The northern Himalayan crags near Badrinarayan are still blessed
by the living presence of Babaji, guru of Lahiri Mahasaya. The secluded
master has retained his physical form for centuries, perhaps for
millenniums. The deathless Babaji is an avatara. This Sanskrit word
means "descent"; its roots are ava, "down,"
and tri, "to pass." In the Hindu scriptures, avatara signifies
the descent of Divinity into flesh.
"Babaji's spiritual state is beyond human comprehension,"
Sri Yukteswar explained to me. "The dwarfed vision of men cannot
pierce to his transcendental star. One attempts in vain even to
picture the avatar's attainment. It is inconceivable."
The Upanishads have minutely classified every stage
of spiritual advancement. A siddha ("perfected being")
has progressed from the state of a jivanmukta ("freed while
living") to that of a paramukta ("supremely free"—full
power over death); the latter has completely escaped from the mayic
thralldom and its reincarnational round. The paramukta therefore
seldom returns to a physical body; if he does, he is an avatar,
a divinely appointed medium of supernal blessings on the world.
An avatar is unsubject to the universal economy; his
pure body, visible as a light image, is free from any debt to nature.
The casual gaze may see nothing extraordinary in an avatar's form
but it casts no shadow nor makes any footprint on the ground. These
are outward symbolic proofs of an inward lack of darkness and material
bondage. Such a God-man alone knows the Truth behind the relativities
of life and death. Omar Khayyam, so grossly misunderstood, sang
of this liberated man in his immortal scripture, the Rubaiyat:
"Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane,
The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again;
How oft hereafter rising shall she look
Through this same Garden after me—in vain!"
The "Moon of Delight" is God, eternal Polaris,
anachronous never. The "Moon of Heav'n" is the outward
cosmos, fettered to the law of periodic recurrence. Its chains had
been dissolved forever by the Persian seer through his self-realization.
"How oft hereafter rising shall she look . . . after me—in
vain!" What frustration of search by a frantic universe for
an absolute omission!
Krishna, Rama, Buddha, and Patanjali were among the ancient Indian
avatars. A considerable poetic literature in Tamil has grown up around
Agastya, a South Indian avatar. He worked many miracles during the
centuries preceding and following the Christian era, and is credited
with retaining his physical form even to this day.
Babaji's mission in India has been to assist prophets in carrying
out their special dispensations. He thus qualifies for the scriptural
classification of Mahavatar (Great Avatar). He has stated that he
gave yoga initiation to Shankara, ancient founder of the Swami Order,
and to Kabir, famous medieval saint. His chief nineteenth-century
disciple was, as we know, Lahiri Mahasaya, revivalist of the lost
Kriya art.
The Mahavatar is in constant communion with Christ; together they
send out vibrations of redemption, and have planned the spiritual
technique of salvation for this age. The work of these two fully-illumined
masters—one with the body, and one without it—is to inspire
the nations to forsake suicidal wars, race hatreds, religious sectarianism,
and the boomerang-evils of materialism. Babaji is well aware of
the trend of modern times, especially of the influence and complexities
of Western civilization, and realizes the necessity of spreading
the self-liberations of yoga equally in the West and in the East.
That there is no historical reference to Babaji need not surprise
us. The great guru has never openly appeared in any century; the
misinterpreting glare of publicity has no place in his millennial
plans. Like the Creator, the sole but silent Power, Babaji works
in a humble obscurity.
The deathless guru bears no marks of age on his body; he appears to
be no more than a youth of twenty-five. Fair-skinned, of medium build
and height, Babaji's beautiful, strong body radiates a perceptible
glow. His eyes are dark, calm, and tender; his long, lustrous hair
is copper-colored. A very strange fact is that Babaji bears an extraordinarily
exact resemblance to his disciple Lahiri Mahasaya. The similarity
is so striking that, in his later years, Lahiri Mahasaya might have
passed as the father of the youthful-looking Babaji.
Swami Kebalananda, my saintly Sanskrit tutor, spent some time with
Babaji in the Himalayas.
"The peerless master moves with his group from place to place
in the mountains," Kebalananda told me. "His small band
contains two highly advanced American disciples. After Babaji has
been in one locality for some time, he says: 'Dera danda uthao.'
('Let us lift our camp and staff.') He carries a symbolic danda
(bamboo staff). His words are the signal for moving with his group
instantaneously to another place. He does not always employ this
method of astral travel; sometimes he goes on foot from peak to
peak.
"Babaji can be seen or recognized by others only when he so
desires. He is known to have appeared in many slightly different
forms to various devotees—sometimes without beard and moustache,
and sometimes with them. As his undecaying body requires no food,
the master seldom eats. As a social courtesy to visiting disciples,
he occasionally accepts fruits, or rice cooked in milk and clarified
butter.
"Two amazing incidents of Babaji's life are known to me,"
Kebalananda went on. "His disciples were sitting one night
around a huge fire which was blazing for a sacred Vedic ceremony.
The master suddenly seized a burning log and lightly struck the
bare shoulder of a chela who was close to the fire.
"'Sir, how cruel!' Lahiri Mahasaya, who was present, made
this remonstrance.
"'Would you rather have seen him burned to ashes before your
eyes, according to the decree of his past karma?'
"With these words Babaji placed his healing hand on the chela's
disfigured shoulder. 'I have freed you tonight from painful death.
The karmic law has been satisfied through your slight suffering
by fire.'
"On another occasion Babaji's sacred circle was disturbed
by the arrival of a stranger. He had climbed with astonishing skill
to the nearly inaccessible ledge near the camp of the master.
"'Sir, you must be the great Babaji.' The man's face was lit
with inexpressible reverence. 'For months I have pursued a ceaseless
search for you among these forbidding crags. I implore you to accept
me as a disciple.'
"When the great guru made no response, the man pointed to
the rocky chasm at his feet.
"'If you refuse me, I will jump from this mountain. Life has
no further value if I cannot win your guidance to the Divine.'
"'Jump then,' Babaji said unemotionally. 'I cannot accept
you in your present state of development.'
"The man immediately hurled himself over the cliff. Babaji
instructed the shocked disciples to fetch the stranger's body. When
they returned with the mangled form, the master placed his divine
hand on the dead man. Lo! he opened his eyes and prostrated himself
humbly before the omnipotent one.
"'You are now ready for discipleship.' Babaji beamed lovingly
on his resurrected chela. 'You have courageously passed a difficult
test. Death shall not touch you again; now you are one of our immortal
flock.' Then he spoke his usual words of departure, 'Dera danda
uthao'; the whole group vanished from the mountain."
*Note : Text and the image of Babaji taken
from the book "Autobiography of a Yogi" By Paramahansa
Yogananda