Vidyasagar.Guru

The entire sangha was heading for Muktagiri. We had set out in the morning, hoping to catch up with Acharya Maharaj at Morsi village by 9 or 10 a.m. We reached there at 10 a.m., only to find that Acharya Maharaj had left about half an hour earlier. Undoubtedly, Acharya Maharaj is an atithi. There is no way of predicting his itinerary or time frame. While this refusal to bind himself to a schedule may inconvenience some, it makes him totally independent. There are two problems in announcing the programme of vihar in advance. If, for whatever reason, it is not possible to adhere to the schedule of departure, one is guilty of uttering a falsehood. Besides, the state of uncertainty prevailing until the moment of departure disturbs the peace of mind. It is, therefore, preferable to make the decision on the spur of the moment and set out at once without waiting for company, like a gust of wind, heedless of what lies in store. This is the essence of spiritual endeavour. We followed in the footsteps of Acharya Maharaj. It was not possible to reach the destination by the hour of samayik. So we halted in an orange grove. After completing the observance, we reached our destination around 3 o'clock in the afternoon and prostrated at the feet of Acharya Maharaj. Cognisant of our state, he said to us with great affection, "You must be tired. Rest for a while. Then we will all go together for ahar." We realised that Acharya Maharaj had chosen to wait for us, although he had arrived in time for ahar. This limitless affection of his left a deep and lasting impression on our minds. Muktagiri (1980)

The summer time study circle was being conducted in the august presence of Acharya Maharaj at Varnee House, Moraji, Sagar. The summer was at its peak. By nine in the morning, the sun would be so fierce that it would be difficult to walk barefoot on the road. And that was the time to set out for the ahar round! Very often, Acharya Maharaj would go out into the town for ahar. He rarely had ahar at Moraji House. Pandit Pannalalji, the celebrated man of letters, was staying at Moraji House. Everyday, he would stand at his droorstep trying to catch the eye of Acharya Maharaj as he went on his ahar round. Only rarely did he get the chance to offer ahar to Acharya Maharaj. One day, during the brief gap between the observance of eeryapath pratikraman and the mid-day samayik, Panditji found his way to the feet of Acharya Maharaj and made his submission with utter simplicity, humility and spontaneity. “Maharaj”, he pleaded, “Now a days, you must not go far for ahar, as the ground gets red hot by then." His intention was obvious to everyone. Acharya Maharaj burst out laughing. To this day, the memory of this incident fills me with boundless reverence towards Acharya Maharaj. The purity of his conduct and his unfathomable learning make even great scholars thirst for his company. Sagar (1980) Eeryapath pratikraman -- The rite of pratikraman performed before the midday samayik for the annulment of the transgressions that might have been committed while travelling. It entails recitation of the virtues of the twenty four Tirthankars, a ritual of purification and confession of the transgressions committed

While Acharya Maharaj was at Sagar, the first study circle for exposition of the Shatkhandagam was organized with his blessings. It evoked a keen interest and was attended by almost all the veterans and discerning scholars of Jainism. The congregation had the opportunity of handling, reading and auditing the scriptures, which had until then been objects of veneration from a distance. It was the greatest achievement of their lives. As the study circle drew to its close, the assembly of scholars encouraged a delegation of city notables to urge Acharya Maharaj on behalf of the congregation to accept the title of Charitra-chakravarti. The request was greeted with a joyous applause. Acharya Maharaj remained silent. There was no immediate reaction on his part. In a short while, Acharya Maharaj commenced his discourse. At the end, he said, “At every step, one encounters a variety of titles, but they are all a source of sorrow. The only acquirement that matters is self-knowledge, which is the fount of all merits. Please allow me to advance on the path of liberation and spare me these titles. This is my only command, precept and message for you all". There was a pin drop silence in the gathering. Acharya Maharaj's indifference to status and title moved the audience to tears of joy and wonderment. Sagar (April, 1980) Shatkhandaagam – A comprehensive collection of the percepts of Acharya Pushpadanta (66-106 A.D.) and Acharya Bhootabali (66-156 A.D.). It is in six parts. Charitra-chakravarti – The Emperor of Impeccable Conduct. This title has so far been conferred only on Acharya Shantisagar.

Acharya Maharaj was camping at Dronagiri along with his sangha. It is hallowed ground and a very charming place. There are ancient Jain temples on the hill. At its foot, there are a monastery and a temple with shrines to the twenty four Tirthankars. Once, Varneejj had referred to it as the Little Sammed Shikhar. The entire sangha, including Acharya Maharaj, stayed on the hill, absorbed in spiritual pursuits. Every day, the sangha would come down for ahar and go back to the hill once it was over. All through this sojourn, Acharya Maharaj would meditate for three hours a day, sitting on a rock under a scorching sun. He instructed the sangha in ascetic practices as well as spiritual knowledge. In those days, the sangha of Acharya Maharaj comprised only ailaks and kshullaks. None of us had yet been ordained a muni. One fine morning, we came to know that Shri Samayasagarji, who was an ailak, was performing keshalunchan. We were all intrigued as his hair was quite short; he had done keshalunchan hardly two months ago. But the very next moment, we stopped worrying and returned to our studies and reflections with the confidence that the future would reveal itself in due course. In fact, the greatest joy in being with Acharya Maharaj is the freedom from anxiety over the future, which enables you to live in the present. Whatever happens then is pleasant. At about nine o'clock, with utmost simplicity and without any ostentation, Acharya Maharaj performed his first ordination ceremony of a muni. We paid our homage to Muni Samayasagar, the first nirgrantha shraman to be ordained by Acharya Maharaj. Overjoyed by the experience, we were engaged in an animated discussion when Acharya Maharaj walked in and stood amongst us. “What is the matter? You all seem so happy", he asked. We answered, "Indeed, we feel very happy today. It is a joyous occasion for us; one of us has become a nirgrantha". He smiled and said, “Such enthusiasm is of great help in self-development.” This benediction reassured and overwhelmed us. When I recall that experience today, I think that the image of such a nirgrantha Acharya must have formed in the mind of Poojyapad Swami when he wrote years ago - “Engaged primarily in exposition of the welfare of other beings, the great nirgrantha Acharya, worthy of being served by noble men." Dronagiri (March, 1980) Varneeji - Ganesh Prasad Varnee, a renowned Jain saint and scholar of the first half of the 20th century. He had dedicated his life to the revival of Jain scholarship. Sammed Shikhar - A high mountain near Giridih in the eastern state of Jharkhand, It is the holiest of all Jain pilgrimage centers, as twenty of the twenty four Tirthankars attained salvation from this mountain Ailak - A Jain renunciant, who wears just a loin cloth and eats only once, off his cupped hands, the food that is offered by a shravak. Kshullak - One step below the ailak, a kshullak is also allowed a sheet to cover his torso and a utensil for eating. Poojyapad Swami - A renowned muni of the 5th century belonging to the Nandisangha tradition. He is said to have possessed a number of supernatural powers. He is the author of numerous works, notably Jainendra Vyakaran, Sarvartha Siddhi, Samadhi Shatak and Shantyashtak.

The news of Acharya Maharaj's sudden and serious illness came upon us. He had a high fever, which was defying all medication. Deeply disturbed, I decided to be by his side. One may bear without flinching innumerable adversities in one's life, but the distress of one's mentor, at whose feet one has surrendered one's self, becomes unbearable. It is difficult to get a hold on oneself. I controlled myself somehow and set out in the dark of night to reach him. I did not experience any fear traversing the dreaded forest of Nainagiri in the dead of night. There was a time when the terror of bands of brigands weighed heavily on this forest and people were afraid to venture into it even in broad daylight. Today, the environs of Nainagiri are enveloped by a soothing, luminous aura, which provides an assurance of , protection tonneaarka! Surhjauter yiuridus yrace of the dust of his feet! When I reached my destination and saw him from close quarters, I found that although his body was ailing, he was quite hale in spirit. Dwelling in his self, he was beyond the reach of all maladies. His attendants told me that only a short while ago, he was suffering so much that his burning body had gone completely limp. Even in those agonizing moments, he had lost nothing of his alertness. Before turning to his side, he picked up his pichchhika and lay down only after making sure that the space that he was about to occupy was free of insects and all other life forms. As long as I was with him, I could not help wondering how one could remain so vigilant in spirit despite such physical suffering. | also got to know around this time that the pain that he experienced yesterday was so excruciating that Acharya Maharaj had thought his end to be near. Without losing his serenity and equipoise, he summoned all his disciples and broached the subject of sallekhana. Everyone was stunned and crestfallen. Eyes welling up, heads bowed, hands folded, they stood on one side, rooted to the ground. They were wondering what the morrow held in store for them. In those moments, Acharya Maharaj had given evidence of his indifference to high office, as well as of his commendable vigilance attained through years of spiritual endeavour of the highest degree. Thankfully, that long night passed. The day was about to break. As the sun rose in the sky, he was seen coming out into the light. For a moment, I thought of holding him, but the spiritual force radiating from his smile stopped me in my tracks. He crossed the threshold to go into the forest for evacuating his body wastes. Following him, kamandalu in hand, I wondered whether I would ever be able to cross the threshold of my home and head for the forest like him in order to expel all the defilements from my consciousness and attain the state of spiritual purity. Would I ever be able to rise above worldly attachments and conquer affection and ill will? The assurance of his support gave me the confidence that I would be able to realise my heart's desire. As soon as we returned from the forest; I placed my forehead at his feet and surrendered my self. It was the third day of his illness. He had been fasting for two days because of high fever and the consequence of past karmas, which had occasioned a disturbance in the performance of the rituals of ahar. The suffering that he endured during this period was causing great alarm. Hundreds of people had gathered in the temple courtyard to recite the Namokar mantra. When the hour of ahar finally arrived, some of the devotees offered to assist him in the performance of the ritual of purification, but he proceeded to perform it unaided. Verily, solitude is essential for selfpurification. Like him, we have to assume full responsibility for this act of cleansing. The very next moment, he stepped out of the temple to go on his ahar round. The beholders were overwhelmed by an anxious expectancy. Despite his illness, he had a gentle smile on his face as he moved forward. He arrived at the place appointed for the ahar and waited, while the ritual of nine-fold devotion was performed by the shravaks fortunate enough to play host to him. With utmost serenity, he accepted the ahar offered to him in his cupped hands. The proceedings were completed without a hitch, as people watched with unblinking eyes and bated breath, silently reciting the Namokar mantra. Everyone experienced the feeling of having realised the meaning of human existence. As this great muni walks on razor's edge, his steady steps give us the courage to tread the path of rectitude all our lives. Nainagiri (1978)

During chaturmas, a few devotees were proceeding from Jaipur to Nainagiri to have the darshan of Acharya Maharaj. Close to Nainagiri, they lost their way and took a wrong turn. After a while, they realised that they were lost. In no time, they were surrounded by four gun bearing brigands. The pilgrims seated in the vehicle were nonplussed. One of them finally gathered the courage to plead with the brigands, “ Brothers! We have come from Jaipur to have the darshan of Acharya Vidya Sagar Maharaj, but have lost our way. Kindly help us." The four brigands looked at one another and then, one of them boarded the vehicle to show the way. As the Water Temple of Nainagiri was sighted, he got down from the vehicle and was gone before anyone could question him. On reaching Nainagiri, the pilgrims recounted their experience to the astonishment of the congregation. Then one recalled the incident of Acharya Maharaj's exhortation to four highwaymen. That day, they had been shown the true way and today, by leading a group of lost pilgrims to their destination, they had demonstrated the effectiveness of that saintly sermon. Nainagiri (1978)

The day of the ceremony to mark the beginning of chaturmas was approaching. There was a consensus in the congregation that Maharaj should stay on in Nainagiri for the duration of the rainy season. Though the area around Nainagiri was infested with brigands, the congregation was confident that by the grace of Maharaj, all the observances would proceed without a hitch. The prayers of the congregation were answered. The ritual to mark the commencement of chaturmas was performed at Nainagiri. One day, as Maharaj was proceeding towards the hill after his ahar, four highwaymen came out of the wood and started following him. Their faces were masked and they were all carrying guns. The shravaks accompanying Maharaj had a fright, but he continued on his way normally. The party reached the temple. After the darshan, everyone sat down around Maharaj. The smile illumining the face Acharya Maharaj and the cordiality and fearlessness manifested by the congregation had a tremendous impact on the gang of dacoits. They put aside their guns and prostrated themselves before the peaceful figure of Maharaj. Acharya Maharaj blessed them, “ Have no fear and do not frighten any one. We are going to stay here for four months. You may tread the path of rectitude, if you wish.” They heard him in rapt attention, bowed low and then quietly retraced their steps. Thereafter, people lost their fear of going to Nainagiri. No one ever came to harm. Maharaj had provided a sanctuary to everyone. Nainagiri ( 1978 )

It was the rainy season. We had all gone for the darshan of Acharya Maharaj. As always, Acharya Maharaj gave his sermon at noon. After the sermon, as people began to leave, they spotted a pair of snakes in a hollow near the wall at the temple entrance. Acharya Maharaj saw them too. He halted there for a minute and said, “O, Noble serpents! , Move about in peace without the least hesitation. You have taken this form because of some misdeed in a past birth. Put this life to good use and strive for self-improvement. Take care not to harm anyone.” He pronounced this saintly exhortation in a voice full of love. Time went by. Many a time, those snakes were seen at sermon time. They never harmed anyone. This experience reinforced my faith in samavasaran, the assembly of all living beings addressed by a Tirthankar. Like those snakes, they must have received the divine message in their own languages and applied themselves to the mission of selfimprovement. This land of Nainagiri is hallowed ground, having been the site of the samavasaran assembly of Lord Parshwanath. Animated today by the sermons of Acharya Maharaj, it has regained its vocation to help all life forms uplift themselves. Nainagiri (1978) Parshwanath - The 23rd Tirthankar, who lived 250 years before Lord Mahaveer.

I am told that one day, Acharya Maharaj was engrossed in his daily swadhyay. There was a constant stream of people coming in to have darshan and leaving after making the ritual offering of a few grains of rice. All of a sudden, a little child, following the example of the grown ups, made an offering of what he held in his clenched fist, a chocolate. Everyone had a good laugh at the child's innocence. That was the end of it, but even to this day, I am greatly moved by the recollection of this incident. We should also be willing to renounce, with childlike simplicity and spontaneity, all that we hold dear in this world at the feet of a guru who has snapped the bonds of attachment and aversion. It will not be so difficult then to tread the path to salvation. Nainagiri (1978)

One evening, Acharya Maharaj was seated in the open courtyard outside the temple. For a while, there was a discussion on matters philosophical. We were very happy to be in the vicinity of Acharya Maharaj in that sacred and peaceful environment. Then it was time for samayik. Acharya Maharaj got up and went inside the temple. Someone asked me to switch the light inside on. Acharyaji heard this command. The moment I stepped inside, he said, “ Oh yes, do switch the inner light on! He was referring to the innate radiance of the soul. I was dumb-struck. These words of his have been my guide, inspiring me to this day to keep the light of my soul burning bright Kundalpur (1977)

Acharya Maharaj had just entered the region of Bundelkhanda. His strict and impeccable observance of the conduct prescribed for a muni and thorough understanding of matters of the spirit had made a great impression. Maharaj had been in Katni only for a few days, when he developed a fever. Pandit Jaganmohan Lalji took charge of the treatment. Neerajji, who had come from the neighbouring city of Satna, was also in attendance. One night, appalled to see a swarm of mosquitoes, Panditji arranged to have a mosquito-net strung around Maharaj. Next morning, when Maharaj broke his silence, he demanded an explanation. Panditji was ready with his reply. He said, “ Maharaj, you are indifferent towards your body; you do not let us treat you. But what can one do? The germs of fever have so poisoned your body that the mosquitoes biting you get intoxicated. We had to make this arrangement only to protect them from harm." Despite his indisposition, Maharaj had a hearty laugh. And then he said, “Panditji, worldly beings are wont to offer such arguments because of their attachment to their mortal bodies. Preoccupied with the preservation of their bodies, they are always unhappy. One who desires salvation must guard against such laxity and should strive to triumph over every ordeal. Only then will it be possible to shed the accumulation of karmas. Why did you expose a sadhu to the test of temptation?" Panditji was rendered speechless. He prostrated himself before Acharya Maharaj and became his devotee for life. He had realised that the words of Maharaj always conform to the preachings of Shri Jinendra and that having triumphed over all imaginable ordeals, Maharaj eschews laxities of all kinds and is always engaged in loosening the bonds of past karmas. Katni (1976)

It is late into the night. I wait along with the rest for him to emerge from samayik, so that we may have the opportunity to attend on him. How wondrous is the life of a Jain muni! When he dwells in his self, he attains self-realisation and when he comes out of self-contemplation to be with us, we get to learn how to dissolve our identities in our true self. Sitting at his feet in the soft light of an earthen lamp, I experience a deep sense of belonging. As if I have come very close to myself. The sweet comfort of the proximity of his feet makes me go soft inside. We may well be engaged in his service, but he is engrossed in himself, oblivious of our ministrations. I marvel at this capacity to transcend the body, while still dwelling in it. The night turns into day. The morrow is illumined by a gentler, brighter sun. I am due to return today. Before leaving, I touch his feet and his face is lit up by a smile, as if he is asking whether I would really be able to return. What can I say? Wordlessly, I take my leave with the tacit recognition that I would never be able to go elsewhere. His cordiality has filled my heart, just as the luminous rays of the rising sun drench your body and soul, the moment you open the door. I bow to this radiant sun of my soul. Kundalpur (1976)

The evening approaches. I watch him go uphill. I am told that he looks for a clean rock outcrop to do his evening pratikraman. Wishing to observe him today in the wondrous posture of pratikraman, I follow him for a while, but stop short of the rock outcrop, so that the awareness of my presence does not occasion any disturbance. There is an all pervasive tranquility. A tranquility so profound that even from a distance, I can sense the rhythmic concord between his breathing and the soft notes of pratikraman. In those moments, the expression on his face is one of extreme humility. He seems eager to surrender himself to the Lord. Bowing low, he is instantly filled with a pathos born of a deep empathy with all living beings. The very next moment, overflowing with forgiveness towards all, he descends to the core of his being, only to lose himself in kayotsarga to such an extent that he seems to merge in the great void beyond bodily attachments. For the first time today, the evening reminds me that it is the hour of home- coming. As the cows come home, the sun, weary of his day-long journey, returns to his resting place. The birds also head for their nests. True seekers, tiring of the ceaseless wanderings in the external world, embark upon an inward voyage. Everyone is returning. If only we could all return to ourselves before it is too late. As he climbs down the hill, the expression on his face tells of a deep detachment and the joy of home-coming. Time and again, have I seen the sun smile from behind a hill before it sets, but today, I am blessed to behold a great muni and yogi bidding a smiling adieu to everyone before he becomes one with his true-self. The ache of parting from such a yogi is so gentle that one is impelled to dwell within. I return. Alone, in his wake. Kundalpur (1976)

It is time for eeryapath-shuddhik. Unlike us, he wears no wrist watch, but it seems that eternal watchfulness is in his character. He has his fingers on the pulse of time. One by one, his disciples come and sit at his feet. In a little while, the low, melodious chant of pratikraman resonates clearly At this moment, his mind is pure and resplendent like the sun overhead. May every moment of my life be equally pure, so that I may also enjoy it to the fullest extent! I watch him pass from the process of pratikraman to the observance of mid-day samayik. It seems that pratikraman is the gateway to samayik. Before commencing it, he stands up and bows in all directions from east to north. He recites the great Namokar mantra and prostrates himself twice. Meanwhile, the tips of his cupped hands open and close four times. He completes three rotations of his cupped hands in a clock-wise direction. Perhaps, mind, speech and body are all set to merge in the infinite. All this while, he recites the formula of salutation to the siddhas in a low voice, a gentle smile playing on his lips. He sits now in the lotus posture, rooted in his self. Speechless, I am lost in thoughts. It seems as if I have followed the river up to its mouth, only to be left standing on the bank and watch it become one with the ocean. It is afternoon by the time samayik is completed. He is now meditating in a comfortable posture. The external and internal worlds have become one. He is enveloped in a bright aura. I am told that when poetry springs forth from his. lips, the ambient air is charged with a sublime sweetness. Today, I am eager, like everyone else, to partake of that ambrosia. Perhaps, he has sensed my unspoken wish. That is why he seems to be smiling at me. One should learn the art of smiling from him. His smile is like a child's: innocent, fluid and pure. That was the first time when I realised that poetry, though bound by the rules of metre and rhyme, is rendered free as it emanates from the tranquil and ingenuous heart of a sadhu. His passion for the music of his soul was manifest in the melody of his voice and the equanimity of his thoughts. In an instant, the whole atmosphere was suffused with a divine music. Body, mind and soul were all saturated with the nectar of non-attachment. Hearts were overflowing with faith and devotion. What I gained in those moments defines my existence even to this day. How true is this saying of Tulasi Das, "The society of sadhus, even if it lasts for a time interval of 24 minutes, or a half of that, or a mere quarter , suffices to absolve one of ten million sins.' Kundalpur (1976) Eeryapath-shuddhi-: The precaution of not taking the road until several hours after the sunrise, so that insects and other life forms, which abound after sunset, have had the time to move out of harm's way. Namokara mantra-: The eternal mantra of salutation to the five categories of evolved souls (Pancha Parameshthi) revered by the Jains viz. Arhanta, Siddha, Acharya, Upadhyay and Sadhu, first transcribed in Prakrit by Acharya Pushpadanta and Bhootabali Swami in the 1st century after Christ. Tulasi Das-: Poet-saint of the 16th century, whose great Hindi epic, Ramacharit Manas, is on the lips of even the unlettered villagers in northern India.

I see that seated in the temple courtyard, he is expounding the unsolved mysteries of the grantha which is open before him. I find it marvellous that being a nirgrantha himself, he unravels, one by one, the riddles strung into the holy texts by his knowledge and conduct. Actually, I find his style of studying the scriptures quite novel. As he attempts to decipher the mysteries of a treatise with his characteristic humility, his expression changes from moment to moment. Extremely serious now, then smiling gently, mumbling to himself now and then totally lost in the unfathomable depths of the text. I think that only an unusual seeker , who has had the experience of exploring the core of his being, can give such an ever fresh and up to date exposition of the Jain faith. In these moments of self-experience, he appears to be boundless and unfathomable like the ocean. Just as the ocean's infinite and bottomless water body exerts a subconscious attraction on us, inviting us to emulate its example, his unspoken invitation inspires us to dip into the ocean of self-experience. Just as the ocean remains calm despite absorbing everything, remaining within its ambits no matter how many rivers discharge into it; he remains unattached and calm no matter how many souls surrender themselves at his feet. He is limitless while remaining within his self- imposed limits. Just as the waves of the ocean push the flotsam on its surface onto the shore, he loses no time in repulsing the least defiling thought from his impeccable consciousness. Like the ocean, he is the repository of great jewels. The invaluable jewels of true faith, true knowledge and true conduct are embedded in the depths of his self. Like the agitation on the surface of the ocean, his engagement in the activities of ahar, vihar and nihar is momentary and on the surface. Deep inside, he is unperturbed and unshakeable in the contemplation of his self. I see yet another similarity with the ocean. Just as the water of the ocean can not quench one's thirst, his proximity only intensifies one's thirst for spiritual bliss. Verily, he is an ocean. An ocean of profound self- knowledge. Kundalpur (1976) Grantha- Binding or stringing together; hence a treatise, a book; also an inner conflict, a complex. Vihar - Literally, taking a stroll. In the Jain tradition, the expression connotes the movement of a saadhu, always on foot, from one camp to another. Nihar - Evacuation.

He has set out on the daily ahar round. In an instant, his gaze envelops and absorbs the entire surroundings and he proceeds with slow, measured steps. I am struck by this effortless alertness of his. The four directions resonate with cries of invitation, “O Lord! Please come hither! Please stay here! The food and water are without blemish. I marvel at this novel manner of alms-giving, with utmost reverence and love. The giver is keen to part with all that he possesses; but the recipient is confident that he has always possessed all that is worth seeking. He does not have to turn towards anyone else, or seek anything. All that is needed to sustain the body on the voyage of self-realisation will automatically come his way; he does not have to make any effort. He looks for food which has been prepared without hurting any living being, but without any anxiety or eagerness. All of a sudden, in the manner prescribed for a sadhu observing the highest degree of discipline, he halts near a group of shravaks standing by the doorstep of a house in the hope that their invitation would be accepted. Overwhelmed with joy, the shravaks escort him inside with due reverence and devotion and offer him a high seat. They bathe his feet, respectfully sprinkle the run-off on their heads and do their obeisance. They assure him of the purity of their hearts, speech and bodies, as well as of the food and water that they offer. With heads bowed in salutation, they request him to partake of their offerings. The spontaneityand orderliness of these proceeding cast a spell on me and I observe them, transfixed in my corner. I hear that he shuns variety in his ahar, limiting himself to very few rasas. This sets me wondering about the fountainhead of ras within, which obviates the need of any external ras. His face is awash with a deep satisfaction, which tells of the ambrosial spring inside his self. It is just an illusion that ras is external to one's self. That is why he is endowed with a rare beauty, though he has renounced salt. His sweetness is boundless, though he does not care for sweets. The lamp of his body, though bereft of fat (sneh) burns brightly with the flame of love for his true-self (atma-sneha). He has given up fruit of all kinds; yet his darshan is truly fruitful for the multitude of beholders. The balanced rigour of his ahar regime shows that he has no particular attachment to his body. For him, it is just a means of attaining the heights of the soul. The body is an instrument of Dharma. His endeavour is to conserve his bodily capacities in order to pursue the goal of selfrealisation with serenity. I realise how meaningful, yet how rare, it is to make proper use of one's body, while treating it as distinct from one's self. I notice that like a true seeker, he is able to observe all the rituals prescribed for ahar with ease. Just as one uses no matter what to fill up a pit, he cares little for specific foods or tasty morsels to satisfy the needs of the body. Just as one applies the required quantity of grease to the axle to make it function smoothly and ensure that the vehicle does not make any noise while moving, he accepts proper anar in order that the body functions properly and life's journey continues without hindrance. Just as one can put out a fire with any kind of water, whether fresh or brackish, he quenches his hunger and thirst with any kind of ahar, delicious or insipid, as long as it is appropriate. Like a cow, who is indifferent to the beauty of the flowers blooming in a garden, or the charms of the person feeding her, and who goes back quietly after having her fill of the grass, he is unaffected by the opulence of a shravak and is focussed on the purity of the food offered, which he consumes in the receptacle of his cupped hands in a standing posture but once a day. This is what is called the gochari vritti. There is rejoicing all round as the ahar is completed without a hitch. Unaffected by the applause, he leaves, a gentle smile on his visage. This reminds me of the bhramari vritti of a sadhu. Just as a black bee comes humming to a flower, takes a little of the pollen and returns to its hive, pollinating and fulfilling the flower in the process; he partakes of the ahar with absolute detachment, lost all the while in the music of his soul and returns to his camp, having fulfilled the shravak. After he had left, I stood there for a long time, head bowed. When I came out of my trance, I realised that he had gone far ahead. So far, that I will have to follow him all my life in order to come level with him. Kundalpur (1976) Ras -: Literally, taste; also nectar. The Indian culinary tradition recognizes six tastes, viz. sweet, sour, salty, bitter, pungent and astringent. But amongst the Jains, the word ' ras' is also used to signify six different ingredients of cooking, viz. milk, curd, ghee, oil, jaggery and salt. One or more of these may be given up, temporarily or permanently, by way of self- discipline. Salt -: Lavan in Sanskrit. There is a word play here on lavan, which is the root of the word lavanya, meaning beauty. " Sneha -: Sanskrit for fat, as well as love, or affection. Bhramari vritti -: The attitude of a bhramar, a large black bee.

It was the first time that I had seen him. He was sitting in a tiny cell-like room. I wondered how a great personality like his could fit into such a small place. Just behind him, was a large open window. The piece of sky framed by it looked more beautiful than ever. The light coming from the window and the radiance of his naked form had converged to create a luminous circle, which was as impressive as the smile illumining his visage. For a moment, I was lost in the allure of his equanimity and stood frozen at the door-step. After a while, I thought that I should go in. Seeing is possible only from inside. One can not get a good view from outside, but it was not easy to go in. There was a big crowd at the door and I was blocked by it. I came back, thinking that I would make another attempt some day to see him alone. Though I say that I came back that day, the truth is that even to this day, I have not been able to come back. My only desire now is to spend all my life at his feet, never to part. After this darshan, I realised how vibrant is the beauty of equanimity! Since then, the image of Shri Jinendra in the temple has also come alive for me. This is my gain from the first darshan. Kundalpur (1976)

I have heard that during the chaturmas at Kundalpur, Acharya Maharaj would perch himself on a rock under the open sky, whenever there was a break in the rain. On one such occasion, as Acharya Maharaj was about to sit down, a shravak hastened to spread a mat on the rock face. Observing this, Acharya Maharaj smiled and quipped, *This mat is meant for those who are afraid of soiling their clothes. I have no clothes, so I have no fear”. Everyone laughed at this humorous remark. But in a flash, the realization dawned on them that Maharaj was completely at home in natural surroundings, because his natiurdiolae was his own self. And they were overcome with emotion. It is no mean achievement to be able to move about in the lap of nature in one's natural state, without any pretence or artifice. Kundalpur (1976)

It was the first chaturmas of Acharya Maharaj in Bundelkhand. One day, in the dark of night, a scorpion bit a woman devotee. Pandit Jaganmohan Lal was present in the camp. Moved by her suffering, he wanted to comfort her by making her lie down on the bed. When the bedding was unrolled, out came a snake. One was hard put to chase it away. The next day, Panditji narrated the incident to Maharaj and said, “You will face many a hazard here while doing chaturmas.” Maharaj burst out laughing. He has such a hearty laugh! Then he said, “ Panditji, only yesterday, we had two or three snakes playing here. This is wilderness. You are bound to encounter a variety of animals here. Why should that disturb our chaturmas? In fact, we ought to make it a point to stay in a jungle. We shall be able to chip away at our accumulated karmas by showing fortitude in the face of adversities of all kinds. Only a true sadhu is capable of such willingness to confront and conquer terrible hazards. Kundalpur (1976)

Acharya Maharaj was then in Ferozabad. The programme of his daily discourse and its subject were announced in advance. One day, the organisers put up a notice that the topic of the next day's discourse would be 'Atithi’. The next day, when people reached the meeting hall at the hour appointed for the discourse, they found that Maharaj had moved on. People ran after him, using whatever means of transport they could find. When they caught up with him two or three miles from the town, they remonstrated with him, "Maharaj, you were scheduled to speak on the subject 'Atithi, but you have moved on without notice!" Maharaj had a good laugh and then said, “My dears, that is exactly what I am doing. ‘Atithi means one who has no predetermined dates of arrival and departure." This explanation made people realise that by conducting himself like an 'atithi", Maharaj had shown them that there should be no gap between practice and precept. A true sermon has to be lived. Ferozabad (1975) Atithi - A guest; one who arrives unannounced; tithi :date; atithi : without a date