This Monk From India - The Divine Life Society

AM I A HINDU
He stood up and went to the middle of the room with the book still in his hands, and bowing
slightly to the minister, asked permission to sing. He started the well-known Black American
religious song “He’s Got The Whole World In His Hands”. His rhythm was wonderful, his voice
incredibly beautiful and trained. Everyone was singing and smiling. The whole atmosphere was
changed. But imagine my surprise when he started to read the two marked pages of my book. He
read so well everyone listened intently. When he had finished reading, he smiled all around and
started to sing again. First a humorous song “All Ways Lead to Rome”. People laughed. Then he
sang “Jesus Loves Us, Buddha Loves Us, Mohammed Loves Us, Krishna Loves Us”. He sang this
last song in his extraordinary deep voice with so much love that everyone was spellbound. The
whole hotel seemed to have become silent. We could hear only the cars in the distance.
As he came back to give me my book, he said, “Don’t look so moved. I know that minister
quite well. I have done him good. He is not responsible, he is ignorant. Forgive them, they know not
what they do. But is there anything more ridiculous than our missionaries coming to this country, of
all countries, to teach about God, about spiritual life.”
He said, “I met Chidananda in New York. I was very impressed. I have read a little about
Yoga since then...not much...but he has put a balm on my heart. Colour, creed, nothing counts for
him...I thought of him when I sang “Jesus Loves Us, Krishna Loves Us”. I did not know you knew
him. He has made me feel the Reality of God. You are lucky to be with him. He is not in his Ashram
now. But if he comes out in the West, I will try to see him again. I feel I will, although I am always
on the go.”
The next morning, as I was leaving early to catch the first bus to Rishikesh, an Indian lady
came with me. She said she was also going to the Ashram. She was a devotee of Swami
Chidananda. She told me, “I was there in that hotel last night. I heard your conversation with the
minister. You should not answer at all in a case like that, not even to say you are living in an
Ashram. Swami Chidananda helped you. Truth is all right, but Ahimsa is better. You must never
hurt anyone’s feelings. This is the first thing in Yoga”. (What my Indian friend said was so true. I
had felt so sorry for the minister when the Black singer was reading out the passages of my book,
but events had been taken out of my hands somehow.)
I told her how much worse I used to be before, how I used to talk endlessly to anybody and
everybody about Yoga and the wonders of it in my life. Swamiji, who is very much against
indoctrination, must have known how foolish I was, for he once told me, “When someone is not
thirsty and you go on trying to make him drink, just because you yourself have found a particular
drink very good, he will first refuse politely; but if you go on insisting, he will send you away rudely
and say, ‘Don’t you understand I am not thirsty Leave me alone.’”
When my new friend and I got into the bus station, we met a young Swami whom I had
known earlier. He was also going to Rishikesh. We sat together and my friend told him the events of
the night before. He laughed and said, “You must know who to speak to and what to speak about
and then speak little. Thoughts, words and acts must tally. Of course, spontaneity is a wonderful
quality, but to think aloud, as you seem to do, is not good enough. Yoga is perfect balance, perfect
equilibrium. It is very difficult, of course.”
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