4 p.m. Since we were not sure whether there was accommodation for us in our Guest House in New Friends Colony, we arranged for accommodation in the State Bank Guest House in the same colony. We reached this Guest House by 6 p.m. After checking into the Guest House, we immediately proceeded to our Guest House to enquire about the news from Neyveli. Our General Manager who had come there on official work, immediately exclaimed, “Haragopal I have some bad news for you.” It immediately struck me that it must be about my father. I asked, “Sir, is it my father?” He said, “Yes.” He then asked me to cut short my further programme and proceed home.

I had only open Air ticket for Madras. It was now 7.15 p.m. The last flight, which was non-stop, to Madras was at 8 p.m. Our Liaison Officer at Delhi volunteered to give me a lift to the Airport. We reached the Airport by 8 p.m. In the normal circumstances, the Madras flight should have left by 8 p.m. To my utter surprise and delight, on this day the flight was delayed by two hours for unknown reason. Because of this there were many cancellations and I got confirmation for this flight, a miracle again.

I went to the Telegram counter and issued a telegram to my brother at Cuddapah, which read, “Haragopal has already left for Cuddapah.” The counter clerk assured us that the telegram would reach Cuddapah by 8 a.m. the next day. The Boeing reached Madras Airport around 1 a.m. I hired an Auto rickshaw and reached the Chennai Bus Stand. I got into the first bus to Tirupati around 5 a.m and reached Tirupati by 9.30 a.m. I then got into the Cuddapah bus around 10 a.m. and reached Cuddapah by 2 p.m. I went straight to my brother’s house. It was locked. The neighbour woman informed me “Your father’s body had been taken to Rayachoti at 5 a.m for burying in the yard behind the Sri Kusuma Haranath Mandir there. Your wife had come from Neyveli and we handed over the telegram that you had sent from Delhi. She has left for Rayachoti.” I thought that it was highly improbable that my brother would expect me who was 3000 kilometres away. I caught a bus bound for Rayachoti and reached that place by 4 p.m. To my surprise and utter delight my brother was waiting for me. What a wonder!

For proper understanding of the reader, let me explain the miracle aspect here in a little more detail. The day my wife received the news, she sent a telegram to my sister at Tirupati, informing her she would be going to Cudappah the next morning by bus to attend the last rites. She had no idea that the mortal remains would be taken to Rayachoti early next morning. She travelled from Nyveli to Chitoor, from where she took another bus to Cudappah. This bus travels to Cudappah via Rayachoti, where my brother and nephew were waiting to receive her. The most surprising thing was that when the bus stopped there neither my brother/nephew saw my wife, nor my wife saw them. Had they seen each other, she would have disembarked at Rayachoti itself and would never have received that telegram from the neighbour and, therefore, could not have infotmed my brother of my arrival later in the day !!……Anyway, she reached Cudappah, found the house locked, got all the information from the lady (neighbour) and immediately headed back to Rayachoti and handed over the telegram to my brother, who was still waiting for her at the bus stand !! It was then that m brother decided to wait for me till 6 P.M. Could all these have been possible without divine intervention?

When I stood before the body of my father, emotions overpowered me. Tears flowed down my cheeks. I was certainly not weeping out of any sorrow. Those were not the tears of sorrow; they were the tears of gratitude. To this day I feel grateful to the Lord for having given me the opportunity to be present at my father’s funeral, the father who was the source of my body, gave me protection, was the ideal and guidance of learning in my life. If the Lord were to appear before me and offered a boon, I would request Him to bring my father before me so that I may wash his feet with my tears of gratitude. Those tears have not disappeared yet; they keep appearing now and then.

A seat in the bus – Haragopal Sepuri, Chennai

I am not able to recollect the exact year but it was late 1960s when only two State Transport buses were plying between Madras and Neyveli Township. Neyveli is located 200 km south of Madras. In the mornings the two buses leave Neyveli for Madras, and in the evenings the buses leave Madras at 6.30 p.m and 8.00 p.m, for Neyveli.

I had been to Sonamukhi, the birth place of Haranath, to participate in the Nama Saptaham held in the Sri Mandir during the Puja time. Totally it was a strenuous journey of two weeks, 2½days onward journey and 2½ days return journey. For my return journey I had made reservation in the Howrah-Madras Mail. The train reached Madras by 6.30 pm on that day. I was dog-tired and wanted to reach home to take rest. I proceeded to the Bus Stand. The 6.30 p.m bus had left and the 8 pm bus was standing and there was a big queue. There was no chance for me to get accommodation in that bus. However I stood at the end of the queue. The buses were only 33 seaters in those days. The conductor started admitting one by one into the bus. At certain point he said that there was no accommodation, and went into the bus. The balance people standing in the queue dispersed. I was just standing there too dazed to think of the alternative of halting at Madras for the night. After some time the conductor came out of the bus and said that there was one seat available. As I was the only person still standing there, I stretched ten-rupee note to him. The people, who had dispersed converged towards him but he had already taken the note from my hand and I climbed into the bus and sat in the 5^th (vacant) seat in the second row and was free from the jolting effect of sitting in the backmost seat. I had a comfortable journey to Neyveli. The Lord came to my help in a dramatic way on this occasion. I could not thank Him enough.