The ProphetBy Suma Varughese, Society, May 1995 We are five years away from the Millennium. As the world hurtles with ever-increasing momentum towards that fateful moment, history seems to be preparing to turn the page to yet another chapter in our civilization. The signs are clear for all to see. A way of life based on a set of premises postulated 350 years ago is today collapsing under the weight of its own contradictions. The Industrial Revolution ushered in the Age of Reason. Nothing closed to reason was admissible, claimed Descartes. Matter consisted of atoms, chimed Newton. Man was born of apes, asserted Darwin. God was banished, nature vanquished. Progress continued apace. Capitalism arose, and man was reduced to a factor of production. To counter that, along came communism. Only to transfer power to the state, leaving man as shackled as be-fore. Gradually, inevitable, man lost his sense of worth. And his existing alienation with nature and God was compounded by his alienation with himself. Today, we are reaping the harvest of this alienation, as the world explodes around us in a cacophony of disharmony. Tastes have degenerated all around. Dissension and discord have ripped to shreds the fabric of our society. AIDS and cancer are rampant. Communism is dead, and although capitalism is racing through the world like a broncobuster, it is ravaging the earth and setting the agenda for our own destruction. We are sick. Manifestly sick. The good earth is weary and so are we. And something tells us that this was not the way it was meant to be that there is a better way to live. But who is to show us that way? Who can sweep our path of the debris of our decrepit social, political and economic systems and fabricate new ones that uphold the integrity and nobility of man? Who can restore our self-respect and our links with existence? Who can envisage and create a New World order? Could there possibly be a man of such transcendental vision and wisdom, Courage and determination, organizational and administrative capability? A man, so to speak, for the times awesomely enough, there is one. A 75-year-old Sanskrit scholar and philosopher. A teacher and practitioner of the Bhagvad Geeta and the founder of one of today's most regenerative and powerful movements, Swadhyay. His name is Pandurang Shastri Athavale. Doesn't ring a bell? Doesn't matter. Few of the westernized elite has heard of him, or of Swadhyay. Yet I like an underground river nursing its strength before bursting into the surface I like a mighty torrent, the Swadhyay (study of self) movement has been quietly and steadily gathering momentum. Today, it has a huge following o f over three million people, spread over 125000 villages in India. Its influence is rapidly disseminating into the US, UK, South Africa, Mauritius and the Fiji Islands, nourished by the zeal of expatriate Indians fired by its glowing ideals. Its network of educational institutions is influencing the hearts and minds of millions of the new generation. Their galaxies of unique socio-economic experiments have proved that economic parity can prevail without loss of private initiative. But best of all, its inspiring message of universal brotherhood under the fatherhood of God, is restoring and renewing human links. In a world where greed and hunger, anger and hatred, despair and decay, have never before orchestrated themselves into such a strident pitch, the Swadhyay movement is like a patch of verdant green grass in the desert wasteland of the 20th century. Listen to fisherman Pandarinath Bhavan Meher on the subject. "At 11 days after my birth, parents taught me to drink. And so I grew up drinking and fighting. Then I attended Dadaji's discourses. And he told me that God was within me. After that, I was uncomfortable with the thought of drinking. In 1986, I went on a teerth yatra after which I completely stopped drinking. We have a fisherman's festival called Gutter Amavasya, so named because you are supposed to drink until you fell into a gutter. When my friends came to celebrate it with me, they could not believe that I had stopped. My friends today are in hospitals. Dadaji has given me so much. Today, my health is intact, and the money spent on drinks is intact. I have the respect of society. If I hadn't met Dadaji, I would have been in the gutter too. When I told my wife I was leaving drink, she hugged me. I can never for-get that." Take the case of Kamlakar Budha, a fisherman hailing from the village of Maroli, Daman. His boat had recently capsized and been destroyed and unmitigated tragedy to one for whom it represents not just his only wealth, but also his only source of livelihood. What saved him from destitution and despair was the unique Swadhyay experiment of creating Impersonal Wealth. Based on the principle that gratitude to the Creator is best ex-pressed by offering efficiency, the concept finds expression among the fishing communities in pooling together enough funds to buy a common boat, which, since it belongs to none, is designated as God's, and called a Mastsya Gandha (Floating Temple). Each member of the community takes turns to ply the craft and the money realized by selling the catch is considered to be God's wealth, which is then distributed among those in need like Kamlakar Budha as prasad, a term that cleanses it of the ugly connotations of charity. In Budha' s case, given the enormity of the sum (Rs. 200 thousand) it was a loan but a loan with nothing written down and with no deadline or interest attached. These are just two examples of the transformation wrought by the Swadhyay movement, one on the individual front and the other on the systemic. Both highlight the love of God that is the central thrust of the movement, and its aim to transform mankind. But how has religion become such a powerful social force? And on what basis has Dadaji accessed to us the power of transforming ourselves? Swadhyay is based on the philosophy of the Bhagvad Geeta, whose central precept of an indwelling God is the fulcrum around which the movement rotates. Tat Tvam Asi (That thou art) and Aham-Brahma-Asmi (I am divine) are the twin principles of the Vedanta on which the Swadhyay movement is founded. The logic on which Dadaji bases his philosophy is as follows:
Over and above this, the central reality of my existence is God, and my only aim in life is to realize the God within me. How may I do that? Through the three Vedic paths of jnana, bhakti and karma. Jnana is the path of knowledge or self-study (Swadhyay) which indicates not only introspection but knowing the self through knowing others. Bhakti is an understanding of God's nearness to me and my relation to Him. Such an awareness fills me with love and gratitude to Him for looking after my welfare, and motivates me to do something for him, which is to look after his Universe. The path of self-realization through karma lies in selfless action, when one does one's duty with no consideration for profit or loss. All three paths to self-realization, therefore, lead me towards humanity and the Universe; which motivates me once again to have its welfare at heart. In Dadaji's scheme of things, therefore, contradictions don't exist. The spiritual and the material aspects of life are perfectly welded, as are individual and collective welfare. His vision of man is that of a perfectly integrated being, who is linked through bonds of respect, devotion and brotherhood to himself, to others and to the Universe. Such a man has confidence and self-respect. His awareness of divinity fills him with heroism, courage and the determination to live life to the fullest. His ideals are noble and unfaltering, for he never loses sight of his ultimate aim of self-realization. And his commitment to the welfare of humanity and the Universe is unshakable. Such a man not only leads a joyful, full, successful and noble life; he does so through helping others realize it. He is also highly rational. For his self-respect frees his mind of slavery and enables him to discriminate good from bad. Says Dadaji: "My effort" is to create a new man who pursues the divine mission in which God is at the center. It follows that a society of such perfectly integrated individuals wills it-self becomes completely integrated. Since individual welfare is linked to collective welfare, conflicts and divisions arising out of the ego will gradually be sublimated. The common concept of divinity in all humanity will highlight the invalidity of differences based on sex, color, caste, community, religion or class. The issue of women's liberation, for instance, is completely annihilated, for women are as divine as men, and that's the end of that. Similarly, every imbalance within society is capable of being corrected when viewed from the focal point of the Swadhyay philosophy. Indeed, the manifest aim of the movement is to effect a total transformation of society on economic, political, social, emotional and spiritual levels. Money as a motivation and source of self-esteem will cease to have such a central hold on a society geared towards the far higher aim of self-realization. At the same time, the crippling divide between the rich and the poor will naturally narrow, because the poor, restored of their self-esteem and self-worth, will I be much more self- reliant and deter-mined to vanquish poverty, as well as less vulnerable to the vices of smoking, alcohol or gambling. The rich, on the other hand, will realize, as Dadaji puts it, "Since God is with us and within us, He is to use the language of business, a partner in all our transactions. Naturally, He has His share" That share, God's share, Dada suggests, could be a source to redistribute wealth. And capitalism's conceptual flaw of relying on a more and more avid supply and demand of needs will level itself out as individuals learn to balance their desires with the larger interest of society and, of course, the environment. Indeed the economic aspect of the world order visualized by Dadaji is among the most fascinating of his contributions, for he has conceptualized and realized a number of experiments that integrate capitalism's rewards and acknowledgment of private initiative with communism's compassion for the have-nots. The two most striking aspects of the philosophy are its emphasis on self-respect and volition. Says Dadaji; "Any philosophy of life or system of society that destroys my individuality and individual initiative is not acceptable to me. Each person must have self-respect. He or she must respect himself or herself". With his unnerving knowledge of human nature, Dadaji picked out the single most important motivating force in our lives, a sense of self-worth, and rooted it into the one factor all humanity has in common: The presence of God. As he wisely remarks, "It is self-respect that pushes man towards virtues and away from vices." It is self-respect that gives a man individuality and integrity, and enables him to relate to others on terms of equality. In short, self-respect is the cornerstone of a value-based active life. Yet because it is derived from the common presence of God, self-respect does not flare out into aggressive individuality that has no consideration for the others' welfare. Volition, based on the premise of self-respect, is what distinguishes this movement from other, more rigid charters of belief that have no room for evolutionary growth nor for individual points of view. Though Dada has been teaching from the Bhagvad Geeta for the last 53 years, the impetus for creating the Swadhyay movement can be said to have come about in 1954. Invited to the Second World Religious Congress held in Japan in 1954, Dadaji read out a paper proving that the philosophy behind the Bhagvad Geeta was the perfect solution to modern societal problems. Impressed, the assembled members wanted to know if there was any village or group in India that I lived according to these precepts. The words came as a galvanic shock to Dadaji, as he shook his head regret-fully. Thereafter, his mission was clear, and although he was tempted with l offers of the chair of philosophy in universities in UK and USA, he returned home, and to his regular discourse at the Shreemad Bhagvad Geeta Pathshala, that his father set up in C.P. Tank, Bombay. From among the devotees, he selected 19, and for the next two years he worked on them rigorously, impress-in them with the truth and practice of his philosophy. The denouement, which is a crucial part of Swadhyay history, took place one evening in the year 1957. As usual, his group of 19 waited at Juhu Beach for him to come, but this time, the Dada they saw was a man consumed with anguish at what he could see was the degeneration of man. Communism's growing impetus even within the villages had stung him into an awareness of the danger approaching society, and the need for counteracting measures. The path was clear. Religion was under fire. Destroyed by the blind rituals and shibboleths that century's of practice had turned it into and by the revulsion of modern youth to its irrationality. The 19 devotees must go into villages setting the record straight and releasing the faith from its distortions. "Young Swadhyayees like you who have studied and understood the divine thoughts of the Vedas the Upanishads and the Geeta, have a great moral responsibility. You must be pre-pared to defend our ancient and noble religion and culture. You must tell the people the real meaning of devotion, religion and spiritualism." Awestruck by Dadaji's fervor and conviction, the 19 listened as he went on. "To rejuvenate human values, and to restore religion and culture to their true grandeur, is true service to God. It is a form of devotion. Devotion should not be limited to temple worship, rites and rituals, singing and chanting only. This crude faith shall drown us in oceans of ignorance; and man shall be degraded to a beastly, sensual existence. Under such conditions, if young people like you who have studied the Upanishads and the Geeta sit quietly and do nothing, you will be guilty of neglecting your duty. Neither society, nor history, nor God will ever forgive this lapse on your part. Therefore, you must go the villages. This too is a form of devotion." With these words Dadaji transformed the private and individual nature of the Bhagvad Geeta's aim to attain God-consciousness, into an instrument of social activism. As he often says, Swadhyay is an example of bhakti used as a social force. The chain of actions initiated by that revolutionary outburst in 1957 culminated in what is a key factor in Swadhyay activities, the bhaktipheri, or devotional tour. Using the argument that gratitude to God for inhabiting us and ceaselessly operating our mechanism called for an acknowledgment on our side, Dada used the traditional concept of Ekadashi, or day of fast every 11th day, to define the direction our gratitude could take. Instead of a passive act like fasting, however, we could use it to speak to others about God and bring them within his presence. Since single days are inadequate for the purpose, the Ekadashis are clubbed into 24 days a year. This is a period the Swadhyayee devotes to work in the villages, speaking to its in-habitants about the love and devotion to God, and the noble precepts of the Geeta. To convince them of the disinterestedness of his motive, a Swadhyayee is strictly warned against asking the villagers for any favor, no matter how minor. He has to cook his own food, manage his own accommodation, spend his own money, always keeping in mind the truth that he was here for his own self-development. The initial years were difficult as the Swadhyayees worked against the odds to overcome skepticism and establish their credibility; but gradually, however, their work bore fruit and it is now in active practice in over 125000 villages, Though spread mainly in Gujarat and Maharashtra, it is taking daily root all over India including Kulu Manali, Andhra Pradesh, Conoor, wherever a Swadhyayee is inspired to take up the cause. And wherever the movement spreads, it generates a gradual transformation within man and society. Brotherhood and camaraderie replace discord and divide. Drinking, gambling and other vices hold no attraction for a populace newly aware of its divinity, and restoration of self-respect brings with it a resultant determination towards self-reliance and self-perfection. And paradoxically, the road to spiritual perfection leads to economic prosperity, and peace and happiness. At a village in Valsad that I visited, Chibubhai Patel, one of the local Swadhyay heads, whose wise little visage seems saturated with sweetness, tells me of the gradual transformation experienced by his village. "Earlier, people used to drink and eat, slap their wives, and go to sleep. Now, no one drinks." According to Patel, the village, which is wholly Swadhyayee, is "Ramrajya". Bickering and disputes are a thing of the past, as the villagers awaken to an active realization of their brotherhood, and warmth and love become the currency of communication. The money once frittered away in drinking has contributed towards well-built houses for everyone, while thrift, hard work and devotion have opened the door to prosperity. Best of all, their newfound self-respect keeps them free of the manipulation of politicians looking for electoral gain. Says Patel simply "Now we tell them, 'Don't give us money. God has given us money. Why do we need so much?" The awesome integrity and character behind that simple statement is a proof of the greatness of spirit that Dada has released within humanity. Everywhere I went I experienced that same sense of spiritual awakening, of a humanity looking and discovering within itself a nobility and self-confidence, breaking free of the slavery imposed upon them both by society and the mind. Take the case of the village women, for instance. Gradually, in that same spirit of natural evolution, women are emerging from the cloisters of their homes to devote themselves to Swadhyay work. Forbidden earlier from stepping out of their houses, they now perform goodwill tours, visiting neighboring villages to establish bonds of fraternity. "Dada has given us God and a new life?" says one of them emotionally. One looks at the violence and discord with which women's liberation has been achieved in the educated world, and longs for a similar wisdom to enfold the world. If I ever wish to see the Swadhyay spirit embodied in its female avatar, I only have to recall Laxmiben Laxmibhai Patel, a part-time pujari at a local Vriksha Mandir (Tree temple). The pride and self-worth with which she uttered her name, her eyes lighting up with fire, would have done justice to a queen, even as her gnarled hands and sturdy backbone devoted itself to the upkeep of the trees in her care. "They are my children," she exclaimed, her arms sweeping out to include the expanse of the green foliage. Such self-worth and humility, resting side by side, is the true worth of the Swadhyay spirit, wherein all the paradoxes of human nature, softness and strength, self-esteem and care for other, is reconciled. And with Dada's unfaltering belief in the divinity and fathomless potential of humanity, the vi1lagers are encouraged to learn Sanskrit, while the discourses often compare the philosophy of Kant with that of Hegel! It is this unbelievable generosity of spirit and respect for every human being that makes Swadhyay such a powerfully liberating force. But if Bhaktipheri was the foundational exercise for the dissemination of Swadhyay, Dadaji's fertile mind and fervent determination to effect a total transformation in society has created several other unique institutions, whose purpose, as always, is to solve societal problems through the framework of devotion to God. There is the concept of the Loknath Amritalayam, for instance, which seeks to restore the central socio-economic role temples played in ancient India, where they were centers for community activity and a place where all members, regardless of the caste, class or economic status, could meet. When a village begins to have a sufficient number of Swadhyayees to make the venture worthwhile, a simple temple, with walls of creepers and dung-washed floor, is constructed. Here, all the Swadhyayees meet twice a day, morning and evening, for prayers and community meetings. All major discussions are taken in the presence of God. There is also the concept of Impersonal Wealth, earlier explained. Active in the fishing communities as Matsya Gandha and in the agricultural communities, as Yogeshwar Krushi, the idea is to contribute one's efficiency to God. Among the agricultural communities, this concept takes the shape of leasing or buying a small property of land, with funds contributed by the whole village. This land, belonging to none in particular, is treated as God's. Everyday, the villagers take turns to till the soil, and the produce so grown is seen as God's wealth or Impersonal Wealth. This wealth is offered to God, and, through consulting with a few elders, distributed among those most in need, not as charity, but as prasad from God. So delicate is the impulse not to offend the receiver' s pride or self-respect that its distribution is usually in the dead of night. Among the fishing community, the concept revolves around a community fishing boat and the concept is called Matsya Gandha or Floating Temple. The most ambitious of these ventures, based on the involvement of 20 village, is the Vriksh Mandir (Tree Temple), a large orchard of anything from 10 and above acres. Quite apart from its value in providing a self-sufficient social umbrella, the concept is also meant to forge bonds of friendship within the 20 villages. The idea, obviously, being to forge large and larger concentric circle of brotherhood. All those who work on these projects are known as part-time pujari, for the work is seen as divine and blessed. Today, the movement has more that 3,500 Yogeshwar Krishi, 32 Matsya Gandha, 17 Vriksha Mandir and 100 Loknath Amritalayam. Can these economic experiments be reproduced on a world scale? If man in general can be persuaded to approach life, God and humanity along the Swadhyay line it's really hard to figure why not. The vision is there, can man rise to the task? For all our sakes and that of the Universe, it's to be fervently hoped so. Through it all, the human spirit joyously proclaims its liberation. And with each fresh experiment and each moment, the movement only gathers in momentum. If it took 53 years to get this far, it is a complete certainty that it will take less than half that time to reach the world. And in the center of it all, like a spider meticulously spinning its web, sits Dadaji. The evolutionary zeal that has charged his movement with such coruscating luster, kindles in him ever-growing quantities of dynamism, commitment and compassion. His bond with his people is charged with such tender love that he just escapes being deified. Even so, hymns acknowledging his achievement are routinely sung at prayer gatherings. In appearance, he appears kindly and wise, but his features are not cast in the heroic mold. In his spotless white kurta and dhoti, he looks like nothing as much as a Maharashtrian gentleman farmer. But his protean talents, faith in God and powerful personality, were wrought early in life. Born on October 19, 1920 to a family of Sanskrit scholars, his remarkable intellect manifested itself early. And on the advice of his then principal, Pt. Ramapati Mishra of Gokuldas Tejpal. His father started a Sanskrit school for him aimed at giving him a thorough grasp of our culture and tradition. The 12-year course included shastra, logic and philosophy. By all accounts, the education he received under his father was the making of the man. He was not allowed any special favor, on account of being the principal's son, and never allowed more than two pairs of clothes, which had to be mended when torn. The young lad had a mind that was deeply interested in anything from swimming to riding to driving and playing. His analytical powers were highly developed to the extent that he would take the weaker side in a debate and win hands down. At 25, he emerged from the Pathshala, with a firm determination to perpetuate Indian culture and civilization. Yet to communicate with the western world, he needed to understand its thinking, and so he immersed himself for an additional 12 years in the Asiatic library, diligently arriving when the Asiatic opened, and leaving only when it was time to close. During those 12 years, his mind raced through the storehouse of Western civilization, sifting through its vast tracts of knowledge. It is said that his photographic memory was capable of retaining almost everything he read. Even today, the Swadhyayees talk in awe of his ability to remember almost every member of his flock by name, and quiz them in detail on their personal life. His own is Spartan. Living in a small two-bed-room flat at C.P. Tank in Central Bombay, with his wife, Nirmalatai, he has repeatedly resisted appeals to move into a flat gifted by the grateful Swadhyayees. Up every morning at 3.30 a.m., the next 2 1/2 hours are spent in meditation. A walk follows this at 6 a.m. and by 9 a.m., he is available at the Swadhyay office, Nirmal-Niketan. When in Bombay, his evenings are reserved for appointments. Every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday between 7 to 9, he discourses on the Geeta in Gujarati. And Sundays, between 9.30 to 10.30 a.m., are devoted to a Hindi discourse, attendance of which is one of the unbreakable conventions of the Swadhyay family. All of Sunday, until 4.30 a.m., is given to the Swadhyayees to be used not only for personal darshan, but to plan out their activities. Despite the burgeoning nature of the movement, the impeccable network of information keeps Dadaji informed of every development within it. His is the mastermind that has plotted its every move. He is clearly its heart and soul. Will it be able to retain its sterling integrity and high ideals without him? The question is obviously of concern to the Swadhyayees, who have already picked a successor, his daughter Dhanashree, popularly called Didi. Such nepotism sits oddly in movement fired by such high ideals but Professor Bongale, a retired lecturer of philosophy, and Didi's tutor her Ph.D., explains that Didi was the only leader acceptable to the members, and her philosophical orientation and powerful leadership qualities equip her for the task. He admits quite frankly that Didi is not another Dada adding wryly, "But who is?" Too many movements have floundered and died along with their founder, or worse, been corrupted and misunderstood. Keenly aware of the danger, professor Bongale is working with Dadaji on developing a metaphysical validity for the movement, to avert that possibility. But ultimately, they take recourse in their own philosophy. If God wants Swadhyay to continue, it will! they say wisely. And that, presumably, is the last word on the subject. |