Sai Baba

Interesting information about Sai Baba that I was reminded of in my daily Meher Baba newsletter (link). 

On June 5th 1927, Baba went with a few of the mandali to Aurangabad, and from there proceeded to the Ellora Caves and the area called Khuldabad. While drinking tea at Khuldabad, Baba disclosed, “The tomb of Sai Baba’s Master Zarzari Bakhsh is in Khuldabad.” When asked how this could be since Zarzari Bakhsh actually lived hundreds of years prior to Sai Baba, Meher Baba answered, “You have no idea of how great is the grace of the Perfect Master. While Zarzari Bakhsh was alive, Sai, in a previous incarnation, was his disciple. The Master’s grace descended upon him at that time; however, it carried over and made him perfect after seven hundred years. Zarzari Bakhsh means Giver of the Wealth of Wealth. This he gave to Sai.” The group returned to Meherabad the same day. Sai Baba of Shirdi had physical contact with other Masters — Gopal Rao and the Swami of Akalkot. However, it was Zarzari Baksh who bestowed Realization upon Sai while he was in a cave at Khuldabad. The Swami of Akalkot brought Sai down and made him a Perfect Master.

Thus the connection between a Perfect Master and his disciple can extend over lifetimes and Realisation can be bestowed in the physical absence of the Master, although I surmise that this is not the norm. I've been to the Ellora Caves and even to the cave at Khuldabad (about four miles away) were Sai Baba received Enlightenment.

Wikipedia (the source of all knowledge) had this to say about Khuldabad:

The name 'Khuldabad' translates to 'Abode of Eternity'. It is derived from the posthumous title of Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb, 'khuld-makan' (lit. 'Dwelling in Paradise'); the name came into currency following Aurangzeb's interment in the city. Priorly, the city was known as 'Rauza' (lit. 'Garden of Paradise'), a common term used to describe Sufi shrines in South Asia.

This made me realise how little I know about the Mughal Empire and reference to Sufi shrines I found quite intriguing. I downloaded "The Last Mughal" by William Dalrymple from the Internet Archive and transferred it to my Kindle. It looks like an interesting read.

On a hazy November afternoon in Rangoon, 1862, a shrouded corpse was escorted by a small group of British soldiers to an anonymous grave in a prison enclosure. As the British Commissioner in charge insisted, “No vestige will remain to distinguish where the last of the Great Moghuls rests.” 

Bahadur Shah Zafar II, the last Mughal Emperor, was a mystic, an accomplished poet and a skilled calligrapher. But while his Mughal ancestors had controlled most of India, the aged Zafar was king in name only. Deprived of real political power by the East India Company, he nevertheless succeeded in creating a court of great brilliance, and presided over one of the great cultural renaissances of Indian history.

Then, in 1857, Zafar gave his blessing to a rebellion among the Company’s own Indian troops, thereby transforming an army mutiny into the largest uprising any empire had to face in the entire course of the nineteenth century. The Siege of Delhi was the Raj’s Stalingrad: one of the most horrific events in the history of Empire, in which thousands on both sides died. And when the British took the city—securing their hold on the subcontinent for the next ninety years—tens of thousands more Indians were executed, including all but two of Zafar’s sixteen sons. By the end of the four-month siege, Delhi was reduced to a battered, empty ruin, and Zafar was sentenced to exile in Burma. There he died, the last Mughal ruler in a line that stretched back to the sixteenth century.

Award-winning historian and travel writer William Dalrymple shapes his powerful retelling of this fateful course of events from groundbreaking material: previously unexamined Urdu and Persian manuscripts that include Indian eyewitness accounts and records of the Delhi courts, police and administration during the siege. The Last Mughal is a revelatory work—the first to present the Indian perspective on the fall of Delhi—and has as its heart both the dazzling capital personified by Zafar and the stories of the individuals tragically caught up in one of the bloodiest upheavals in history.

Personality and Perfection

I once entertained the notion that those who are spiritually advanced must display a calm and pleasant personality. My early interest in Buddhism sustained this because Siddhartha Gautama, once He attained enlightenment, was in my understanding imperturbably calm in the face of all adversities and frustrations.

It was thanks to Meher Baba that I was disabused of this notion. As Baba explained:

In the evening some of the other mandali asked Baba whether the nature of a person changes after the divine experience of Realization. A long discussion ensued, and in the end the Master clarified the matter in relation to the personality of Hafiz:

Even after Realization, a man's nature is the same but in a different way. In the normal human state, his anger, his curses, his strong language and his mannerisms express themselves because of his ego. Where there is ego, there is no God; and where there is God, there is no ego. For this reason, the words and deeds of a Perfect One are egoless.

But his special nature and personality remain the same, even after Realization, and when expressed due to some mood, they are of the greatest benefit to others.

This is the meaning of Hafiz's couplet:

At one time I craved to see various things; 

But since I saw you, I no longer desire to see anything else!

This means that the nature to see is still there. Before, Hafiz craved to see a variety of different subjects; after the divine sight, he longed only to see God. It means: The desire of seeing remains the same but undergoes a change after becoming egoless.

Suppose a man is in the habit of getting angry and beating other people. His nature will remain the same even if he turns into a saint, but the change is beyond imagination. Behind his anger there is now no self-interest. It is simply an impulse with divinity behind it. It comes from the divine flow, and anyone who comes in contact with it is greatly benefited.

For us mere mortals however, it doesn't mean that we shouldn't strive to bring the more ugly features of our personality under control. When we act out our anger, we disturb those around us and create more sanskaras for ourselves. At the same time, Baba is quick to point out that we shouldn't suppress or repress our anger but instead be quick to catch it before we act on it. If we can do this, we will see that the anger or other negative emotion is purely ego-driven and it will quickly dissipate.

If we try to repress our negative emotions and push them into our subconscious mind, they only gain more influence over us and strengthen what Jung called "The Shadow". Baba regarded hypocrisy as the worst of failings and emphasised that we must not pretend to be what we are not. This prohibition extends to the way we see ourselves. If we are troubled by anger, lust or jealousy, then we must acknowledge this and not pretend to be free of these negative emotions. The psychological tendency to suppression is encouraged if we have an idealised notion of what a spiritual person should be feeling. Suppression can lead to repression in which an individual genuinely believes that he or she is free of troubling emotions. This is no longer hypocrisy but delusion and this brings disaster in one form or another.

So neither suppression or repression is to be encouraged. Instead we should strive as far as possible not to act on our feelings of anger, lust, jealousy etc. Firstly the thought arises and then almost instantly an accompanying desire to give it expression arises. If we are quick enough, we can catch the thought, observe it and allow its energy to dissipate. Often we will not be quick enough and in that case the impulse to act can be suppressed while still holding the thought and its accompanying emotion in our consciousness. 

Baba would constantly goad his mandali into feeling angry or jealous by praising those who were undeserving of praise and criticising those who thought themselves deserving of praise. This served to grind down their egos. Situations in our own lives that arouse similar emotions can serve the same purpose. If someone insults us, our ego is quick to rise to our defence because that is its nature. When this happens, we simply need to observe this and recognise that the ego is simply doing its job. Human consciousness is capable of this objectivity whereas animal consciousness is not.

The following explanation by Baba in January of 1939 is instructive concerning the difference between a Perfect Master and a person of normal consciousness:

Dr. Deshmukh arrived from Nagpur to see Baba in Jabalpur. His mind was quite troubled and he told Baba that people were asking him why Baba was calling himself “God.” They were saying, “Isn’t this the expression of his ego? Isn’t he a supreme egotist?” Deshmukh did not know how to answer them. To pacify Deshmukh, Baba gave this explanation:

In all that a God-Realized soul or an ordinary man says or does, the “I” in him asserts itself. The difference between the two is that the “I” in the ordinary man is limited, whereas in the God-Realized being it is unlimited. If Deshmukh says, “I have written the book,” it is the limited “I” in Deshmukh asserting a certain job he has done. But when I say, “I am God,” it is the unlimited “I” asserting its universal aspect.

The limited “I” must go for the unlimited “I” to take its place. The limited “I” is like a seven-headed demon. The seven heads of lust, anger, greed, attachment, pride, jealousy and hatred must be killed so thoroughly that not even the slightest trace remains. When the false “I” is completely destroyed, another “I,” which is Real and Unlimited, takes its place.